"What does this mean?" he asks, but there’s no mistaking the hope in his voice.
I place both hands on his cheeks and give him a warm smile. "We have a lot to talk about, and I know you still have your closing interview. Can I wait for you in your room while you wrap things up here?"
The happiness that spreads over his face makes my heart grow light and airy. He knows now that wasn't just a simple kiss.
It was a promise of much more to come.
After moments of just staring at me with loving eyes, his smile grows wolfish. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. He takes a single key off the ring and sets it on the center of my palm. The silver sparkles under the stadium lights, and my stomach does a little turn.
I'm really going to do this. I'm going to go into his room, take off all my clothes, and present myself like a gift when he walks through the door.
He grabs me by the shoulders and kisses me hard. After pulling away, he probes me with a hard stare. "Don't you dare fall asleep. I'm not nearly done with you tonight." He glances over his shoulder at the camera crew. "Alright, I’m going to wrap this interview up as fast as possible."
A while later, I turn the key on the frat house door and walk inside. A few heads turn in my direction as I make my way to the stairs, but I don't bother to explain my presence.
I was given a key. I'm meant to be here.
When I walk into Tristan’s room, the scent of him washes over me, and a pleasant tingle runs over my skin. He smells sodamn good, tastes so damn good. And I'm going to enjoy it this time.
Our first time was tainted in lies, Harper's and my own refusal to tell him what was really on my mind. I won't let anything stand between us this time.
Before I lose my nerve, I start taking off my clothes. With each layer I shed, my confidence grows. Six weeks ago, I wouldn't recognize this shameless girl I’ve become.
I'm living my fanfic instead of hiding away in it.
When I'm fully naked, I slip under the cool sheets of his bed. My nerves are on fire, but it's a pleasant sensation. Tristan is going to lose his mind in the best way.
This is the first time I've ever fully accepted that he really wants me.
That he loves me.
The door opens, and there he is. Tristan steps into the room and halts, his eyes wide as they meet mine.
Here we go.
I sit up and let the blanket fall to my waist. The cold hits my skin, but my skin is on fire. Tristan lets out a strange sound—something between a gasp and a moan. I've hit my mark. He's stunned at my boldness. After my hesitance during my little strip show weeks ago, I can tell he never thought I'd do something like this.
"God, Amy." His voice is husky. He closes the door and locks it with a soft click that seems to seal us away from the rest of the world.
In three long strides, he's at the edge of the bed, his hands cupping my face as his lips crash onto mine. The kiss is fiery and all-consuming. I wind my fingers into his hair and pull him closer.
"Tristan," I murmur against his lips. I fall back and pull him with me.
Before I hit the bed, he grips my waist. His forehead rests against mine, and his breathing is ragged. "What does this mean?"
I place my palms on his face and press a gentle kiss on his nose. "What do you think it means?"
"Fuck, Amy."
I jerk back, and he winces. "Sorry, I'm just… I'm dying right now. Please put me out of my misery and tell me how you feel.”
My heart swells, threatening to burst. In my dreamy haze, I forgot that he still doesn't know. How thoughtless of me to be coy. "It means… I love you, Tristan. I’ve loved you for weeks."
"What?" He nearly shouts.
I blink once. “I love you.”
His eyes search my face before growing heavy. “Oh, holy fuck,” he mutters.
