After taking a deep breath, I lean back in my chair, letting my eyes drift away from the screen. Can I really pull this off? It’s one thing to pretend I’m indifferent to Tristan when we’re making conversation, but how am I going to feel if he’s touching me? I’ll just have to remind myself over and over again that he’s boring. That I would never want him long term.
The problem is that I’m not finding him as boring as I used to. I’ve actually had fun talking to him since the competition started. Just like I did years ago when I was trying to get to know him for Harper’s sake. Just like I did that day in the library.
I’m softening toward him yet again, and it’s not good. Not good at all.
He’s dangerous.
I set my fingers back on my keyboard, attempting to get back into my fanfic, but the words won’t come. Tristan has infiltrated my mind, damn him. It’s impossible to focus on anything else.
Those blue eyes. The softness in his voice when he said, “that’s my girl.”
Fuck, I’m so stupid. This is my fanfic brain working, but in the wrong direction. I’ve written several praise-kink versions of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth’s first time having sex.
How am I replacing Mr. Darcy with Tristan? He’s not a Mr. Darcy. He’s a Mr. Wickham. I’ve known this forever.
I can’t write. Not if I’m picturing Tristan. My fanfic is one of my greatest joys. I can’t let thoughts of Tristan pollute it.
Damn him.
I need to talk out my feelings with someone who’ll understand my situation and help me make sense of it all.
I grab my phone and press Cody’s name, tapping my foot nervously as I wait for him to answer.
“No, I will not proofread your fanfic,” he says immediately after picking up. “I don’t have time.”
I smile. He knows this is my normal writing time. “Do you have time to meet up? I really need to talk about something.” I let worry infuse my voice so that he’ll take pity on me. Sadly, it’s not hard to do.
“Is it about Tristan?” He says Tristan’s name with just a hint of disdain.
“What else would it be about?”
He sighs heavily. “Let’s meet in twenty. Our usual spot.”
Warmth fills my chest. “Perfect.”
A half hour later, we’re sitting on the sand on the beach just a few blocks away from my dorm.
“I don’t know…” Cody shakes his head as he stares out at the ocean. The wind is whipping his dark hair every which way over his face. “Something’s not adding up.”
“What do you mean?”
He narrows his eyes, seeming lost in thought. “Why does he need your help making Harper jealous? Why you of all people?”
My stomach sinks to the sand. Even though I’m suspicious of Tristan’s motives, it sucks to hear that Cody is too.
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “He said it’s because of our history.”
Even when I can’t see Cody’s face, I feel his skeptical expression like a shadow on a sunny day. “I would’ve thought because of your history, you’d give him an immediate no. He’s up to something with this. It’s obvious. It’s too far-fetched to be real.”
“You think this is part of his plan to embarrass me. Whatever his plan is.”
He lets out a long sigh. “Of course I do. Nothing else makes sense.”
“I wonder if this is part of his plan to make me fall for him. He thinks touching me will do the trick.”
Cody grimaces. “I want to kill him.”
I snort. “He won’t be able to trick me into falling for him. The only reason he got me to like him the first few times was because he found my weakness. The thing that means more to me than anything. My writing. He’s been asking me about it since high school. It was one of the first things he brought up that day in the library.”
