“Nice name. Is she pretty?”
“Stunning.”
“She’s gorgeous.”
Annalise and I say at the same time.
We both look at our sister. “What? She is. You got lucky there, bro. She also isn’t about to let him walk all over her. Tell Trist how you moved out of your apartment just for her to turn you down.”
I growl. “She didn’t turn me down.”
“Didn’t she? Where is she living now?”
My stomach twists at the thought of Alyssia stubbornly moving into her own apartment in the South of France instead of in my building like I’d chosen for her.
“There’s been a misunderstanding … on her part,” I add.
Annalise chuckles. “No, youmisunderstoodthat a woman who’s capable enough to have her own career and life in New York City wouldn’t be so willing to do as you say and lose her independence totally just because you knocked her up.”
A pensive pinch forms between her brows.
“Gotta say, I like her,” my sister concludes.
“So wait, you moved her to your place?” Tristan asks.
“He tried.” Annalise snorts.
I grind my teeth, glaring at my sister who only matches my stare before I explain the situation to Tristan.
“Now she’s living in France?”
“And commuting to work.” I grunt.
He clucks his teeth as he shakes his head, a disappointed look overcoming his face. My stomach drops.
“It’s only temporary,” I say without thinking. “She’s moving into my apartment. I …” I pause without finishing theI want her close to me.
I’m unsure of how to process that thought, especially as the truth of it vibrates through me.
“And you kept this from me?” Tristan asks Annalise.
“What? Like it’s hard?”
Tristan and I both frown.
“Are you …”
“She’s doing it again,” I say.
“Anna, do not start that bullshit,” Tristan warns.
Annalise has a tendency to cite lines from her favorite early-2000s films.
“So, what you’re saying is I should stop trying to make fetch happen?”
“I’m going to strangle?—”
“I’ve already warned Travis about threatening me.”
