“Shut the fuck up and get lost,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively at John. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”
“What? I don’t want to go home,” Tessa slurred as she grabbed his forearm. He froze and looked down at her tiny hand with her perfectly manicured pink fingernails; they were so feminine and delicate against his rough skin and thick arm hair and it made his heart skip a beat.
“Well, I’m taking you home anyway,” he said calmly but sternly. “Abigail, can you peel Amber off of our wide receiver and meet us at the truck?”
Tristan drove the three girls home, all of them piled in the back seat of his truck. He urged someone to sit up front with him, but they instead chose to drunkenly pile in on top of each other, roll the windows down, and stick their feet out while screaming the Shania Twain song they insisted he put on. He couldn’t help but laugh happily at them, especially Tessa. He had tried to manage the jealousy and protectiveness that surged through his body when he found John hitting on Tessa and was thankful he was able to easily convince her to leave the party before he made a fool of John.
“Okay drunkies, your chariot has arrived,” he said in a very bad British accent as his truck pulled up to their house. They all giggled and somehow managed to get out of the truck without any injuries and ran up to the front door. He watched in amusement as they all struggled to get out their house keys, and he stepped in to grab the keys that Tessa was holding and unlock the door for them.
Amber and Abigail thanked Tristan for the ride and for the tickets to the game and gave him clumsy hugs before they stumbled into the house.
“Will you stay with me for a sec, Tess?” Tristan asked shyly as he gently grabbed her elbow to keep her on the porch with him.
“Of course,” she said, her sweet smile sending a shiver down his spine. Her hair had fallen out of the bun at some point during the ride home, and it was in a messy fit of curls spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Her eye makeup was slightly smudged, and the orange tinted lipstick she had on earlier was gone. She looked absolutely breath taking, and Tristan couldn’t help but reach out and move some of the curls out of Tessa’s face and behind her ear.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said in a whisper. “I know it’s not typically your scene but it means a lot that you showed up and supported me.”
“I really did have fun, Trist,” she said, her voice was a bit hoarse from the night but still silky, feminine, kind, and uniquely Tessa. “And I liked watching you play. I’ve heard you talk about football for the past month we’ve been studying together and I’m so happy I got to see you in action. It was really impressive, and I’m not easily impressed,” she said with a laugh.
“No, I don’t think you are,” he replied, shoving his hands nervously into his pocket.
“You look like you want to say something,” Tessa said, looking at him timidly and biting her bottom lip. He had to take breath and look away from her for a moment to gather himself.
“Fuck I just...” He sighed and ran his hand down his face before bringing his eyes back to hers, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Her eyes went wide and she stood in shocked silence for a few moments before she felt the liquid courage bubble to the surface, and a blunt “Why?” came out of her mouth. He threw his head back in laughter and then shook his head at her.
“Why?”
“Yeah...” she said slowly.
“Because I like you,” he said simply, “And I think you’re beautiful, and smart, and interesting, and I feel drawn to you, and I think about you every day. That’s why.”
Her mouth hung open in shock. She had yelled at herself every time she thought about Tristan in any way that wasn’t friendly. Anytime her mind wandered to how handsome he was, how tall, talented, funny, and magnetic he was, she berated herself. He was nice to have as a friend, but she was sure that if she allowed her feelings for him to really come to the surface, she would end up miserably heartbroken.
“You’d break my heart,” she said softly, “I know you would.”
He shook his head no aggressively, taking a step toward her.
“Fuck no,” he replied, “I wouldn’t, I won’t.”
She took a deep breath and steadied herself against the wall, feeling her head spin.
“I don't know Trist, I don’t think you’d actually want me if you really got to know me. I don’t think we’d be very...compatible.”
It was bullshit and she knew it. They were extremely compatible. They had so much more in common than she could have ever imagined. What she was really worried about she didn’t have the courage to say out loud, even with the vodka.
He looked at her with skeptical eyes. He could tell she didn’t mean what she said, and that there was a million things that shewasn’tsaying but also could tell that she really was scared that he would hurt her, and that made him feel terrible, and he wondered what he could do to change her mind.
“What can I do to show youI won’t hurt you? Will you at least give me a chance?”
Her heart was racing almost as fast as her thoughts. She wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted him to hug her and hold her, wanted him to ignore everything that she was saying and just kiss her right there, but her fear, uncertainty, and insecurities were stopping her, and she didn’t have an answer for him.
Tristan sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat. She was drunk, tired, and for some reason seemed scared of everything that he was saying. He decided this was not a good time for this conversation and was definitely not a good time to kiss her. He gave her a sad smile and reached out to give her arm a friendly squeeze.
“Don’t worry about it sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about this. Hey Abigail!” He leaned inside of the house and waited for the red head to make her way towards the front door. “Can you get her to bed safely? You seem to be in much better shape than she is.”
“Of course,” Abigail said, taking Tessa’s hand and leading her inside. Tessa looked up at Tristan with tear-filled eyes, not knowing what to say, but wanting so badly to say something, anything; but she felt paralyzed.
