Yeah, okay, Joseph was the complete opposite of Tristan. But he was nice to her once upon a time, and handsome, and tall, which was hard to come by. But seeing him through Tristan’s eyes, she understood where he was coming from, too. He appeared scrawny and uppity, dripping with classist energy, and he might as well of had the words “I’m a stuck-up British prude” tattooed on his forehead.
Tristan, despite how well he cleaned up when he wanted to be fancy, like tonight, was very much a rough around the edges, good old boy from the Midwest, oozing out pure testosterone and looked like he sweats beer and could bench an elephant.
The intimidation on Joseph’s face was undeniable.
“You want to explain why you were grabbing her like that?” Tristan asked, turning his attention back towards Joseph.
“I was just trying to talk to her. Tessa, who is this guy? Listen, mate, are you aware she was my girlfriend for 6 years?”
“Jesus Christ,” Tristan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “Don’t fucking remind me.”
“Tristan, can we just go back to our table, please? I really don’t want to deal with this.”
“For fucks sake, Tessa, you won’t answer any of my calls or texts, and now you won’t speak to me when I run into you in the city we both live in? Come on!”
“She doesn’t live in New York right now,” Tristan says quickly. “She’s living in Kansas City, and you’re two seconds away from getting a restraining order. How often does he bother you?” Tristan turns to ask Tessa.
“Enough to get him blocked, especially after this,” she responds.
“Do it now.”
“What?” Tessa’s blue eyes look up at Tristan, but he doesn’t back down.
“Block his number. Go on.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she retorts, but the words come out weak and unsure. She is very much fine with Tristan telling her to block Joseph’s number, and something about his alpha male possessiveness always turned Tessa on, but for some reason she couldn’t let him know that.
Joseph snickers from behind Tristan and lifts his drink to his smirking lips.
“I knew it,” he whispered as he takes a drink, causing Tessa to take a step forward.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long. I mean, you can’t even block my number.”
“Oh please,” Tessa rolls her eyes and angrily grips her phone, unlocking it, and finding Joseph’s contact. “I hate that you’re both making me give into your bullshit pissing contest.”
“Aint no contest here, Tess,” Tristan said, putting his hand on the small of her back and urging her forward. “Let’s go.”
She gives him a glare but relents, and starts heading back to their table, eyes still focused on completing the task on her phone.
Tristan gives one more glare over his shoulder to Joseph, keeping his large hand planted firmly on Tessa’s back, not at allshocked that the delicate looking man standing there bewildered had no idea who he was.
The group had spent nearly an hour more at the table for dinner, Tessa immediately leaning into Amber the second she returned to her seat and word vomiting about her encounter with Joseph. Tessa kept her back towards Tristan for the most part, feeling somewhat vulnerable and embarrassed by the very public altercation with her ex, but he stayed firmly planted next to her at the table, his presence solid and unwavering. Every part of her was screaming to jump into his arms, burrow into his strong, warm, hairy chest and never come back up for air. But her pride and ego kept her back towards him until the very last second, until everyone at the table started heading back to the hotel for curfew.
Tessa and Amber stood up from the table, and Tessa immediately felt Tristan’s hand on the small of her back again, causing an intense shiver to shoot up her spine.
“You’re not staying at the hotel,” Tristan said. It was a statement, not a question, since he had very intentionally tried to find out where her room was, only to be told she was staying off site.
“No, I’m staying in my apartment,” she said, smoothing down her dress, avoiding eye contact. “Since, you know, I live here and everything.”
“Well, you’re here for the game, but you’re living in Kansas City.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night,” she responded with a dramatic sigh.
“Don’t be a brat,” he said, and her eyes instantly flew up to his. “Just because your ex is a pretentious asshole doesn’t mean you need to take it out on me.”
She sighed and hung her head, feeling ashamed at how much she kept hurting him over the past few days. It was a huge issue she’s had over the years – when her pride or ego is threatened, she becomes haughty and defensive.
