CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kaylee
My apartment isa mess. Sitting on the couch in my living room, I look around at the clutter. There are books stacked on the end table that should be on the bookshelf, a pile of unopened mail on the kitchen counter, and a basket of clean laundry resting on the other end of the couch that needs to be put away.
I try to muster up the energy to deal with it but can’t. I’m too busy having second thoughts about leaving this morning. I’ve been home for two hours, and I can’t stop thinking about Tristan and what I could have done differently. Like telling him how I felt.
I don’t know if he would be open to a serious relationship because I didn’t ask, and that’s what tortures me. I was too afraid of rejection. The string of women on Tristan’s arm over the last couple of years didn’t help, but most of all, I realized while driving home that I’ve been carrying around baggage from my relationship with Mark. I don’t have feelings for him anymore, but at one point, loved him and he never treated me right, then said awful, humiliating things when I broke up with him. I know now he was trying to hurt me to assuage his ego but for a long time, I wondered if I was that unlovable like he said.
With Tristan, the spark was there, and when he kissed me, Ifeltlike there could be so much more between us. And I knew he had feelings for me. I just didn’t think he’d want more. Groaning, I rub my temples. All of this overthinking is giving me a headache.
I stand up, planning to grab some Tylenol from the bathroom, but a knock on my apartment door stops me. I’m not expecting anyone, so I look through the peephole and gasp when I see Tristan.
I open the door to see him standing with a white plastic bag in one hand and a serious look on his face.
“Tristan?” I say his name like I’m not sure he’s real, as if all my ruminating conjured him up.
“It’s me. I thought you might be hungry since you skipped brunch,” he says simply, lifting the bag in his hand. It’s then I notice the logo printed on the side.
“You brought me sushi from On a Roll?” I ask as he brushes by me on his way inside. Like he belongs here.
My mind is reeling. When I left the resort, I thought I’d have time before I saw him again, time to get my emotions under control and my head on straight about what this weekend really meant. But now, he’s here, and I’m at a loss.
He nods. “You said it’s your favorite.”
I did say that, but I didn’t realize he was paying enough attention to remember the name of the specific restaurant. The fact that he not only remembered it but bought some for me causes a warm glow to fill my chest, replacing the emptiness I’ve been feeling since I left him at the resort.
“I… I don’t know what to say. I mean, I didn’t expect you to…”
“I know you didn’t,” he says, placing the bag of food on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I’m not sure what you did expect since you took off without saying goodbye, but I doubt you thought I’d follow you home.” He appears calm, his body relaxed, no tension that I can see.
“How did you know where I live?” I ask.
He smirks. “We have people in common, sweetheart.” He takes a seat on the couch, right next to the neglected basket of laundry, and starts unloading containers of sushi onto the table.
Just minutes ago, I was debating whether or not I’d made a huge mistake by leaving him behind without a conversation, and now he’shere.
“Tristan, what’s going on?” I ask, wondering if this is the opportunity I denied myself earlier.
He glances over and lifts an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Not to be rude, but why are you here?” I ask.
“Where else would your boyfriend be?” he replies, and doesn’t even stop opening the sushi containers.
“You were my fake boyfriend,” I remind him, unsure of why I’m objecting to something I want so badly.
He stands, take two steps, and suddenly he’s directly in front of me, reaching out and pulling me flush against his hard body. “Does this really feel fake to you, sweetheart?”
Without a thought, I melt into him, breathing in completely for the first time in hours. “It feels real,” I manage to say around the lump in my throat. “I didn’t think you did serious relationships.”
“I said it wasn’t worth the hassle. But that’s when the woman isn’t the right one for me. And you never asked me what I wanted. If you had, you’d know that I’mveryinterested in one with you.”
I pull back just enough to look into his eyes. He meets my gaze head-on, hiding nothing from me. “I just want you to know what you’re getting into with me. It’s just that… I’m a mess. Literally.” I gesture to my cluttered apartment.
It was the biggest complaint that Mark had about me. He said no one wants to spend time in a messy apartment, and if I had any self-respect, I’d do better to keep it clean. I know he’s a jerk, but I also know he had a point. I know my issues and, as a result,I’m not very organized. But ever since Mark, I wonder if it would bother another man too.
There are other things, too.
