Page 38 of Meet Cute the Virgin

Tristan sits beside me, close enough that his knee brushes mine under the table, and I don’t move away. I should because I know he’s doing it on purpose.

I also should be telling him to hit the road, jerkoff. Instead, I’m staring at my eggs and remembering how his hands felt onmy hips, how he said he’d find me anywhere, and how I believed him.

“You’re quiet this morning, Lily Pad.”

I look up from my plate. Teddy’s watching me from across the table, eyes too sharp, too knowing. She knows. Of course she knows. She saw me in that bed, wearing that shirt, with Tristan’s arm still around me.

“Just tired.”

“You don’t say. Something kept you up last night?” She blinks at me innocently.

Killian doesn’t have anything innocent going right now. In fact, he’s been doing that scary blank stare at Tristan, not touching his food.

I’m not answering that loaded question, so I redirect the conversation.

“What’s up with you two?” I ask, motioning with my fork back and forth between Tristan and Killian.

“I’m sure he’s pissed, putting together I’ve been around and managed to slip into your bedroom.” Tristan takes a sip of his coffee.

“After breakfast, I plan to take you down to the basement. Then I’ll find out all your little tricks,” Killian says.

“Little?” Tristan smirks at him, not the least bit scared.

Tristan isn’t as big as Killian; not many are. Killian is built big and barrel-chested, like those linemen you see on the football field my dad used to yell at every Sunday. Tristan, however, is defined, muscular, athletic, and quick. He’s also tall as hell. They are actually an intriguing contrast to each other.

It makes me recall when Killian said he had blood on his hands, but Tristan likely has more. He just isn’t as personal about it as Killian is, taking a very hands-on approach.

“The Pentagon doesn’t think they’re so little.”

I turn my head to stare at Tristan. Are they having a pissing contest right now?

Killian’s jaw ticks. “You think it’s funny, pretty boy?”

“I think you’re overreacting.” Tristan’s voice stays casual, but I feel his leg press harder against mine. “Lily’s safety was the priority. I handled it.” My safety? Does he think a random-ass person is going to pluck me off the street?

Okay, if I go off crime shows, sure, but I’m not jogging down an alley. That said, Teddy and I do seem to attract questionable, murderous, brilliant men. Rich too. It’s a mixed bag, but the pros are winning pretty hard.

“Handled it.” Killian leans forward, and there’s something cold in his eyes now. “Slipping in and out of our home for months. Past my security. Past fucking everything.” Is Killian mad at himself or Tristan? In all fairness, the last time the two of them were together, Killian got the drop on him, so maybe it’s even now.

Tristan smiles. “Your security has gaps.”

“Your tech has limits.”

“Does it?”

They’re staring at each other, and I realize what’s happening beyond a pissing match. This is about territory. Skill. Two predators who’ve challenged each other in different ways.

“Tech can always crash. It’s not stable,” Killian counters.

“And hands-on can be unpredictable. There are too many loose ends. It can get sloppy.”

“Messy,” they say in unison, then both pause.

“Interesting,” Killian agrees.

“Problematic,” Tristan murmurs.

Teddy looks between them. “Are you two like bonding?”