Page 60 of Meet Cute the Virgin

“I believe in a fire.”

I cringe; it sounds painful. “So then the test is about my dad.” I glance down at my lap, wringing my fingers together. I could have easily moved on from the conversation, but I have to face whatever it is.

“Lily—”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, but he’s already there, stepping between my legs. “I’m not about to cry over it; I’m just thinking about him, and it makes me miss him,” I say. “He’s my dad.”

“He is your dad. I think he saw you and knew you were meant to be his.”

“Where did he see me?” I place my hands on Tristan’s chest.

“That’s a longer story I’m trying to piece together.”

“Could we piece it together as a team?”

“If you want,” he says gently. “I should have known you’d handle that news better than I thought.”

“I know, I’m starting to see a lot of things more clearly.” Sure, Tristan loves control, but his actions are never meant to hurt me. That’s the thing: Intent is everything. It doesn’t make it okay, but it makes it understandable because I know if I could do anything to stop Tristan from hurting, I would. Like punch his dad in the face.

“Let me finish making us breakfast, and I’ll tell you what I know. If you want to hear it. It’s heavy.”

Tristan plates our breakfast. I watch him move around the kitchen. This is all so domestic. It’s surreal. I hadn’t realized how much I craved being this way with him.

“Let’s eat at the table.” He motions to the small table off to the side in the kitchen. It only seats two people.

“This place is cozy,” I say, sitting down. Tristan lifts a brow, setting my plate in front of me. That’s not a bad thing. There has been so much space between us. “This is nice.” I give him a soft smile. “For now.”

“For now?” He chuckles, sitting down across from me.

“We’ll get to that later. Like you, I must keep a few things from you, for your own good.”

“The house is big, but you know I’m wealthy, right? I can build you whatever you like.”

“Hold on now.” I put my hand up. “How do you?—”

“How do I know that you and Teddy probably made up a grand scheme of us all living under one roof and just sectioning off wings?” Well, shit.

“Don’t be trying to change the subject on me now. You have things to tell me.” I wave my fork at him.

“Yeah, it’s me changing the subject.” He takes a sip of his coffee, hiding his own smirk.

“On with it. Hit me with it so I can get this ugly cry over already, and then you’ll agree to Teddy’s and my idea, and I’ll be happy again.” Just gonna slide that in there. If I have to cry, I’m going to get something out of it. “Start with the DNA test you must have stolen from the post office,” I say to get his ass moving. “Which is a federal crime, by the way.”

“Hope the Feds don’t come snatch me up.” Yeah, he looks real worried. I bet he’s got dirty secrets on the government. One night we’ll have to ply him with emergency champagne and get the tea.

“Your blood type.” I swallow; okay, we’re doing this. “It’s O positive,” he says. “Victor’s was AB negative.”

I stare at him. “Okay?” I urge him to keep going because I have no clue what that means.

“AB negative parents can’t have O positive children; it’s impossible.”

The kitchen goes quiet. Only the sound of the refrigerator humming in the background. “Right, I totally knew that.” I had no clue.

“Hey.” He reaches over the table, grabbing my hand, giving it a squeeze, knowing I’m using humor as a partial mask. It’s my way of protecting myself.

“I’m good. Keep going,” I reassure him. “I know the DNA crap really changes nothing, to me at least. Victor is my dad in every sense of the word.”

He nods in agreement. “When I saw your dad’s blood type, it hit me. I knew you were O positive.”