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My gaze wandered back to Natalie, and this time, she was the one to catch me looking. I smiled in a sort of lukewarm way, but she didn’t smile back, simply turning to her friend and saying something I couldn’t hear. The friend glanced over, frowning at Tristan, then at me, before she gave Natalie a comforting little squeeze on the arm. Oh, this was silly. I should just ask what the deal was.

Inching closer, I tugged on Tristan’s sleeve, and he turned his head to me. “Is there something going on between you and Natalie? She keeps looking over here like her dog just died.”

Tristan frowned, then swore under his breath. “There’s nothing between us. She’s a friend, but I think she wants to be more.”

“Do you want to be more?” Asking the question had an unfamiliar burn singing my chest.

Tristan’s gaze held mine, his brown eyes flicked back and forth, lips twisting like he was seriously contemplating the correct response. When he finally spoke, it was a low, husky whisper, and each word tipped my world on its axis. “I spend every night in your bed, Erin. Do you honestly think I want anyone else?”

I blinked. Then I opened my mouth. Then I shut it tight. Every organ in my body fizzled with awareness as his meaning sank in. So he did want to be more than friends. All this time I’d thought the attraction was one sided, that maybe I was some charity case he’d decided to take on because he was rich and popular and wanted to give something back. Do a good deed. But no, it seemed Tristan Balfe was attracted to me, even though I went out of my way to be unattractive to the opposite sex. He saw past all that, and he still wanted me. My brain was refusing to comprehend it. That was probably why I blurted, “Technically, it’s not a bed.”

His eyebrows jumped, then furrowed, then he smirked while letting out a deep, sexy chuckle. He stared at me with such warm, simmering heat I felt like I needed to take off a few layers. “Such a stickler for the details.”

The way he said it was so affectionate I felt like I might melt.

Then one of his rugby teammates appeared, “Hey, Tris, how’s that knee of yours doing?”

Tristan held my gaze for a beat longer, a brief flicker of annoyance that this person was interrupting our moment, but then, like the amiable golden boy he was, he turned to his teammate with a smile and replied, “It’s healing nicely. Shouldn’t be long now.”

“Good, because we need you back on the pitch pronto.”

For the next hour, I stayed by Tristan’s side while he chatted and bantered with everyone who approached him. It seemed exhausting to be in such high demand, but he never seemed to run out of smiles or good-natured chat. Every once in a while, he’d glance my way and send me this cute little apologetic look, but I didn’t mind. I was much more of an observer of social interactions than a participator anyway.

By the time the night started to wind down, I was almost disappointed that no one had decided to opt for a late night swim. It would’ve been entertaining to watch. I’d only had two beers, so I was mildly buzzed but my no means drunk. Tristan had only had two as well.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back,” he said as he slid his fingers through mine. My skin tingled at the feel of his palm, especially after his earlier confession. I noticed his brother watching us curiously as Tristan told him he’d see him back home later. I self-consciously tucked some hair behind my ear and tried not to flush. His brother obviously thought we were sneaking off to have sex or something. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t very experienced either. I wanted to kiss Tristan, but sex? That was both a scary and a, uh, okay, pretty exciting prospect.

But yeah, I was far from ready for that.

It was after midnight when we reached the hotel, and all was quiet. Tristan couldn’t do all the stairs because of his knee, so we decided to forego the usual back entrance and headed through the staff door instead. No one was around as we went up in the elevator. My heart still raced in case we were caught. My sister didn’t work nights, but another member of staff could happen upon us and tell Tristan’s dad.

We made it to the attic unseen, a rush of adrenaline going through me as we laughed and climbed up onto the mattresses. I found myself lying flat on my back, looking up at the stars twinkling through the small window in the roof.

“It’s so pretty,” I said, painfully aware of Tristan lying next to me. He was looking up, too, but then he turned his head to me, his eyes sliding along my profile.

“The prettiest.”

I inhaled sharply, my skin flushing as I wet my lips and willed my heart to quit racing. “Did you mean what you said tonight?” I asked, my voice a breathy whisper in the quiet. “About wanting me?”

When I finally met his gaze, his eyes had turned smoky. He reached out, slowly running the tip of his index finger along my jaw. I shivered. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Erin.”

His voice was low, sincere, and every word had my body lighting up with tingles. “It’s hard to believe.”

Tristan turned his body, propping himself up on his elbow to survey me while I remained flat on my back. His eyes travelled over me, and though I wore a vest, a T-shirt and a thick, baggy jumper, I felt like he could somehow penetrate through the layers. “Why is that?”

“Well, look at me,” I lifted my hand to motion to myself. “I’m a girl with nowhere to live who dresses like a fourteen-year-old emo boy. The grey patches under my eyes give me the appearance of a racoon, and I’m probably malnourished with all the convenience food I’ve been eating since I have nowhere to cook anything healthy. Need I go on?”

“That’s not what I see.” His gaze was soft.

“What do you see?”

He considered me a moment. “I see a girl with mysterious eyes, a girl who’s a survivor, who’s been through more than most others her age, who’s kept strong despite the fact that life keeps throwing challenges at her. A girl who is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He paused to tip my chin before stroking my cheek. “A girl who I’ve wanted to kiss all night.”

I swear I stopped breathing the entire time he spoke, and when he leaned down, whispering his lips over mine, I truly didn’t breathe for at least ten seconds. It was gentle at first, explorative, but as his lips began to move, so did mine. Tristan let out a rough breath, then cupped my cheek with his large, warm hand. Electricity zapped along my spine as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past my lips to taste me.

I arched my back and gripped his shoulder, needing more. Tristan climbed over me, settling between my thighs as the kiss turned desperate. I felt him harden and fought against a moan. This was the best, most spine-tingling kiss of my life. I wasn’t sure anything could ever top it.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead to mine, his breathing ragged in a way that turned me on even more.