Chapter Twenty

Senia


I probably screwed things up with Tristan and his family, but I couldn’t sit there and pretend like my mind wasn’t elsewhere. And I couldn’t tell Tristan what I was thinking. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m clingy and demanding. I needed a timeout.

So here I am in Tristan’s study, which is right next door to the room where he practices bass for hours at a time. If he’s that dedicated to his job, I should try to be that dedicated to my schoolwork. I can’t let all this family stuff and all these emotions sidetrack me. But now that Tristan knows I’m here, I fully expect him to come walking through the door into the study and say something totally stupid or totally dreamy. It won’t matter because, either way, it won’t be the words I want to hear; the same words I nearly blurted out at his Grandma’s dining table.

I’m such an idiot. I need to move out of here.

I grab my laptop and textbook then head back to my bedroom. I grab my suitcase out of the closet and begin stuffing the inner pocket with all my panties and bras. Then I pull a zipped case out from underneath the bed: my new goodie drawer since I know Tristan has probably searched all the drawers on this dresser.

“So that’s where you keep it?”

His voice makes my skin ache. I want to turn around to face him, but I’m afraid of what his face will look like when he realizes I’m packing.

“Are you packing?”

I turn around and his eyes are narrowed, as if he’s angry. “I can’t live here any more.”

“Is this because I asked you to have Christmas with us?”

“What? No! That’s … that’s not it at all. It’s just …”

I try to think of a lie, but my mind is not working at normal speed. And the truth is not an option. I can’t tell him I’m leaving because I’m in love with him. That just sounds stupid and if he doesn’t feel the same … I don’t know if I could handle finding out.

“What is it?” he asks as he takes a step toward me.

“I’m … I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

He laughs as he reaches forward and grabs my hand. “You’re leaving because you didn’t get me a present? Come on, what are you going to get me that I don’t already have?”

Exactly what I thought when I was trying to figure out what I was going to get him, which is why I had the brilliant idea of giving him … “Me.”

His smile disappears and I know I’ve scared him. That’s it. I have to leave. I shake his hand off and turn around to continue packing.

He grabs my elbow and turns me around, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes search my face for something. “I didn’t get you anything either. Well, nothing you can unwrap and hold in your hands.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say. “I know how much you hate commuting to class, so I rented an apartment near campus. I want us to move there before next semester.”

“An apartment?”

“Did you just say you’re giving me you for Christmas?”

I think I’m going to be sick. Why did I say that? “Sorry. It just sort of slipped out.”

I try to turn around again to continue packing, but he tightens his grip on my elbow. “Look at me.” I look up into his fierce gray eyes and say a mental prayer that I don’t vomit.

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