7 June
Willis Tower, Chicago
“I need an us-ie,” Tristan proclaimed.
“What the bloody hell is an us-ie?”
“More than a selfie. You know, me plus my bros. Us”—Tristan waved
his hand between himself and Rowan and Caleb—“ie.”
Rowan shook his head in chagrin, but he squatted down a bit, allowing Tristan to capture him in the photo. “The caption had better not be stupid,” Rowan grumbled.
Caleb cackled beside him. “But you love the caption this segment.”
Tristan snickered as he grabbed his junk and stuck his tongue out. “Caption this, Ro.”
“Why do I subject myself to you?” Rowan said with a shake of his head. “Wankers at Willis Tower.”
“Good one, Skipper,” Caleb said on a howl.
Tristan squatted down, his phone clutched in his hand, laughing.
“If only your princess could see you now,” Rowan teased.
“Ooh, low blow,” Caleb narrated.
“Not my princess,” Tristan jabbed, but the smile fell away from his face. Straightening, he focused his attention on his phone. He loaded the picture of Rowan, Caleb, and himself with the city of Chicago as a backdrop. “Still want me to say Wankers at Willis Tower?”
He tried to hide the hard feelings behind his happy-go-lucky persona. But every once in a while, something reminded him of his encounter with Ele—her picture on the cover of a magazine, the mention of the royal family on the news—and he would get mad all over again. It was stupid really. Yes, they’d shared some incredibly hot kisses. But he’d shared hundreds of kisses since his fifteenth birthday. His memory of it shouldn’t be more poignant than every other sexual encounter in his life. He could chalk it up to her celebrity or the disparity between her public persona and the reality of who she’d appeared to be on their visit. Something about her intrigued him.
Not that it mattered. He’d never see her in person again. Which was good because if he did, he would either berate her for the shitty way she’d treated him or kiss her until her lips were swollen and sore. As much as he hated to admit it, he wondered if she was thinking about him or if she watched any of his games or if she was sorry for what had happened. But worse, he worried about her. The panic attack or anxiety or asthma—whatever—was one of the scariest things he’d experienced. Seeing her gasping for air, watching the fear in her eyes, had torn him up. He hated thinking about her experiencing it often, but he knew, based on the way her staff had reacted, that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Even as he felt a bit sorry for her, it was hard not to pass judgment. Really, what could be so bad for her?
“Tris, ready?” Caleb’s words pulled him from his reverie.
Glancing down, he completed his post and stowed his phone in his pants pocket. “Where to, Skip?”
“Magnificent Mile,” Rowan answered with a knowing gleam.
It was no accident Rowan had thrown out the “your princess” phrase. Bless him, he’d tried to get Tristan to talk about the crazy day when Ele had walked into his life. But Tristan had refused.
“Let’s go then,” Caleb said, ever eager.
“You sure you don’t want to go out on the Ledge?” Tristan couldn’t help but tease his friend.
Caleb, who had been standing in the middle of the Skydeck the whole time, was deathly afraid of heights.
“Nope, I’m good.”
Caleb was the first to start toward the exit. There were very few people around, and it made the area cavernous. Rowan threw his arm around Tristan’s neck and quickly got him in a headlock. He rubbed his knuckled fist against Tristan’s head before pushing him away.
“This hair is ridiculous,” Rowan said, laughing.
“Needed a championship cut,” Tristan defended, running his hand over the newly dyed tips of his kinky hair. He patted it back into place, smoothing it out from Rowan’s noogie.
“Still,” Rowan remarked.
Tristan shrugged. Rowan was his best mate, but he could be uptight. His conservative stoicism sometimes pushed Tristan to do crazy things just to watch Rowan react. The hair, for example. He had gone to get a trim before leaving for Chicago. But when Caleb kidded about dyeing the top of his hair blond, he imagined Rowan’s annoyance and went for it. Rowan’s scowl and shaking head had made Tristan’s day.