Mr. Notting Hill (Mister) - Page 30

“Maybe.”

“You’re going to have to put a smile on your face or everyone is going to know something is up.”

“I know.”

“So apart from the lying and the cheating and all the money your parents have spent on this party, what else is the problem?”

“Apart from all that?” I took the rest of my shot and leaned against my dressing table. “You know that every single person at this party is going to be staring at me. You too.”

Tristan shrugged. “Who cares?”

“There will be no excuse to leave early and you won’t be able to hide up here and avoid everyone.”

Tristan stayed silent for a beat. “That wasn’t my plan, but it sounds like it might have been yours.”

“I just don’t like parties.”

“I gathered.”

“And my mum told me she’s got us a cake—can you believe that?”

“How terrible. What an awful mother, getting her newly engaged daughter a cake. What could she be thinking? We should call the police and have her arrested.”

He might think it was no big deal, but I knew a cake meant a cake cutting. And that meant—urgh. I’d have to tell everyone I had a virus or something.

“I can see your mind ticking over. What aren’t you telling me? This can’t just be about the fact your mum bought you a cake.”

“Put two and two together, Tristan. We’re going to have to cut the cake. Together. And then people are going to expect us to kiss.” I leaned against my dressing table.

Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Okay so . . . we’ll kiss.” He stood up and I looked away, embarrassed that we were having to discuss kissing like we were talking about groceries.

“In front of everybody.” He clearly hadn’t understood we were going to have to kiss for the first time in front of about four hundred people.

“Right. But unless you’re telling me we’re going to have to do that naked, I’m not quite sure what the problem is.”

“We’ve never kissed before. We’re probably going to bump noses. Or worse, I’m going to topple over because I’m bent over backward so you can reach me from up there.”

Tristan stood and put his hands in his pockets. “I see the problem. Good thing there’s still time. We can make a run for it. We can pretend we forgot a pair of shoes or something—leave them all to it. They won’t miss us.”

I growled and Tristan stepped nearer.

My heart began to rev like a Formula One racecar. I slid to the far side of my dressing table, but he just came closer. Then he stepped one leg over mine so my legs were trapped between his and slid his thumb under my chin.

“What are you doing?” My voice came out weak and unsteady.

“I figure since we’ve never kissed before, you might want to practice.” My breath caught in my throat. I needed to inhale or I was going to pass out.

“See here, when you’re leaning, you’re even lower than when you stand—which is saying something, Cream Puff. But the amazing thing about human bodies is that they’re meant to fit together.” His voice had lowered and it felt like we were underwater. I couldn’t hear properly and couldn’t move. “I can still lean down to you like this.” Slowly, he bent and lifted my chin so our faces were just millimeters away from each other. His breath was hot and fresh, and I shouldn’t want him to kiss me as much as I did. There wasn’t anything I wanted more in that moment. He was so calm and calming—his touch was lavender oil and a warm bath, sunshine and a glass of wine—yet he was in complete control at all times. He took my bottom lip in his mouth and clasped my face in his hands, his long fingers sliding into my hair as he guided me to my feet. All I could do was relax, knowing that Tristan had this. He knew what he was doing. I simply sank into his touch and enjoyed the firm press of his lips, absorbing the heat that spread from him to me and back.

I would have happily stayed like that for a thousand years, but we were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Tristan slowly pulled back. “You taste great.” He fixed me with a look that said everything’s going to be fine, then he headed to the door, removed the stop, and opened it a crack. “Hi, Michele. She’s just getting changed. Do you need anything?”

I stood and tightened my robe like we’d been doing something we shouldn’t.

“Nothing at all,” my mom trilled from the hall. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. I just wanted you to know that people will be starting to arrive in less than ten minutes.”

Tristan nodded, shut the door, and turned to me.

“I should get changed,” I said.

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