Two hours later
I am crumpled and sleepy in Tristan’s bed. That was one hell of a sex session.
He fucked me every which way—so good that I’m in an orgasm-induced stupor.
His hand roams up and over my hip, and he kisses the side of my face. “I’m going to get us some dinner.”
“Hmm.” I smile dreamily with my eyes closed.
“I had planned on cooking, but I seriously can’t be fucked,” he murmurs. “I’ll get us some takeaway. I’m starving.”
“Hmm.”
He kisses me again and pulls me close and holds me tight. I smile at the feeling of him up against my body. “Back soon.”
I come to my senses, and I sit up on my elbow. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I’ll walk around the corner. There’s a strip of restaurants. What do you feel like?”
“Umm . . .” I frown as I try to wake myself up. “Do you want me to come?”
“You don’t have to.” He climbs out of bed.
I watch him dress, and I know I really should make an effort. “Get me some clothes, and I’ll come.”
He walks into his closet and retrieves a pair of his shorts and a baggy sweater. He throws them on top of me, and they hit my head. “Not those.” I smile. “My clothes.”
“No, I’m not going looking for your clothes. We’re going around the corner for two minutes. Throw them on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed. He yanks the sweater over my head, and I bend and pull the baggy gray Nike basketball shorts on.
I grab my elastic band and pull my hair up into a messy bun.
I look a complete disaster, and I put my arms out wide. “Still want to be my boyfriend?”
He looks me up and down and smiles mischievously. “Come to think of it . . .”
I giggle as he takes me into his arms. He kisses me as I wrap my arms around his neck. “I like having you here,” he whispers as he holds me close.
“I like being here.” Our lips touch, and I smile. “Impersonating you could be my new hobby.”
He chuckles as he pulls me by the hand. “I’m fucking starving, woman.”
We ride the elevator downstairs, and luckily nobody is in the foyer. I glance down at myself and cringe. Oh my God, I look appalling.
He takes my hand, and we walk out onto the street. So different to where I live. I catch sight of our reflection in the window, and I have to bite my lip to stop my huge goofy smile. We are holding hands in public. We’re really going to try this relationship thing.
Is this happening?
We turn the corner, and my eyes widen in horror. “Oh no, Tristan,” I whisper. The street is busy and bustling. “I look ridiculous.”
He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “Shut up, Anderson. You look beautiful to me.” He kisses my temple, and I smile against him. “Just fucked—suits you.”
I smile up at my handsome date. He makes me feel beautiful. Never once since we’ve been together have I ever felt uncomfortable in my skin with him. Everything between us just feels so organic and natural. “What do you feel like, babe?” he asks as he looks along the street.
“Whatever. I like all food.” I smi
le.
He leads me farther down the street. The restaurants are all trendy and hip. Beautiful people are everywhere. “Thai?” he asks.