Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) (42 page)

BOOK: Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)
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He seemed to agree, smiling at me, and moving close to take my arm.
 
“Well, if I have to choose, I choose Danika.
 
She doesn’t pick on me.”
 

Tristan waved us off, but his smile was big now, his dimples taunting me.
 
“Fine.
 
Go have your walk and talk about me.
 
I’m going to go complain to Frankie about how crazy women are.”

“Good luck with that,” I called to him, Jared already tugging me away.
 
“She’ll take my side, too.”

“Not if I let her give me another tattoo!”
 

“Ha!
 
That’s what you think.
 
I’m letting her give me one, too, and I have no ink, so that’s a much bigger thrill for her.
 
And if I have to, I might show her a boob.”
 

That had him turning on his heel and following us.
 
The ink part more than the boob.
 

“What do you mean?
 
You’re getting ink?
 
Where and what?
 
And when did you decide this?”

I smirked.
 
“Space, my friend.
 
All good things come to those who give me space.”
 

“I’ll get it out of Frankie!”

“You won’t.
 
She’s already been sworn to secrecy, and she won’t risk me backing out just to appease your curiosity.”

“You’re an infuriating woman, you know that?”
 

I gave him the mature response for that one, sticking my tongue out at him as we walked away.
 

“Talk to me, sis,” Jared began, as we finally lost sight of his brother.
 

I sighed, leaning into him again.
 
“I’m just upset.
 
It’s not the kind of upset anything can be done about.”

“So vent.
 
You’re a venter, right? It helps.
 
Let me hear it.”
 

I was a venter.
 
I don’t know why, but saying things out loud almost always made me feel better, even when the saying didn’t change anything.
 

“What Rosette said back there, about the night of the performance.
 
Well, obviously that stung.
 
I mean, I had pretty much already guessed that they had a past together.”
 

“I wouldn’t call it that.
 
She was a random hook up, Danika.
 
That was his MO for a long time, but trust me when I tell you that he’s completely different with you.”
 

I nodded, giving him solid eye contact.
 
“Well, I had already guessed about the hooking up, and he’s always been painfully honest with me about things like that, and we weren’t together when it happened, but later that night…we were, and I thought it was a really special night, and now, thinking that it
so
wasn’t, I just feel, I don’t know, bereft.
 
I love being with him.
 
He’s so great in a lot of ways, but he never expresses his feelings verbally, and so I have to take the special moments and treasure them.
 
I just feel so sad, because I was robbed of one of the best ones.
 
I feel like we lost something tonight, and I just need some time to process it.
 
I just want to go somewhere and nurse my wounds, yanno?”

He nodded, his eyes so understanding that I felt myself tearing up.
 

I blinked those tears away, calling myself a stupid girl.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jared and I ended up at the casino’s sports bar, betting on horse races, and drinking for free.
 

He was great at cheering me up, telling me funny stories about he and Tristan as kids, and just generally finding ways to cheer me up.

I was well on my way to a better mood, when he said something that had me stewing again, but for a different reason.

“If you need something stronger than a cocktail, just let me know.
 
I can get you whatever you need within ten minutes.”

I didn’t respond for a while, thinking about that.
 

“Jared, you need to knock it off with that stuff.
 
I’m not even sure what you were referring to
—”

“Anything you—”

“No, thank you.
 
Hard liquor is more than enough for me.
 
You need to knock that shit off, Jared.”

“We’re only twenty-one, sis.
 
Live a little.
 
We can be responsible and boring when we’re thirty.”

“That stuff is bad for you, Jared.
 
All of it.
 
Alcohol is bad enough.
 
You don’t need to be trying every crazy thing that you come across.”
 

He waved that off.
 
“Don’t worry about it.
 
I like to party, but I know what I’m doing.”
 

I sighed, thinking that it was impossible to talk a twenty-one year old out of being stupid.
 
And I was the same age, so I should know.

   
He gripped one of my hands in both of his.
 
“Listen.
 
Whatever you think happened that night didn’t change just because of what happened before.
 
And Tristan may not express himself, but I know him better than anyone, and I can tell you that he’s never been like this, not with anyone.
 
He’s fallen for you, and seeing it, I think it’s the first time for him.”

“He was
engaged
to Natalie.”
 
My tone turned resentful just thinking of that other woman.

“That was ages ago, and they were kids.
 
Every guy in the world thinks he’s in love with the first woman he has sex with…If anything, what you should take from Tristan and Natalie is that he is capable of being blindly loyal, maybe too much so.
 
He made promises to her, and he kept every one of them.
 
She’s a piece of work for what she did to him, but that’s not on him.
 
If he was capable of being loyal to a woman like that, just imagine what he’d be willing to do for someone like
you
.”

Tristan found us there hours later.
 

We were clutching hands and giggling, drunk off our asses.
 

We’d both gotten to the saying sweet things to each other’ phase of our drunk.
 

“There’s nothing I want more than to be your real sis, Jared,” I told him, eyes wide.
 
Somehow, in drunk mind, that was meant to emphasize my point.
 
“I’d adopt you if I could.
 
No bullshit.”

He patted my hand, his own eyes getting crazy wide.
 
“I’d adopt you back.
 
No bullshit.
 
But I have an even better idea.
 
Marry Tristan, and it’ll be legal.
 
Wouldn’t that be so awesome?”

We nodded together, slow, big nods.
 
“Totally awesome,” I whispered.
 
“If I could have one wish in the whole world, that would be it.
 
I love you guys.
 
I want you to be my family.”
 

He gripped my hand hard, his eyes and tone earnest.
 
“I want that too.
 
And we totally love you back.
 
Tristan might not say it, but I know him better than anybody, and he totally does.”
 

“I love you,” I told him, feeling drunk, weepy time coming on.
 

“I love you back.”
 

“Isn’t this sweet?” Frankie asked wryly, from somewhere behind us.
 

I craned my neck and then whipped my head around to see where she was.
 

She and Tristan stood at our backs.
 
She had her arms folded across her chest, a huge smile on her face.
 

Tristan wasn’t smiling, but he also wasn’t looking more than mildly annoyed, which was a good sign, considering I’d just been telling his brother how much I loved him.
 

“How many have you had?” Tristan asked sternly.
 

For some reason, that made us both giggle hard, clutching our bellies.
 

“Not more than eight,” Jared said.

“Less than three,” I said at the same time.
 

We looked at each other, and dissolved into giggles again.
 

“I’ve got Jared,” Frankie told Tristan.
 

He nodded.
 
“I’ve got my girl.
 
Talk to you tomorrow.”

Tristan came around my chair, kneeling down in front of me.
 
He studied me, putting a warm hand on my knee.
 

“Still mad at me?” he asked.
 

I shook my head.
 
“Not mad.
 
Just hurt, but the hurt is numb now, so that’s good.”
 

He straightened, tugging me to my feet.
 
He pulled me into his side as we began to walk, taking most of my weight.
 

“Hurt?” he questioned, sounding confused.
 

He’s such a
guy
, I thought.
 
“Yes.
 
Hurt.
 
That night we were together in the rain.
 
I thought it was special, and it wasn’t, and I feel like I lost something important when a night that was special to me lost all of its special.”

His other arm came around, his hand snagging at the back of my head, then cupping, then caressing.
 
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.
 
That night was special, and whatever stupid fucked up shit I did before that can’t change how special it was.”
 

That made me warm all over.
 

I was so starved for any words from him that I’d take scraps and be happy.
 

“Jared was trying to tell me that.
 
He’s the best.”

“He’s the best,” Tristan agreed, affection in every word.
 

“We never should have kissed.
 
I didn’t know he was my future brother at the time.”
 

That had him stopping, his arms around me tightening.
 

“When was this?” he asked, his tone very, very careful.
 

“At the pool party, that night I went out with him.”

“Did you…were you…”
 
He didn’t seem to know what to say, but his voice held a thread of something that had me tensing up, even in my drunken stupor.
 

“Was I what?” I asked.
 

“Are you attracted to him?”
 

I patted his arm.
 
“No, no, no.
 
It’s nothing like that.
 
Please don’t get mad at him.”
 

He rubbed at his chest as though it were sore, his eyes getting a bit distant.
 
“I’m not mad.
 
I just need to know what happened.”

I waved my hand in the air in a motion that was supposed to be small, but turned big and sloppy.
 
It reminded me just how drunk I was.
 
Like drunk enough to tell Tristan some shit that he’d never needed to know.
 
“We went out that one time.
 
He kissed me.
 
I let him, for like one minute.
   

“You kissed for a
full
minute
?”
 
He looked queasy, and he kept rubbing hard at that spot on his chest.
 

“I
wanted
to like kissing him.”


What
?
 
What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that it lasted for a full minute because I wanted to like it.
 
He’s a good kisser.”

His head dropped back until he was looking straight up.
 
“I did not need to know that.
 
That’s so messed up.
 
He’s my brother, and you’re my girl.”
 

“Listen.
 
He was a good kisser, but it didn’t matter.
 
I told him right then that we couldn’t date.
 
My feelings were too strong for you, and I let him know that.
 
And that was that.”

“Was his tongue in your mouth?” he growled.
   

My brows shot up at that.
 
He was jealous, which I found to be the most hypocritical thing in the world.
 
“Now
that
you don’t need to know.”
 

“Did he touch you anywhere?”
 

“Don’t be an ass.
 
I just told you everything, and you have no right to be jealous, let alone mad, Mr. Slutty McSlutFace.”

That surprised a short bark of a laugh out of him, but it died a quick death.
 

He straightened, still rubbing at his chest.
 
“I’m not mad.
 
Really.
 
Just hurt.”
 
He rubbed harder as he said the word hurt.
 

I put my hand over his, stepping close.
 
It was crazy, but I actually felt bad, even after all of the things he’d done that had been so much worse than my one minute kiss.
 

“Is this what hurts?” I asked softly, caressing the spot he’d been rubbing.
 
It was right over his heart.
 

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