Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ (7 page)

Tristan used his napkin to wipe at his face, and his week old beard growth snagged a bit of the material, and it stuck to his face. Peyton added with a grin, “When you make that list, make sure you write down razors on it, unless you’re going for the scruffiest face that can collect crap in it, then you nailed it.”

Tristan scratched at his beard a few times and couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Yeah, I need to clean up, don’t I?” Her lighthearted attitude had him loosening up a bit, so he added, “Plus, what’s wrong with your ass? Looks fine to me.”

Peyton didn’t give him the standard giggle flirt that most girls would, nor did she roll her eyes at him. With a simple nod, she said, “Thanks. But I would have to do an extra hour on the elliptical to make up for eating just one slice.”

Tristan was impressed with her general knowledge of fitness and gave her body a good once over in his mind. He’d always been attracted to any size woman, but a curvy one with some body tone was always top on his list.

Tristan was familiar with the gym himself since he’d dropped out of school. He’d put himself on a self-dictated diet and fitness program when he worked full-time and had the money to pay for the health food and gym membership. But now he didn’t have the money or the inclination to continue and that was something he did miss in his life.

Thinking about his lack of money reminded him that he needed to “talk” with Uncle Morgan again tomorrow. Tristan was owed back pay from his last month of work at J-View Plastics, but Morgan was less than accommodating in returning it, saying that there were things he had to pay for while Tristan was in the hospital. But he knew that was absolute bullshit. There was more than enough money in his checking account to have paid for all of his expenses, plus more, but all of that had been “used.” Or so Morgan said. Any time Tristan asked for his money, Morgan would call him an ungrateful leech, and they would go to blows. However, there was a little money left in an account at the bank that Morgan wasn’t aware of, but that was all that was left from his mother’s estate. Morgan and his mother were only half related, so the tiny bit left from her estate was destined to be left to Tristan anyways. It was everything Tristan had in the world, and it needed to see him through for a while.

“Yeah, well, I intend to indulge in some good old-fashioned junk food for a little while longer. Then I’ll get back on the low carb, high protein, work out an hour a day lifestyle again. For right now, though, I’m going to enjoy how a good chunk of the population lives.”

Tristan picked up another slice of pizza and polished it off in less than a minute. Peyton watched him with a half-smile, half-disgusted look on her face. “Okay, Tristan. You do that. But it’s going to be a bitch to get back into the gym after you have gorged yourself on pure junk and had basically no physical activity for two months. The endorphins would make you feel better, too. Just start back up right now,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.

That line of logic made complete sense, but the lack of funds was holding him up again. It would do him some good to get out of this apartment and stop wallowing in self-pity, but he wasn’t sure if he should jump right back into everything all at once. Not sure how he would react in a crowd, or under pressure again, Tristan decided to go one step at a time. “Let me think about it for a bit. Ya coming back tomorrow? I’ll need food regardless, so let me think on it and see if I can’t find the drive inside myself again.”

Tristan didn’t have a car to drive anymore and needed to make a stop at the bank regardless, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go shopping with Peyton tomorrow anyway. Kill two birds with one stone. Then he wouldn’t have to waste the time making a list, since he had no desire to show Peyton his piss poor spelling skills, even if she
could
read his handwriting. School wasn’t something that Tristan had ever taken seriously, and now that he was an adult, he was easily offended when his grammar or math skills were scrutinized.

By the time Tristan had finished his third slice of pizza, Peyton had already put her coat on and was getting ready to go back out into the cold air. She only had a thin windbreaker on. He knew that it was barely forty degrees outside this hour of the day, and she wasn’t going to be warm enough in that shit excuse for a winter coat.

“It’s pretty cold out there for that coat, don’t ya think? If you need a warmer one, I know I have a collection in the closet behind you.”

He did too. Those were just some of the things that he’d left here the last time this was his short term residence. Tristan didn’t place much value on material things and didn’t want to move anything more than necessary, so he usually left a collection of shit behind no matter where he was. It just so happened that Morgan never did rent the place out again, and his stuff was still there.

“Aww, that’s so sweet, Tristan, but I’m okay.” Peyton walked back to him and held out her hand, “Can I have your phone to enter my number? I work all night tonight and then I’ll sleep until noon or so tomorrow. Then I’ll head to the gym for an hour. If you
do
decide that you want to come with me, I’ll bring us lunch, then we can work out before we go get you some groceries. Sound like a plan?”

Tristan just smiled and pulled his phone out of his back jeans pocket and handed it over to her. She was standing toe to toe with him, but was still a good half foot shorter than his five foot ten inch frame. Peyton typed on his screen for a bit and then handed the phone back to him.

“Good deal. You just let me know what you decide, all right? I’m not going to push you one way or the other, but your body seems like you’ve spent some time in the gym, and it would be a shame to throw all that away. But, I would never get in your face about something you honestly didn’t want to do, unless it was like taking your meds, or something serious like that.”

“Let me check a few things out in the morning, and I will let you know what I want to do, Peyton. Okay?”

“Sure,” she replied with a cute little wriggle to her nose. She opened the door and was just about blown over with a wind gust that came in. Peyton shivered before she tightly pulled her coat around her, and Tristan bounded over to the door as quickly as he could and closed it. He pulled her back into the hallway and without a word opened the closet door and pulled out one of his ski coats from inside.

Peyton started to say something, but Tristan cut her off with a low growl. She narrowed her eyes for a second and then just gave in and turned around while he helped her into the warmer coat. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Thank you, Tristan.”

Peyton smiled a mile wide, and Tristan could see the tiny piercing in her lip when they were standing this close in the light. He gave her a smile right back and cuffed her chin playfully, “You’re very welcome, Miss Independent. It doesn’t hurt to ask for help every once in a while.”

“Back at ya,” she teased. “See ya tomorrow.”

Chapter Eight

T
ristan had good days and bad days in the last month since he’d come home, but more often than not he would call the majority of his days,
bad
. Most of the time his brain was completely on board with his desire of doing absolutely nothing but wallowing in grief. His days were numbered, and he felt like the rest of his life was doomed to disorder and chaos. That wasn’t what he was told at the psychiatric center, but honestly, that was what he took away from his
time
. There wasn’t a cure for being bi-polar, but they’d told him that it was completely manageable; only when he learned how to live with it.

He wasn’t stupid and had asked the nurses at the center for all the information he could have on the different medications he was taking. His first shrink prescribed a medication that really knocked him out, so he faked that it was giving him a rash and they switched him to another one. This one wasn’t as bad as the first, but it was still a depressant to his system and he found he could easily sleep most of the day. He was content to let life pass him by and wallow in self-pity.

Up until now, Tristan didn’t have the energy to care about his hygiene, let alone mentally getting better. But, he was actually excited for the possibilities that this new day held. Peyton was an enigma…she was coerced into being his nursemaid, but she was cleaning, cooking, and talking about getting him back into the gym. It was as if she was his nursemaid, personal assistant, and motivational coach all rolled into one.

He knew he should have put up more of a fight about her working for him, or with him, or whatever this was. Chris was never much more than just an acquaintance, and they’d even gone to blows at the club all those weeks ago. That didn’t mean Tristan had no intention of paying Chris back every dime he’d given to Peyton, far from it. His situation seemed pretty dire right now, but things had a way of turning around. Once this was straight again, he would give the man back every cent he used to bribe this fiery creature.

There was one more thing about Peyton that Tristan was completely stunned by; something he wasn’t used to dealing with. She was sexy as fuck and didn’t act like she knew it. She talked about how she had to work at it to stay fit and didn’t shake her ass in his face every chance she got. The way she carried herself was probably the most attractive thing about her. She laughed easily, didn’t take herself too seriously, and didn’t look at him with pity in her eyes. Peyton didn’t ask him a bunch of stupid questions, or immediately offer to comfort him, as if he was an invalid.

But, she wasn’t like any of the women he’d “been with” before. Peyton was a siren calling to him, but didn’t seem like someone that would jump when he used one of his standard come ons. He’d inadvertently made a simple innuendo about her ass, and she shrugged like it was no big deal. At the time, it wasn’t a big deal; he hadn’t said it to get her into his bed. He’d mainly said it because old habits die hard. Now that he’d spent some time thinking about her, there was a strange possessive feeling that swamped his senses; one that set off warning flags in his brain.

Tristan wasn’t one to go for the “play hard to get” types, so this was unfamiliar territory for him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t painfully hard thinking about her sexy ass, cute smile, and green eyes that went on for miles, but she would come with a lot more trouble than he could handle right now.

With his body in need, Tristan thought about taking a shower and rubbing one out to get himself under control. But, it wouldn’t be the same. Plus his conscience seemed to be on vacation right now, even though it only worked half the time anyway. With nothing to stop him, he decided that he needed a stand in.

It only took two phone calls and thirty minutes for Tristan to have a willing body in his bed. Five minutes into their mutual attack on each other, he realized he’d already forgotten her first name. His memory was shit anyway and this was why he usually just called them all
babe
. Tristan had just used her name on the phone less than an hour ago, but had no clue right now what it was.

She writhed and moaned underneath him as he sucked on her bare breasts. He felt her knee damn near graze his cock as she moved about on the bed, like an animal in heat. It wasn’t even remotely sexy, but Tristan needed this. One of the things that his therapist had warned him about was some recovering bi-polar patients became extremely promiscuous. Fucking horny would have been a better way to describe his current state of mind. He was all worked up, and had too much sexual energy flowing through him with nowhere for it to go.

“I’ve got you good and primed, don’t I, babe?” Tristan said into her ear before biting down on the lobe and pulling.

The floozy groaned and nodded her head. “Yes, you did.”

There was a moment when Tristan looked down at the blonde’s face, giving himself pause for a brief second. He knew that he was feeling guilty for using this woman, but ultimately he needed this. Every one of her actions said that she needed it, too.

The blonde scooted out from underneath him, and Tristan flopped down onto the bed on his back, knowing what she was up to. She straddled his thighs as he pulled a condom out from the box underneath the bed and sheathed himself. She slowly lowered herself onto his cock, practically purring when she was fully seated. She moved slowly at first, further frustrating him. Tristan didn’t say a word, just reached around and slapped her ass cheek as hard as he could from the awkward position. She yelped, but thankfully picked up the tempo.

Tristan could tell that something was different this time, but he wasn’t sure what it was. The blonde was skinny and had a nice rack, but there was nothing inside her head that even remotely attracted him. This was supposed to be an easy release, nothing he hadn’t done a hundred times before. It felt good, but it wasn’t getting him close enough to letting go. As if on cue, Tristan closed his eyes and replaced the blonde’s face with a dark haired vixen with green eyes and a smile that could light up a room. He imaged the sultry woman being the one that rode him, and Tristan could feel the tingling starting at the base of his spine.