Lingus (28 page)

Chapter 40

I felt like the worst friend in the world the next morning when I unlocked my phone to see the missed call in my log.

Shit. I'd completely forgotten that my phone rang while Ryan and I were outside. It was from Tristan just like he had promised. I glanced at the clock and noticed it was around ten already. Chances were that he was probably up and about. Pressing the screen to call him, I cleared my throat a bit while it rang. After about two rings a throaty voice coughed on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mag, it's Kat. I'm sorry I didn't call you back last night," I apologized.

He coughed once more and yawned long and low. "Hey," he said in a much cheerier voice than I expected. "I was worried about you."

I groaned to myself feeling really fucking guilty that I didn't call him back. "I'm fine, Ryan had just dropped me off when you called, and then I fell asleep. You okay?"

"Oh." He was silent a moment too long before he sighed this pitiful, drawn out noise that sounded like defeat. "Yeah, I'm okay," he answered but his voice had lost that cheery edge to it.

"What happened? Why did you get fired?" I swear I almost threw up as I asked him those questions. My heart started beating erratically in my chest at the possibilities as to what could have gotten him fired. I wanted to know but I didn't. I didn't think I could handle him blurting out that he got fired for reasons I couldn't come up with. What could a guy get fired for in porn? Putting it in a girl's butt instead of her vag? Or maybe blowing his load too quickly? That lost thought made me gag.

"One of the directors told me I wasn't fit to perform," he answered steadily.

I choked. Fit to perform? I steeled myself ready to reassure him with words that could potentially create an awkward situation for us, but I had hopes that our friendship was solid enough to withstand my horny nature. After all, isn't that what friends do? Pick you up when you're down and help you kick the person's ass who got you there? "Tristan, you are probably—," I sighed at my words, debating whether or not to continue on my train of thought before giving up. "No, you are the hottest guy I've ever seen in my life. How could they tell you that you weren't fit enough to perform?"

I don't know what I was expecting him to respond with but it definitely wasn't the loudest over the phone laugh in existence.

"Kat," he gasped for air. "I couldn't get hard," he laughed even louder. "It wasn't that they thought I wasn't attractive enough, but thank you. You just made my day," he cackled obnoxiously.

"Oh," was the only thing I managed to spit out. My entire body flushed fire engine red at my stupidity.
Oh my God
. Of course that's what he meant. I needed to kick myself in the ass after that. I wanted to ask him why he couldn't do his job but his laughs were too distracting.

Tristan laughed for a minute longer before controlling himself. "You really think I'm the hottest guy you've ever seen?" he had the nerve to ask.

I groaned and slapped myself on the forehead with my palm. "Shut up."

"Goldie," he said in that velvet voice that could seduce every woman on the planet. "Just tell me."

"Maybe," I mumbled out before thinking of a better response to get him to shut up. "Andrew Wood is a close tie. You win because you have better abs." Tristan was a lot more attractive than Andrew Wood, I knew this with every fiber of my being but still. He didn't need to know that.

This time it was Tristan's turn to groan. "I think you're full of shit."

I couldn't help but laugh at his frustration. "That's the difference between you and me. I know you're full of shit and you just think I am."

"Uh huh," he muttered, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. "I'm coming home tonight, want me to come pick you up after I get Yoda?"

"Sure, I guess it would be nice to see you," I teased him.

We made plans for him to come get me after he asked me twice more to please confirm whether or not I really believed he was that attractive. Jackass. I got up, showered, and spent the rest of the day hanging out with Matlock on the couch before going grocery shopping. A little after seven, I heard the lock on my door turn and froze. With my heart beating rapidly in my chest, I grabbed the dirty steak knife I had on my plate from lunch earlier and stood up, holding the handle securely in my hand and ready to do something to the intruder. I jumped over the armrest of the couch and gripped the knife tighter.

"Kat?" Tristan's voice called out from the doorway.

"Damn it, Tristan!" I screamed in frustration, grabbing at my chest as if the gesture could steady the thundering rhythm of my heart.

The beautiful brown hair of my annoyingly perfect friend appeared around the corner of the walkway. He was smiling bigger than I'd ever seen in the past before he frowned, looking from my face down my frame until his eyes landed on the hand that held the knife. "Jesus! Were you planning on stabbing me?" he asked, throwing his hands up in surrender.

I glared at him before dropping my newly acquired weapon onto a side table. "I thought you were breaking in! You almost gave me a heart attack, ass."

"Were you planning on stabbing me, goldie?" Those warm, green apple eyes twinkled in amusement.

"What do you think? That I was going to kiss my potential attacker to death?" I snickered, trying to calm my breath so that my heart could quit racing.

Tristan gave me that crooked smile that made my insides heat up so much I worried they'd melt. "If you were going to kiss me to death I'd be okay with it."

My stomach bottomed out.

I opened my mouth but didn't close it.

Did he...?

Did he just say…?

For all I knew gravity could have ceased to exist and my body could've been floating around the atmosphere.

His nose and high cheekbones flushed the cutest shade of pink I'd ever seen. His eyes darted from me to the wall behind me in quick succession before he sighed and raised a hand to tug at his hair. "Kat." He took a step forward until he was so close I could fully appreciate how much bigger he was than me— a head taller, his shoulders and chest dwarfed my not so slender frame.

I could feel the mood change easily from our light bantering to something heavy on my skin. I was trembling before his hands touched my face, his palms cupped my jaw, long fingers brushed my hairline. I closed my eyes instinctively, soaking up the sharp jolts of static that seemed to radiate from his hands. "Mag," I said breathlessly.

"I missed you so much," he whispered sweetly against my temple.

His lips brushed so lightly across my forehead, I shivered through each vertebrae in my spine. How was it like this with him? How? As nice as Ryan's lips were on mine the night before, I'd take five minutes of this instead of a million of Ryan's kisses. "I missed you too," I said, eyeing his thick Adam's apple.

He tilted my face up and leaned down toward me at the same time his mouth exhaled warm, peppermint scented breath over my lips. Tristan stayed there for what seemed like a lifetime, just inhaling and exhaling inches from my face. He slid his hands from my cheeks down the column of my neck until they rested on my shoulders. "We should go before Yoda pees in my car," he murmured hoarsely.

A couple of moments passed before I stepped away to grab my purse and shoes in silence. He stood by the walkway to the door with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest as his jaw clenched again. With my purse under my arm, I slapped his stomach with the back of my hand on the way out. "Let's go."

Tristan locked the door behind me using his key and trailed a few feet behind as we jogged down the stairs and headed to his Audi. Yoda's big, square head was staring at us from the front passenger seat with his long tongue dangling out of his mouth. "Yoda!" Tristan hollered at him, swiping at the air like he meant to gesture for the big angel to get back into the back seat. The massive and stubborn puppy stayed where he was until I opened the door and kissed the side of his muzzle twice.

"My boy," I said against his musty coat, giving him a hug that looked more like a headlock.

"Get in the back, Yoda," Tristan instructed him, eyeing the backseat for pee stains. He reversed out of the parking lot as we headed to his house. With only the soft rock radio station playing in the background, we sat together quietly until he cleared his throat. "I just have one more convention I have to go to in three weeks and after that..."

My skin itched in anticipation. "After that what?"

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm retiring Robby."

I choked on my spit at his declaration.

Retiring Robby?

Tristan was glancing at me out of the corner of his eye while tapping his fingers almost violently against the steering wheel.
Wait
...

I narrowed my eyes in the direction of the one hand clearly in my eyesight. The skin on his knuckles was a flaming red, chafed and split against the smooth pale tone of the rest of his skin. I leaned over the console and hovered my fingertips over the raw flesh. "What the hell happened to your hand?" I asked in a shrill voice.

The green eye in my vision went wide at my question. "Well... you see..." he stuttered.

"Did you get into a fight with a brick wall and lose?" I used the tip of my index finger to brush across the healthy skin of his digits. When he didn't say anything I sucked in a breath. "What happened?"

"I didn't hit anyone," he answered vaguely, prying his right hand off the steering wheel to rest palm up on my thigh.

A million thoughts rolled through my head as to what could have happened to him but I didn't want to pry. I knew he would eventually tell me, but whatever it was had to be something embarrassing since he refused to tell me. This was the man who told me with a straight face about the time he sharted in his pants. I shoved the thoughts aside and flipped his hand over to see the marred skin. "Seriously, what happened?"

He coughed and scratched at his face with his short fingernails, apprehension evident on his face. "I punched my wall. Just a regular wall not a brick one, smartass."

I raised an eyebrow, more to myself than to him. "Why?"

"I was pissed off," he said simply.

I wanted to ask him what he was pissed off about but I didn't. Instead, I brought his hand up closer to my face to inspect the slender, perfectly boned appendage. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," he said with a wince when I barely grazed his knuckles.

"It looks terrible," I muttered, acknowledging the bruising that circled the wounds. "I'm going to put something on it when we get to your house."

He scoffed keeping his eyes locked on the road ahead. "Not necessary."

I shrugged a single shoulder before squeezing each one of his fingers with mine. "It's too bad I don't care what you want."

Tristan fisted his hand and closed it around my four longest fingers. He smiled cheekily as his eyes flickered from me to the road. "Did you hear what I said? About quitting?" he asked, in a slightly lower voice than normal.

It didn't seem weird to me at that point that he was bringing up quitting again so quickly. It was easy to forget that this man with a great personality kept to himself so much. "I'm not deaf, Mag. Of course I heard that you're retiring," I managed to spit out, trying to think of exactly how I felt about it. I mean it was pretty fucking awesome, as long as he didn't start whoring it up— unless he was whoring it up with me. The problem was that I wasn't even sure if he felt anything for me besides friendship. "Why are you quitting? I mean, why all of a sudden?"

We were at a red light by that time, and he turned his head to look at me. His smile was gentle as he answered. "I think it's time."

Time for what? I held up my hand for him to high-five me. "Well, I'm happy if you're happy," I tried to say as evenly as possible because a big part of me was scared of change that could possibly take over my friendship with Magellan. He didn't have a girlfriend because of the porn so once he wasn't doing it anymore, what would happen? My poor heart couldn't handle being the type of friends we were now and knowing he was getting dirty with random girls for fun. At least with the porn I knew it was technically a job. A job with a nameless face, no emotion, and no tie.

If I hadn't had Zoey in my life for so long I'd probably feel differently about porn in general. It would be harder to see people in the industry as just
people
. My Zoey, Zoey Quinn, was the goofiest, kindest, and most quirky person I'd ever met, and she was so much more than Zoey Star. What she did when she went to Los Angeles was such a small part of who she was I knew she could care less about the people she had put her tongue or fingers into. I'm sure she couldn't remember a quarter of the girl's names she'd met along the way. It was for that reason, that knowledge, that my heart and mind could accept Tristan for Tristan King and not just Robby. It also probably helped that I refused to look up his movies, because I'd probably end up crying with a tub of ice cream in my lap. Or, worse, my hummingbird in my hand while I cried my eyes out.

"I think it'll be good for me," he said in a soft voice, peering at me through those thick, dark eyelashes. "We'll have more time to spend together..." he trailed off, squeezing my hand.