We're Almost There

11. Don't Flatter Yourself Golden Girl.

Eleven

Tristan

It would take tying him to a train track, a gun to his head, Justin Bieber songs playing, forcing him to stare at a picture of rainbows, kittens and butterflies for Tristan to admit Erin looked sexy. But he couldn't deny it, she looked pretty damn sexy.

Then again, the redheaded waitress looked pretty damn sexy too so it wasn't too hard a choice if he wanted to take someone home for some birthday fun. Erin would roll her eyes every time he flirted with the waitress.

"I don't know why I agreed to this," Erin muttered.

Tristan laughed as he twirled spaghetti around his fork. He loved the power he held over her. "That's the third time you've said that," he reminded her, "and you were the one who suggested we go out."

"Celebrate."

Tristan rolled his eyes. Erin was such a stick in the mud. At that moment he was wondering why he agreed to go out. No one irritated him more than Erin White. Especially when she got that stupid little look of pride on her face where the corner of her mouth pulled at a smile when she knew she won.

Tristan knew the outcome of their time with McKenzie. He would win. Good only won in the stories, especially when the characters say good only wins in the movies. Truthfully, evil won sometimes too.

Now, as Tristan looked at the angel wearing that blood red lipstick and black dress that he picked out, Erin appeared dangerous. At first glance strangers would think that she rode here on a motorcycle with skulls painted on it. Tristan couldn't hide the pride he felt for transforming her into that.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Erin asked, breaking his trance.

Tristan scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Golden Girl."

Erin shook her head and muttered something inaudible under her breath.

Tristan cupped his hand behind his ear. "Sorry, what was that?" He bat his eyes innocently.

Erin sat straighter. "Nothing of your concern, Diablo."

"Hmm mm."

They ate in silence for a minute before Erin spoke up. "So, I don't know why, but I have a question."

"Shoot."

Erin cleared her throat. "Did you ever have a girlfriend?"

"Not really girlfriends," Tristan explained, "more like fuck buddies." Erin made a disgusted face. "What about you?"

"Have I ever had a girlfriend?" Erin asked. There was a small smile on her face like she didn't make jokes often and was proud of that one.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Answer the question, Rin."

Erin blinked at Tristan's use of her name, but recomposed herself quickly. "Not necessarily. I did have something with a boy from my life... before. We never actually dated though."

"Just fucked on occasion."

Erin blushed angrily, but there was a hint of a smile on her face like he could actually make her laugh. "Would you stop it!"

Tristan laughed, he loved messing with her. "If I did then I wouldn't be any fun," he pointed out.

"Oh," Erin said, "I see. You don't have any non-sex jokes."

"Bullshit," Tristan protested.

"Then tell me a clean joke."

"One squeaky clean joke for a squeaky clean girl comin' up." Tristan rubbed his hands together in his own anticipation. "So this guy walks into a bar, right?"