Chapter Twenty-Six

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The next morning, Jada's pounding headache brought painful clarity. Alia was right. Jada, never, NEVER, should have chugged back sugary daiquiris like Slurpees from a local Gas N' Go. It wasn't as bad as the night of her video posting folly, but it would take a lot of hydration to get her feeling right again. She had to get it together before her audition at three. Blearily checking her phone for the time, her heart practically stopped when she saw a text notification from Tristan on the screen.

It read: I didn't know you were a yam fan. It sucks that sweet potatoes are standing in our way...

"Yams?" Jada muttered. Glancing at their previous messages, she caught her faux pas.

I could forgive you if I wasn't falling for yams.

Holy crap! Thank GOD for misguided autocorrect. The gist of what she intended to say was there, but with the mistake, she hadn't completely given herself away. It left her with the most common excuse.

Sorry, had a few drinks last night with the girls. Also, yams and sweet potatoes aren't the same thing. Look it up.

Tristan's infamous three dots appeared, suggesting he was also trying to formulate the perfect response. They appeared, disappeared, reappeared, and then his text came through.

Why do you know that???

She sent back the girl shrugging emoji. Too many trivia nights.

Tristan: So...can we talk?

She wanted to say no. She wanted to remind him that things were over.

Today's not a good day. I have that audition with Logan.

I do too. Still, we got to eat, right? If you come over, I'll whip something up. Or I could come meet you.

She shook her head vigorously. She most definitely didn't want him coming over here. Too many mishaps happened when he did. At least, if she met him at his place, she could leave whenever she wanted.

At the risk of food poisoning...fine, I'll come over. What's your address?

Tristan then gave her directions to his place in Malibu. Luckily, it wasn't too far away from hers. Nevertheless, the change in zip codes made a hell of a difference.

Jada let out a long whistle, genuinely impressed. Ren's house might have been fantastic, but Tristan's didn't fall far behind in the glamorous designer homes competition. When Tristan answered the door, Jada almost lost her breath all over again. Why was he so deliciously handsome? Even in basketball shorts and a plain T-shirt, he was still one of the most enticing men she'd ever met.

"Hi. Thanks for coming." His bright smile at her arrival dissipated her apprehension.

"Well, you did promise me food. I assume, that includes coffee as well?" she asked.

"Of course," he said as he led her into the kitchen.

The illustrious space embodied vibrant color with bright blue paint and marble tile. Tristan poured her a cup of rich, hot coffee and Jada added a fair amount of the hazelnut creamer he offered her.

"Breakfast isn't quite ready yet. I'm work."

"Dear god, that sounds ominous."

"It's not! I was waiting until you got here before I really got started. Chorizo Omelet de Tristan has to be eaten at the ideal temperature."

"Good to know."

As Tristan set to work, Jada sipped her coffee and studied his efforts closely. He didn't seem like a newbie in the kitchen as he began whisking the eggs with practiced ease.

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