Chapter 22: Nowhere (Tristan's POV)
I think it's been twenty minutes now. Twenty minutes of us just sitting side by side on her bed, in pin-drop silence. We kissed for a while, she kissed me back. And the second time we pulled away to breathe she told me to stop. So I did and since then we've been sitting in this awkward silence that I would do anything to get rid of.
"Don't do that again," she said softly.
I turned to look at her. That's the first thing she wants to say to me? "Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to."
I looked at her, trying to read her. To figure her out. "Okay," I agreed.
Her eyes snapped up to my face. "What?"
"You said you don't want me to do that again? Okay."
"You... you'll agree so easily?"
"There isn't much room for agreement. I have to listen to what you tell me."
"Why?" she frowned.
"Because if I don't it's sexual assault," I scoffed.
She clicked her tongue, huffing in frustration. "Aren't you exaggerating?"
"I'm not. I'm really not. Because if someone sees me trying to kiss you and you tell me not to, I will likely go to jail."
"Tristan."
"Emma."
"This conversation and this night, both, are going nowhere. So, let's end both. I think you should go."
"You said I could stay."
"I meant go to the other room," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Before I go, answer my question."
"Question or questions?"
"I don't know yet," I mumbled.
"Fine. Ask."
"Why don't you want to kiss me?"
She dragged a hand down her face and then looked at me. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you. I just don't want those kisses to turn into something else because I know that you'll get hurt because of me again if they do. And I really don't want that for you."
"But that's my choice, how is it fair that you do this to make that decision for me? If I want you to hurt me, I'll do whatever I want to."
"Why are you looking to get hurt?" she groaned.
"I'm looking to have you! And if I get a little hurt in the process, then I'm okay with that."
"Well, I'm not!" she snapped, turning her body to face me. "I'm not okay with that," she repeated a little softly this time.
I let out an agitated sigh, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek. "You know what, you're right. This conversation and this night, both, really are going nowhere. So, why don't you and I just do what we do best, hmm? Pretend like nothing happened but still do petty things to get back at each other. I'll go to the other room, pretend like nothing happened, and be gone before you wake up tomorrow, okay? Sound good?" I climbed off the bed, standing there and looking at her.
"And then when we get to work on Monday, we'll still pretend like nothing happened, and we won't talk about the fact that we argued tonight, and I'll act like a dick and you give a shit ton of work again, and you'll do it all. But you'll complain later about how I was a dick, isn't that our routine?" I scoffed, tucking my hands into my pockets.
She kneeled on the bed and crawled over, stopping in front of me. "If you're acting like a dick, am I not allowed to be angry?"
"If you're rejecting me again and again and again, even when you fucking want me, am I not allowed to be angry?" I argued, raising my brows at her. "I'm not going to do this forever, Emma. I have a boiling point too, and the day you hit it, I'll fire you. And you'll be the one ruined, not me."
"So, if you can't have me, you'd rather ruin me, right? That's how selfish you are?"
"Yes! That's how fucking selfish I am after hurting because of you for four years straight."
"Then are you trying to hurt for four more?!" she groaned. "When I'm telling you to stay away from me, to keep our relationship professional, you don't want to listen! You want to kiss me!"
"I can't help it if I do!"
"Then fire me. Go ahead and fire me right now, Tristan."
"Why?" I laughed humorlessly. "It's not like that will change anything. You still won't be with me again. You'll still hurt me."
"When I'm in your life, I'm hurting you. When I'm not in your life, I'm still hurting you. Then what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to stay in my life without hurting me for once. I want you to admit what you want and work towards it, not run away from it. I want you to let me back in. Can you do that? Can you?" I rambled.
She stared at me, working her jaw tightly.
I sighed, shaking my head. "Forget it. You know, maybe it's my fault. I trust you too much because I loved you too much. I still might. But I really need to get over it, right? Right?" I asked, looking down at her.
She sighed, falling back, sitting on her heels while staring at the sheets.
"Forget it, Emma. I mean it this time. You want our relationship to stay professional? No problem, it'll be professional. I won't ask if you're tired or want to go for lunch. I won't make you take breaks so your head doesn't start pounding. I won't listen to music with you, I won't talk about random things with you. I won't take you out to meals or let you leave work early. I'll be the boss I should have been from the beginning. Tell me, is that okay with you?"
She looked up at me, biting her bottom lip nervously.
"Is it?" I asked, lifting a single brow at her.
She shook her head softly and whispered, "No."
I chuckled, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Then figure out what you want. You can't have both. I'm either just your boss, or I'm a lot more than that." I grabbed my blazer that was sitting on her chair and turned to leave. I stopped when she tugged at my sleeve.
"Tristan," she mumbled.
I closed my eyes and let out a breath. "What?" I asked without turning to look at her.
She didn't say anything, and I was sure that I had made her cry for a second. I was so sure of it. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," she whined.
I turned around, rolling my eyes, and pulled my arm away from her hand, keeping my hand in my pocket. "What?" I asked again, getting more and more irritated by the second. "What do you want?"
She was up on her knees again. She watched me for a few beats and then grabbed my tie, pulling me into a kiss.
I didn't kiss her back. And I won't kiss her until she says it until she admits it out loud until she admits that it's me she wants.
She pulled away, frowning a little.
"I won't kiss you," I shook my head. I turned to leave again but she grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Emma, seriously, what is it? What do you fucking want?"
"You."
I blinked, staring at her and not knowing how to respond. I can't tell if she really means it or if she's just saying it in the moment.
"I want you," she mumbled.
"Do you mean that?" I asked, sighing in exhaustion.
She nodded slowly.
"Prove it," I said, tilting my chin up.
She stood up on the bed, looking down at me. "Prove it?"
I nodded. "Prove it."
She leaned down and kissed me again, holding either side of my face. She kissed me, she really kissed me. Like she meant it. Like she was craving it and was desperate for it.
I was enjoying it until she pulled away.
"It's a little hard to prove it if you aren't kissing me back," she deadpanned.
I shrugged, "Not my problem."
"Tristan," she groaned, shaking me lightly.
"I'm leaving."
"Aye!" She grabbed my blazer, tossing it on the chair. "I'm not done with you yet." She grabbed my tie and pulled me back too.
"You—"
She beat me to it. "Just be quiet," she huffed, leaning in and kissing me harder than before. She pulled back to look at me, just to look at me. "I'm sorry," she whispered against my lips. She pecked them one more time and then pulled away, stepping back and falling into her bed. She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked up at me. "You can go if you want to. There's a new toothbrush in the cabinet, use it in the morning." She scooted back and tucked her legs under the covers.
I loosened my tie before untying the knot, sliding it off, and throwing it onto her chair.
She stared at me. "What? You're not leaving?"
"I'm going to kill you," I said slowly.
"Do it," she dared, jutting her chin out. She sat against the headboard, watching me.
"You're so annoying." I leaned down, tilting her chin up with one finger before my lips landed on hers.
She didn't waste a second between our lips meeting and her kissing me back.
I pulled away and heard her huff. "Wait," I chuckled, sitting in front of her, crossing my legs. I grabbed her ankles, straightening her legs out and pulling her forward, placing her legs on either side of me. "So much closer, see," I smiled.
She rolled her eyes, leaning back on her hands. "You talk way too much."
"Would you rather we kiss more instead?" I smirked, lifting a brow at her and leaning in.
"I'd rather we sleep." She pushed me away and lay down.
I grabbed her hands and pulled her back up into a sitting position. "Together?" I whispered.
She put her hands on my chest and pushed me back to lay down. "Go to the other room."
I propped myself up on my elbows to look at her. "Ouch," I laughed. "Why?"
"Mr. Reed."
I groaned, rolling my eyes. "It's the weekend," I deadpanned. "No, Mr. Reed." I straightened up, lying down beside her.
"Tristan—"
"Just ten minutes, please?" I lay on my side, propping my elbow up and holding my head in my hand. "Just ten minutes," I whispered, taking her hand and fidgeting with her fingers.
"Fine, just ten minutes."
.
.
.
.
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Chapter 22
next chapter: liars