"Do you have any baby mama's?"
Tristan's lips quirked as he kept his eyes on the road.
"No."
"Are you sure?" I could see Bailey narrowing her eyes at him through the rearview mirror.
"Yes."
Given his strict stance on birth control, I didn't doubt his answer. If he had gotten someone pregnant, he wouldn't have abandoned them. He'd have taken responsibility and stepped up as a father. He'd be a great dad; I was sure of that.
For the past hour and a half, as we drove to the festival, Bailey had been quizzing Tristan on anything and everything. Some of her questions were insightful and informative, while the rest were random and uninformative. Like, "If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only bring one type of cheese, what would it be?"
Tristan's answer had been Cheddar — one I never thought he'd choose. So maybe Bailey was onto something with that one.
"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your dancing skills?"
Tristan took a moment to think about it. "I'd say a solid eight. I used to compete against my sister in Just Dance, and I'd smoke her ass every time."
"So you're competitive?"
"Very. Does Hannah like competitive guys?" He asked her, though I was sitting right next to him in the passenger seat.
"Hannah finds competitive guys annoying. Especially when they talk about her like she isn't here," I answered, shooting him a faux-annoyed look.
He glanced at me, grinning, "Sorry, babe."
I couldn't help the small smile that fought its way onto my face and looked away, shaking my head slightly. Those words always got to me, especially when he said them.
"What qualities do you like about Hannah the most?" Bailey asked.
I tensed at this question, curious to know the answer. Especially when I believed I had no redeeming qualities as a partner.
"Do you mean her appearance or her personality?"
"Hm... let's go with both, one from each."
"Easy," he smirked, "Her sass and her ass."
Bailey giggled while I groaned, letting my head fall back and hit the headrest. I should have known that would be his answer. What else was there to like about me?
"I also love how strong Hannah is, and I'm not just talking about her physical strength. It's her resilience, you know? Dealing with life's curveballs — she does it with this inner strength that constantly surprises me. She handles tough situations and comes out even stronger, and that's seriously impressive."
I looked at him, surprised by that admission. He thought I was strong? Why did that make me happy?
"I'm glad that you see that," Bailey nodded with approval, "So would you say you're attracted to strong women?"
He laughed, "I guess. I haven't really thought about it. I've never been in a committed relationship, so I'm not too sure what my preferences are."
"Hmm. So then, what are your thoughts on commitment? Are you one of those guys who don't believe in it? Do you believe that love isn't real?"
"No. One day, I'd like to settle down, get married, have brats — the whole nine yards. Just not for a while. Right now, I'm just enjoying the freedom and all the possibilities that come with it."
Right. I had to keep reminding myself that Tristan wasn't mine to keep. Especially when, each day, I felt myself getting too attached, emotions deepening beyond our initial deal. I'd be lucky if I still had him for the next couple of weeks.
That thought sobered me.
I zoned out while Bailey continued to pester him with questions, watching the passing scenery as I thought about our situation. Had I screwed up by agreeing to this?
Would it hurt when we split up?
I purposely avoided thinking about it because, when I did, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't breathe. That was a bad sign, right?
I sighed, leaning my head against the window. This whole thing made my head hurt. And my heart. On one hand, I was happy, content in a way I hadn't been for a long time. But on the other hand, our eventual split felt like this dark cloud looming over our current relationship, a constant reminder that we had a time limit. It was also a reminder of the impending heartbreak that would inevitably follow.
I wasn't stupid. I knew losing Tristan was going to hurt. I just wasn't confident in my ability to handle it. Would I crumble like I did when I left Dylan? Would the end of our relationship leave me shattered, struggling to function, mirroring the aftermath of my breakup with Dylan? Would it be worse? God, I hoped not. I hoped that I was stronger than that now.
Tristan's hand, warm and possessive, settled over my thigh, sending an electric jolt through my system, and I jerked in surprise. When I looked up at him, he gave me a cheeky grin, shooting me a wink before going back to focusing on driving.
The pit in my stomach deepened, overshadowing the warmth of his touch. I know I should have been happy about that little show of affection, and usually, I would be. But right now, the realization hit me hard — these fleeting moments of affection would soon become memories. His warmth, the casual intimacy, all of it would be gone.
Oh God. Was I going to be forced to watch him get with another woman? Eventually marry her? Have kids with her? I didn't even know if I wanted kids. I didn't know if I could be a good mother — but I did know I didn't want him to have them with anyone else. But that was something for the distant future, and we didn't have one of those.
My eyes pricked at the thought, and I frowned. I wasn't going to cry. So I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers. His hand squeezed mine, just like it did to my heart.
My eyes couldn't leave our joined hands on my lap.
It looked so right.
°•°•°•°
"Are you okay? You were really quiet in the car."
We had just stepped out of the car and Tristan had gotten several of the guys to carry our luggage to our tents. I was, of course, put in his tent, while Bailey had her own a little ways away from us. The tent I was sharing with Tristan was big and in a pretty private spot, with his car parked in front of it to hide it from other's view.
He had to leave to go sort out a few last-minute things, so Bailey and I were going to be on our own for a while. I'd probably only see him tonight when they lit the bonfire.
I forced myself to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay. I'm just tired. Didn't get much sleep, thanks to you."
He grinned. "Who needs sleep when you've got me?" Planting a quick kiss on my forehead, he added, "I've got to go. See you later, yeah? Take care of her, Bailey!" he called out to her before taking off towards a group of guys carrying heavy crates of alcohol. He immediately got to work, effortlessly picking up six crates stacked on each other. Both Bailey and I watched him work until he disappeared from our line of sight.
"I like him. He has my approval," she declared.
I gave her a bitter smile. "It's temporary, remember?"
"We'll see about that," she smirked, grabbing my wrist. "Let's go explore and meet some new people before it gets crazy."
She dragged me around to meet all kinds of weird and eccentric people and eventually pulled me out of the weird mood I'd been in.
Vendors, organizers, and performers were in the midst of setting up their booths, stages, and equipment. Tents and stalls were being erected everywhere you looked, and decorations were put up, creating a colorful and visually stunning backdrop. Someone finally managed to get all the huge speakers up because music began pumping in the background, still at an acceptable volume. I'm sure it was going to be deafening tonight.
People were dressed in all kinds of attire, some of them in our team's merch and colors, while others wore the more typical festival wear. Bailey loved seeing all the different outfits, especially the more risqué ones.
After a couple of hours of wandering around and talking to strangers, we started to get hungry. So we bought some hotdogs from one of the vendors and sat down on some grass to eat them.
She then dragged us to a tattoo booth and started discussing temporary tattoo options with the heavily tatted guy doing them. She eventually settled on a tramp stamp above her ass, getting a cute ocean themed tattoo with pearls and seahorses, and I got a row of red mandalas down my nape.
Around one in the afternoon, the festival grounds began to fill up with hundreds of people, gradually increasing as time passed. When the sun started its descent, we headed back to our tents to change. Bailey had meticulously planned and conveniently packed at the top of our luggage. She dressed me in a cute white bodice-corset sundress with small sunflowers all over it. My hair was pinned up in an intricate updo, and she worked her magic on my makeup, finishing with a bold dark red lipstick.
She rocked a cute silver mini dress with a low back, showcasing her temp tattoo. And then she gave herself a smokey eye and nude lip look that looked like it was done by a professional, and not in a tent. We both opted for sneakers, not trusting the festival ground to stay clean and safe for any other kind of shoes.
Once we were ready, we headed towards the most crowded area, expecting to find the guys there. As predicted, they stood in a group, deep in discussion while groups of people, mainly girls, vied for their attention. Tristan, with his arms crossed, listened attentively to another teammate, and looking devastatingly beautiful.
You never forgot how gorgeous he was, but when he stood next to people, it was more noticeable than usual. It was hard to believe he was all mine.
For now, at least.
Sensing my gaze, Tristan's bright green eyes locked onto mine. The shift in his expression, from serious and focused to something darker and hungrier, was subtle but palpable. His gaze explored every detail of my attire and the extra effort I'd put in today, and a smirk formed on his lips. It wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking. Probably the same thing as me.
Very dirty thoughts.
He patted one of the guys on the shoulder, excusing himself, and then made his way toward me. I straightened from my relaxed posture, waiting for him to get to me. When he reached me, I opened my mouth to say something, but all that escaped was a gasp as he bent down, tucked his shoulder against my abdomen, and effortlessly lifted me up onto his shoulder.
"Are you insane!? Put me down!" I squirmed in his hold, placing my hands on his back and using them to lift my upper body just in time to see Bailey wave goodbye at me, grinning.
"Tristan! I'm going to flash everyone in this dress!" I tried reaching behind me to pull the dress over my butt, wiggling my hips.
He simply put a hand over the material on my ass, effectively copping a feel while making sure the dress wouldn't blow up. I groaned in defeat, slumping into his hold. There was no winning with him.
As he carried me off, everyone's eyes followed us. Some girls even glared at me while several guys cheered him on, laughing. I let my head fall so that I wouldn't have to meet any of their eyes.
There went any hopes of keeping our relationship under wraps. I should've anticipated this when getting involved with someone like Tristan. I'd also come to realize that privacy meant two completely different things to both of us. For me, it meant shielding the entirety of our connection from the public. While for him, it meant safeguarding the intimate aspects of our relationship. It made sense, given his fame and lack of privacy. I probably should have been more clear about what I wanted, but oh well, it was too late now, and it wasn't like I was as careful as I could have been. I also didn't mind if all his female fans thought he was taken. It wouldn't stop all of them, but it might make some of them hesitate.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked.
He slapped my ass, making me squirm. "We have an hour before the boys light the fire. I'm going to make the most of that hour by fucking your brains out."
"And you can't wait until tonight?" I huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes.
"Nope." He squeezed my ass cheek, "Saw you in that dress, looking good enough to eat, and couldn't resist the easy access. You should wear them more often. Dresses, skirts — that kind of shit."
"So that it's easier for you to fuck me?"
"Exactly."
"How romantic," I said dryly, eyeing his toned ass as he walked.
"Babe, the things we do aren't even remotely romantic. I'm planning on making you cry so much, your makeup will be running down your face."
I gasped. "You can't ruin Bailey's hard work! She'll kill us!"
"Then I'll die a very happy man."
I groaned in annoyance, but it wasn't real. Already my nipples had beaded, and my body had started to come awake in anticipation of what was about to happen. In fact, I wanted him to speed up so that we could get to our tent sooner.
What had he turned me into?
°•°•°•°
My sister found out I was writing a book while visiting me, and asked if she could read my book, and I laughed. No member of my family will ever read this book. I have a low embarrassment threshold, and I wouldn't be able to handle it. It's almost on the same level as sending your nudes to the family group chat. Do you guys get me?
Happy reading!
Brooke