Samantha frowned. “He trusts me.”
The server scoffed. “Trust only takes you so far—”
Samantha had enough. She looked the server dead in the eye, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Can we have two coffees please? With cream?”
The girl must have taken the hint, because she cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes as she stood from the table. She straightened her pinafore, picked up her tablet from where she had laid it on the table, then scribbled down a few notes. “Anything else?” she asked begrudgingly.
“No,” Samantha uttered. “That will be all.”
But as soon as the server walked through the double doors to the back room, Samantha found herself looking for Tristan again through the window. He was still standing at the pump talking on the phone, his other hand in his pocket, and his eyes were locked right on her. He waved, sending goose bumps and tingles loose throughout her entire body. She glanced back at the menu again, realizing she hadn’t felt this way in six years. Not since she was sixteen years old, and she sat too close to her best friend’s brother.
God save her soul.
Chapter Fourteen
Six years earlier
Familiar faces filled the downstairs great room in the Montgomerys’ home. Just like they had nearly every other weekend before Tristan went off to college. It was like a reunion of sorts. The past year’s senior football team, now mixed with new faces. Some from Samantha’s class, and some the year ahead, all laughing, and flirting, and messing around.
Samantha sat at the bar with Renee and a boy from their biology class. But all she could think about was how Tristan had stared at her all throughout dinner. Not really stared, but she caught him looking a time or two. When she was buttering her roll, she caught him. And again, when she’d glanced up to look for the saltshaker. Honestly, it sent tiny butterflies loose all throughout her belly. But at the same time, it made her think about their kiss. The kiss she still hadn’t told Renee about.
The kiss that had the potential to ruin their friendship.
She tried to push the thoughts away, but the more time she spent, the more it became impossible. In fact, she found herself watching him now. Witnessing the cocky grin as he passed one of his teammates and headed for the garage.
Her heart began to thud in her chest. Because now was her chance. To talk to him. To make sure everything was cool, so he would never say anything to Renee. As she swiveled in her chair, her heart felt like it was about to explode, but she stood up and pushed through the crowd of people as quickly as she could. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, heading for the hall with sweaty hands. She wiped them over her jeans, then reached for the garage door. It came swinging toward her, nearly knocking her flat. She stumbled backward, almost knocking against the wall behind her, but Tristan caught her by the wrist. He yanked her forward, his other hand catching her at the waist to hold her steady—and his bright blue eyes bore into hers.
Her heart stopped beating.
Not because of the fear of a fall, or because they were alone for the first time since their kiss. It was because of the way he held her. His hand touching the sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, so large in comparison to her own. It was almost as if they were dancing.
She licked her lips, knowing she should pull away, but she couldn’t. By now, she was more experienced than she had been last summer. Having been kissed and touched more times than she could count…but it was different with Tristan. She couldn’t help but notice that. Like a sort of electric current pulsing under her skin and making her all senses wake up. She didn’t want it to end. She craved it. Like a drug so addictive it scared the crap out of her.
She opened her mouth to speak, to say what she came to say, but all the words were stuck at the back of her throat. It was as though her body was holding them captive, knowing that if it let them out, this moment would end. So she stood there, the silence almost like a bandage, clouding the memory of him pressing that girl against the table. Healing all the hurts she’d denied for so long.
Someone called her name from afar, and she looked up in time to see Steven round the corner from the living room.
“Oh hey,” he said. But his expression instantly changed. From happy to surprised, then confused.
Samantha stepped away, tucking her hair behind her ear with nervous fingers. “I um—was just going to get a drink,” she gestured a hand to Tristan, knocking into one of Mrs. Montgomery’s vases on the table. She paused to take a breath, straightening the vase before it fell, thankful for the excuse to look at anything beside the two men in front of her.
“You remember Renee’s brother?” Samantha asked, after too much silence. “He’s visiting from college.”
Steven held out his hand to Tristan, completely oblivious and composed—as though he hadn’t been witness to their compromising position a moment earlier. “Steven Mathers,” he said. “Samantha’s boyfriend.” They shook hands, then Steven looked down to Tristan’s walking boot and frowned. “I think I remember you from West Valley. Quarterback, right?”
Tristan glanced over at Samantha, but only for a second. “Yeah, I think I remember you.”
Steven nodded, backing away, and grabbed hold of Samantha’s hand. Not hard, but in a way that showed possession. “You’re visiting?” he asked, drawing out the last word with a note of suspicion.
“Yep. Just for the weekend.”
Samantha searched for something to say, anything at all that would make things any less awkward, but she couldn’t think of anything. Because all she could think about was how a brief touch from Tristan had sent heat through her whole body, but now, holding Steven’s hand, all she felt was the slight perspiration that glued their hands together.
Steven carried on about his grandparents, and how everyone had fallen asleep while watching Downton Abbey. Tristan listened to every word. Laughing at the appropriate times, even nodding and commenting when appropriate, but he never looked at Samantha again.
She grew increasingly nervous, because she had found herself standing beside the only two men she’d ever kissed. But only one knew about the other, and she was determined to keep it that way. Finally, she glanced up and realized too late that she’d been blocking Tristan’s exit.
She moved out of the way, stumbling over a lame apology as Tristan hobbled his way down the hall to join his friends. But before he left, he flashed Steven one of his genuine smiles. The one he gave to everyone, that made girls fall in love with him, and guys want to be his best friend.
That’s when she realized she was just another victim. Another girl caught under the spell of Tristan Montgomery…and she was kidding herself for thinking anything they’d done together meant anything to him. Kidding herself to think whatever they’d done meant enough to tell Renee about.
Samantha went out to the garage, needing air. Steven followed closely behind her, where she found a grape flavored Fanta on the top shelf of the fridge and cracked it open. She took a long sip, contemplating how remarkably unaffected Tristan could be, when she was practically shaking.
She closed her eyes again as Steven wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You okay?”
She focused on the bubbles rushing down her throat from her soda and nodded her head. Because she didn’t trust her voice to speak. Because after all these months of worry, she finally realized she didn’t need to think about Tristan anymore. As far as she could tell, everything she felt that night in the woods was completely one sided. And he wasn’t going to tell a soul.
Present day
Tristan came into the building, bringing the wind and his large, dominating presence with him. He was impossible to ignore, and Samantha found herself looking up, seeing the same face from all those years ago. He began to walk toward her, and for some reason the tiny wild horses ran hard across her chest again. Maybe because of their past, or maybe because of all the things the server had said that Samantha couldn’t quite deny. But there was a part of her that knew it was more than that. More than words or glances. Because being around Tristan again had awakened something vulnerable inside her. Something she’d been repressing for a long time.