I about choked on my tongue at that one. No promises. Neither of us could make a promise. For some reason it reminded me of the games Taylor used to play with me, the twisted ones that ended up hurting other people and me in the process. I’d always been powerless against them, it was a reminder of my old life, a reminder I didn’t need in an abandoned parking lot. I shivered. “Fine, no promises.”
“And finally…” Tristan leaned forward his body towering over mine. “…to keep things interesting… absolutely no touching.”
With that, he walked past me and into the house, leaving my body hot, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my mind whirling as to what the heck he had planned other than a mean game of checkers.
Against my better judgment, I followed him into the dark house and shut the door behind me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Take a pill — feel better. Take a pill — feel worse. Take a pill — feel nothing at all. Regardless of the pill, you take it to gain some sort of reaction. In a way, the website was like another type of pill for me. It gave me the reaction I needed to keep going… until one day, it just didn’t. That was the day things fell into place for me, when the plan was finally set in motion, the stopwatch clicked on, and I finally felt at peace. –The Journal of Taylor B
Tristan
THE HOUSE WAS completely dark. All I could see was the outline of the path to the kitchen, and only because the blinds hadn’t been pulled. The door shut softly behind me.
I knew it was Lisa, knew that she had followed me, not knowing what I had planned for her went for longer than just one night, but several nights. Because I’d already decided with my own sick justification to have her, even if she wasn’t mine to have, even if he’d had her first, even if he’d destroyed a part of her I’d probably never be able to get back.
The room was so charged with sexual tension it was almost hard to breathe, and when she stepped up behind me, her clothes brushed my back. I almost slammed her against the wall and just said screw it. It’s not like my moral compass had been actually working as of late. And she woke up something primal in me, something that I hadn’t ever felt. I think I despised it as much as I craved it.
Sighing, I hung my head and let the seconds of charged silence trickle by.
“It won’t be easy,” I whispered. “Letting you in.”
“It won’t be easy,” she repeated. “Keeping you out.”
With a smile, I turned and looked down at her wide blue eyes, the same eyes that had seen tragedy at his hands. Pain, ruin, shame. The only thing I could do was be the exact opposite of what he’d been to her.
But it meant fighting against every urge I had to selfishly take what I wanted and leave come Christmas.
If I did that, I’d be just like him, and I wanted to be different. It was so tempting to burn that damn journal. To throw away my past, to live the lie, to make it so she never discovered the truth. Hadn’t I lived my entire adult life in that way? Right along with my parents?
What was one more dirty secret between lovers? Friends? Enemies?
Maybe if she let me in, she’d divulge the information I needed anyway. It was always the fear that kept me pursuing the truth. The fear that I would end up like him; the fear that, in some ways I was him. The Jekyll to his Hyde.
“So, this rule…” Lisa folded her arms in front of her and leaned forward. “…does it apply to objects?”
“For not being such a rule follower you sure are eager to learn what they are,” I said smugly.
“For being such a controlling tight ass you sure don’t seem to be in a rush to explain them.”
I smirked. “You think my ass is tight?”
“No.” She swallowed and looked down.
“Denial’s so sexy…” I teased. “It’s okay to look all you want, Lisa. You just can’t touch, remember? A night of being anonymous… a night where it’s just you and me. But technically, we’re strangers and things…” I leaned in so close I could almost taste her. “…are about to get very intimate.” Taking a step back, I lifted my shirt over my head and threw it on to the ground then turned away from her and slowly slid out of my jeans. At her gasp, I made my way over to the fridge where I knew I’d find some chilled wine and pulled it out. I placed two glasses on the counter, then I turned to face her.
Her eyes were wide. I loved that look on her face, the desire evident in her heavy breathing. So I did what any logical man would do: I poured us two glasses of wine, brought her one, and whispered, “Strip.”
She reared back as if I’d just asked her to jump into the Sound naked. Then her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she took off her shirt followed by her jeans. I tried not to appear aroused, but the woman had hands-down the sexiest body I’d ever seen in my entire life. Blood roared in my ears as she finally faced me in nothing but a lacy black bra and fire engine panties with the words Selfie, on them.
“I wish,” I murmured looking down, arching my eyebrows.
It was too dark to see if she was blushing, and honestly, if she were, I would be shocked. After reading some of the things in that diary of Taylor’s, it was hard imagining her blushing or getting embarrassed.
“Let’s go.” I nodded toward the fireplace and carried the wine bottle with me.
She followed, not speaking.
I flipped the switch on the fireplace, causing it to roar to life, then grabbed a few blankets from the couch and positioned them on the floor. I carefully wrapped one around her, careful not to touch her, and then sat down next to her.
“I’m confused,” she said. “I thought—”
“You thought a night of being anonymous meant moonlight and masks…” I interrupted with a shrug. “But being anonymous is so much more than that. Clothes have a way of masking us, defining us, making us appear sheltered, unequal, depending on where it was bought. Tonight, you’re in your most vulnerable state, next to being naked, with an almost-complete stranger. We’re going to be intimate without touching, but only with each other, and when the night ends, we’ll go our separate ways with no regrets.”
“Because we didn’t sleep together?”
“Because regardless of how naked you get, Lisa, your shield will always be up until you choose to take it down. Sleeping around, partying, drinking — they’re all forms of protecting yourself. It’s not freedom. You are never your most vulnerable until you’ve removed every lens you allow people to see you through. Some have one. Others have several.”