Page 4

Three

Ford Mustang

A lexa woke up to her sister’s wishes the next morning. She groaned and pulled the covers up to her head as Cassie drew back the curtains and let the morning light into her room.

“Wake up, it’s your birthday!” Cassie shook her.

“I know, and I’d love to sleep in for one more hour.”

Cassie laughed. “When did you return from your midnight date?”

“I don’t remember returning, so I have no idea,” Alexa mumbled sleepily, turning to her side, but not without a tiny smile. “Tristan must’ve tucked me in when I fell asleep.”

“Romantic,” Cassie said in a dramatic tone, just before her hands attacked Alexa’s side with tickles.

Alexa shrieked. “Cassie! I’m not five!”

“I’m well aware you just turned eighteen. We are preparing your favorite breakfast downstairs, and you want to eat it when? At eleven?”

Cassie’s hands stilled, and Alexa exhaled deeply. She rolled back and looked at her sister. “I had no idea Jonny was coming early.”

“Yes, Jonny is making us breakfast and is waiting for the birthday girl to wake up.” Cassie stood and grabbed Alexa by the arms, and hauled her up like a five-year-old.

Alexa didn’t put up a fight. Somehow, the thought of her big brother figure making her birthday breakfast cast away the sleepiness. Cassie drew her into a hug. They stayed like that for a moment before Alexa went to the bathroom to freshen up. She smiled at herself in the mirror, seeing Tristan’s hoodie on her. When she turned to leave, she noticed the bag with her wet clothes sitting next to the door. Her smile widened, and she emptied it into her laundry basket before going downstairs.

Alexa stepped into the kitchen and froze.

That wasn’t John standing at the stove with his back to her.

“Tristan?” She didn’t hide the surprise in her voice.

Tristan turned, his face lighting up as he saw her. He was wearing the dark yellow and black checked shirt they had purchased yesterday, over a black crew-neck tee. There was a kitchen towel on his shoulder, and a spatula in his right hand.

“I know that look.” He smiled crookedly and turned off the stove. Setting the spatula and kitchen towel aside, he walked toward her. “ Tristan doesn’t know the first thing about cooking. Are you sure he didn’t mistake salt for sugar and baking powder for flour? No, love, lucky for you, I’ve been Valero’s assistant for the last two weeks, so I could make you your birthday breakfast.”

Alexa sputtered a laugh at his sarcasm and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please tell me how this birthday can be better than it is already.”

“You’re about to find out.” He winked and pecked a kiss on her lips. “But I do hope you’ll like my pancakes—they’re Valero’s recipe. So, if anything’s wrong with them, we can blame it on him. I know I measured the ingredients correctly.”

“I don’t know…” she mused. “What if Valero gave you the wrong amount of baking powder on purpose?”

“Then I’ll take you and Cassie to your favorite restaurant.” He winked again, his hand rubbing up and down her back.

“There’s no need for that,” said Cassie from behind, entering the kitchen. Alexa turned, and her eyes lit up seeing the presents in her arms—so much for saying she didn’t want anything for her birthday. “I had a sample, and I’m worried my sister’s pancakes have competition.”

“My goodness, Cassie.” Tristan laughed heartily.

Cassie dumped her presents on the dining table, and Alexa immediately knew there was a new addition to her bookshelf. Along with the books, there was the stunning bookmark she’d seen on her Instagram feed and raved to Cassie about, other charming bookish items, and a cute yellow sundress from her mother. Alexa smiled, her heart warm with the realization. Somehow, she’d known her mother would send her a gift this year—especially now that they’d started mending their relationship after her visit with Tristan to her mother’s workplace.

Alexa hugged her sister and then reached for the final present. It was an Easter egg. She gave it a shake and tried to guess what was inside, but nothing she guessed was right. So, she cracked it open, and her smile dropped in shock.

It was a key—with a key fob.

A car key.

“You didn’t!” She looked up at her sister’s smiling face. It was impossible. While their everyday needs were met, Alexa knew she and her sister didn’t make enough to get her a car. Did Cassie discover a secret, rich uncle? Or did their dad have a secret property Alexa didn’t know about that Cassie decided to sell and—

“I didn’t,” Cassie said with a casual shrug, her grin growing. “Did you really think I could afford a car to which that key belongs? He did.” She jerked her chin behind Alexa.

Alexa whirled around to stare at Tristan in mounting disbelief. He had the most humble, loving look in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. She opened and closed her mouth in her attempt to speak, unable to form a response. Dang it, she didn’t know how to respond to such a generous gift from her boyfriend of merely two months, even though he had promised to propose and she couldn’t think of marrying anyone but him.

Tristan understood her struggle. He took her hand. “Come on.”

Alexa followed him out of the kitchen, the car key clutched in her other hand. He opened the front door, and she stepped out onto the porch after him. Her breath hitched as her eyes fell on the flashy car in their driveway.

She followed him blindly across the lawn toward it, each step feeling like she was walking on clouds.

If she knew as much about cars as she thought she did, this was a sports car. But she couldn’t tell anything more.

“Ford Mustang,” Tristan said, as though reading her thoughts. “Latest model. I know you don’t like bright colors, so I picked this one—mischievous purple metallic. But, of course, we can exchange it if you prefer some other color.”

Alexa couldn’t find her voice even as they reached the car. Her hands shook as Tristan encouraged her to unlock it on the key fob. Her heart raced as she deliberately ran her fingers over the smooth exterior.

People who passed by on the street kept glancing at the car and the two of them, but unlike her usual self, who would have acknowledged them, Alexa was too taken aback to even notice them.

“Did you like it?”

Hearing the anxiety in his voice, Alexa forced herself to find her tongue. “Of course…” She turned to him, her eyes wide. “I mean… it’s incredible, b-but, you didn’t have to…”

He sighed. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to, Lexa. I wanted to give you this.”

There was no fight left in her when he said it like that. She sighed and glanced back at the car— her car. It was unbelievable. “But still…”

“Would you have preferred me to give you your old car instead?”

Alexa’s gaze snapped to him. “Wha—of course not!”

He smiled. “I figured as much. Which is why I decided buying you a new one is the best choice. I’ve noticed the solemn look in your eyes every time you get into my car, the way you would look around and try not to sigh loudly. I know that car brings back the memories with your dad, and I wanted to… I wanted to do something about it. A car you would remember me by and make you smile every time you get in.”

“I don’t need a car to remember you by, Tristan.” She touched a hand to his cheek. “But, I had no idea you noticed that.”

“When it comes to you, there is nothing I don’t notice.” He stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “So, you like my surprise?”

She wrapped her arms around him. “I love it.”

“And the color?”

“It’s perfect.” She grinned up at him. “Even if you had picked a bright color—”

“There’s no way I would have,” he interjected with a smug smile. “Come on, give me some credit. I know all of your preferences.”

Alexa chuckled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You know all of my preferences. There. Take credit.”

“Thank you, darling.” Tristan squeezed her playfully. “Do you want to take it for a spin after breakfast?”

“I would love to.”

“Perfect, because Valero promised a birthday lunch, and I’m taking you and Cassie to my house after that.”

After eating Tristan’s surprisingly delicious pancakes, Alexa went upstairs to get ready. She opened her phone to thank her mom for the sundress and saw that there were several missed calls from Daphne. Alexa called her back.

Daphne complained playfully that Alexa no longer needed her best friend’s birthday wishes now that she had a loving boyfriend, but she promised to drop by in the evening with a cake.

Alexa put on the yellow sundress, applied light makeup, and curled her straight, red-streaked hair into waves before she went downstairs to Tristan. Cassie joined them while they were commenting on their matching dress code.

Tristan opened the driver’s door for Alexa as they reached her new car, and she slid inside, her hands trembling as she gripped the wheel. The car smelled new, the leather interior pristine. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Tristan got in on the passenger side, and Cassie took the backseat.

Alexa started the engine, and the car roared to life, a powerful purr that sent a thrill down her spine. She slowly eased the car out of the driveway and onto the street. It responded smoothly to her touch, and soon she was driving confidently through the neighborhood.

She couldn’t stop smiling, and her heart swelled with love for the incredible boy beside her.

As she drove them out of the neighborhood, Tristan reached over and took her hand, interlocking their fingers. One Direction played on the radio, and Alexa and Cassie sang along to their favorites. After a while, she pulled into a rest stop and urged Tristan and Cassie to take turns driving.

Eventually, as lunchtime neared, Tristan drove them to his house. He parked the car next to his and his dad’s in the driveway. When they entered the house, Alexa found herself wrapped in a hug from Albert.

“Happy birthday, Alexa! I heard you and Trist had a midnight date on our rooftop.”

“You heard ? Didn’t Tristan tell you?” She glanced back at Tristan and saw him roll his eyes at the ceiling.

Albert chuckled. “Of course, where do you think he got all the ideas from?”

“I’ll take the credit myself, Dad, thanks. You only suggested I use our rooftop.”

Albert cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and looked at Alexa and Cassie as though he was going to tell them a secret, then whispered loudly, “My son is exceptionally greedy when it comes to Alexa.”

Tristan gave a self-satisfied shrug.

Albert directed them to the kitchen after he greeted Cassie with a hug as well. A mouthwatering aroma filled the air, and the Knights’ Italian cook, Valero, wished Alexa a happy birthday . They sat around the table, and he served them fettuccine Alfredo with garlic bread and a side salad, and grilled chicken breasts with roasted vegetables and quinoa.

For dessert, Alexa found all her favorite ice cream flavors and couldn’t help but grin. Sneaking a peek at Tristan, who volunteered to serve the dessert, she saw him trying to hide a smile and confirmed this was all his idea.

He held her hand on his lap as they all chatted away. After they finished their dessert, he leaned toward her. “I have something for you upstairs.”

Alexa gave him an incredulous look. Refraining from commenting right then, she nodded, and Tristan announced to the table that they’d be back in a moment.

“I’m officially the most spoiled birthday girl to ever exist, you realize that, right?” Alexa teased as they walked out of the kitchen.

He shot her a crooked grin. “What can I say, I can’t help it.”

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“And now I’m officially flattered.”

She laughed.

Tristan led her upstairs and toward the house library. Just as she wondered if her next surprise was in there, he turned them down the hallway toward the single room at the end.

One he had told her, during their first tour, was a store-room but hadn’t opened.

“I’m officially curious,” she said as they neared the closed door. “My surprise is in the store room?”

Tristan rested his free hand on the handle and turned to her, suddenly looking nervous. “I kind of lied when I said this was a storeroom,” he began. “It is sort of a storeroom, but it’s actually my—well, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a few months, so, Alexandra Ford, I welcome you to my art studio.”

He pushed open the door, and the scent of paint and turpentine wafted toward her. Alexa gaped into the darkness. She could barely see anything. It seemed like every window was closed with curtains drawn and every light off. The perfect preparation for a surprise.

“You have an art studio,” she marveled. “Wow.”

Tristan stepped behind her. “Close your eyes,” he crooned, his warm breath brushing her skin and sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

Oh, she loved it every time he said those three words and led her into a mystery.

Alexa obliged and let Tristan guide her into the dark room. She heard him close the door behind them and, from the light that hit her closed eyelids, realized that he’d flicked on the lights.

Her anticipation grew. “Can I open them now?”

“One moment.” He led her further into the room before dropping his hands. “Alright, you can look now.”

Alexa opened her eyes slowly to the dim yellow light. Her eyes landed on Tristan, who watched her with an anticipated smile, hands in his pockets, before flicking to her left. She gasped.

There, lining the wall, were paintings of her.

Alexa whirled around to her left and saw the same. It felt like she was in an art gallery, only the paintings were of her.

“You drew me?” she whispered, unable to believe her eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

She turned back to the paintings. Each one featured her in different activities.

In one, she was at school, leaning sideways against a locker and looking to the side, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, hugging some books to her chest, and the strap of her bag on her shoulder. In the next, she was singing on a stage, wearing a black dress, her hair down in waves, and the surroundings slightly blurred to make her stand out. The other was a close-up portrait of her—her face tipped up, eyes closed with a soft smile on her lips, and the wind playing with her hair. Then there was one where she was leaning over the balcony railing at night in her pajamas, looking up at the sky…

Her eyes trailed over painting after painting, stopping on one that particularly stole her breath.

She was on her bed in this one, sleeping under the covers with a contented look on her face. Her hand was held by a boy in a black hoodie, sitting next to her and watching her, with an unreadable look on his face, which was in profile.

“My favorite,” Tristan murmured from behind. “Because it’s not just a painting or a dream; it’s a treasured memory.”

Alexa turned to him. “Memory?”

Tristan nodded solemnly, meeting her eyes. “One I haven’t told you yet but have been saving for this moment.”

Alexa glanced back at the painting. He’d told her he never intruded on her privacy, but this painting showed that he was in her room—when she was sleeping. And now that she looked closer at it, it wasn’t him who held her hand.

She was holding his.

Like he was her lifeline. Her gravity.

Alexa pivoted to Tristan. “Tell me.”

* * *

Tristan knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He knew this wasn’t right, but he couldn’t help it.

Alexandra Ford filled his mind in every waking moment; from then until he went to sleep. But then again, she filled even his dreams.

Sometimes, it felt like she was part of his life like a permanent fixture and not his hopeless dream. That much time he’d spent shadowing her footsteps.

Even that was an understatement since she couldn’t even see his shadow.

She didn’t know he existed.

Tristan pressed his palm against the glass door of her balcony. It was dark, the only light illuminating her room being the moonlight streaming in through her windows. But Tristan didn’t need a light with his excellent night vision.

It was nearing midnight. Windy, chilly, and dark; none of which bothered Tristan in the slightest. His eyes were fixed on the sleeping form of the girl in the bed.

Alexa.

His heart beat fast all over the place. His insides felt fluttery and set on fire at the same time. Tristan didn’t know what was happening to him. He was definitely going insane. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to stay away.

One of the reasons was that he was attracted to her. The other, the one he was trying to fool himself into believing this was mostly about, was that she seemed lonely—even with her sister, her boyfriend, and her best friend around.

Tristan was keeping her silent company, always there when she rambled and complained to the air about her sorrows or when she simply curled up in a ball and cried.

How many times he had been tempted to throw caution into the air and hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her long hair, whisper in her ear that he was there for her, and kiss her worries away? And of course, each time the thought of kissing her crossed his mind, he chided himself.

For goodness’ sake, she had a boyfriend.

Tristan clenched his hands into fists at the thought of her boyfriend. That boy was a poor excuse for a boyfriend. Selfish, spoiled brat. He had the nerve to call the first month after her dad’s departure a ‘mourning month’ and ask her to go on a date with him. With no care in the world for her feelings, only his own. Anyone with eyes could see she wasn’t ready for any of that, and each time he forced himself upon her with a kiss, Tristan barely held himself back from tearing him off of her and throwing a punch to his face.

Therefore, Tristan had taken it upon himself to be there for her as silently and invisibly as he could be.

She had made his life seem easier for the first time in twenty-one years just by existing, and he would return the favor by being there for her as a guardian angel, ready to jump in when she needed him.

Little did he know, this was that day.

Tristan was about to teleport back to his room when, suddenly, he heard her whine. He froze and looked at her sleeping form. She whined again, just before a small cry escaped her.

His heart raced in alarm, and he pressed closer to the door. Was she having a nightmare?

Confirming his thoughts, he heard her mumble, “Dad!”

Tristan rested his forehead against the cool glass helplessly. No matter what he did, he had sworn to himself that he would never intrude on her personal space or invade her privacy. Thus, he had never set foot in her bedroom, despite so many temptations after watching her cry before.

“Don’t—Daddy—Please…” she mumbled. “Don’t leave me.”

Tristan heaved a deep sigh that sounded like a painful grunt. This was torture, just like every other time he had watched her cry. But he wouldn’t leave, just like he never did. He had been her silent companion and he would continue to be—until she no longer needed him.

“Come back, Daddy, no …” She was sobbing now.

He turned his face away. Her crying consciously was one thing, but crying in her sleep from a nightmare…

Tristan listened in on her sister’s room, hoping that if she was awake and heard Alexa, she would come and comfort her. But when he heard Cassie’s even breaths, his heart dropped.

How long would Alexa have to endure her nightmare and cry, and wake up in the morning feeling more lifeless than ever? In the days he’d been watching over her, she had never once cried in her sleep. Nightmares? She probably had them, but she’d never cried before.

“Dad!” Her voice pulled his focus back to her. “Daddy, no. No, no, no—don’t leave! Please , don’t go…”

Her sobs increased, and she began to thrash and turn.

Tristan didn’t know what came over him next. One moment, he was standing outside the door with a breaking heart, and the next he was inside her room for the first time. Alarm bells went off in his mind, but he didn’t care.

There was only one thing on his mind now. Alexa. Nothing would hold him back this one time. He threw caution to the air and hurried toward her side.

All thoughts must’ve left his mind, because the moment he reached her, he grabbed her thrashing hands.

Alexa stilled. So did Tristan’s heart.

He had only dreamed of touching her. And goodness, it felt incredible. Undeniable warmth, mingled with electric waves, slithered its way to his chest.

He was holding her hand—and she had stopped thrashing.

“Dad?”

If she woke up, this was done. So done. He hoped, for her sake, she wouldn’t. Her eyes were closed, so Tristan realized she was still deep in sleep.

He would pretend he was her dad if it would help her calm down. Dang it, he felt like he would do anything for this girl. What had she done to him?

“Yes,” he said, and in a more gentle voice, “I’m here, angel.”

Her hands held onto his tightly. “Dad?”

“I’m here, angel,” he repeated. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and in case she opened her eyes, he double-checked that he was still invisible. He sighed. “I won’t leave you. I will never leave you. I will always be here. With you. Just… invisible.”

Alexa relaxed even more, and a strange desire overwhelmed Tristan at his last words.

What if he didn’t have to be invisible in her life? What if he could be in her life?

He chided himself instantly. No, inserting himself into her life would endanger her. This was dangerous enough. If he truly cared for her, he would just keep looking after her from the shadows. And he did care for her, more than he wanted to admit to himself, so he began to free his hands from her hold.

But her hands tightened around his. And if that wasn’t enough, she drew one of his hands to her chest and hugged it. “Don’t leave,” she mumbled, just barely, before her breathing evened out.

Tristan looked from her face to his hand, thunderstruck. She snuggled to the side, holding his hand closer, with a contented expression on her beautiful face. He felt her sweet warmth and the calming beats of her heart against the back of his hand.

Crazy things happened inside him the longer he stared at her, unblinking and unmoving. Eventually, he sank into the bed. He reached his other hand to her face hesitantly and brushed a knuckle against her soft cheek. He did this again and again, unable to resist himself from touching her. A somewhat smile eased onto her face, and his heart flared to life.

Did he just make her smile in her sleep?

Then he realized that she thought he was her dad. He sighed and withdrew his hand.

“I want you to know, Alexa, that I’m not your dad,” he whispered. “But I’m willing to pretend to be anyone for you if it makes you happy. I’m just… someone you’d probably never know. I’m your guardian angel and your knight in shining armor, and I will always be here for you. As long as you need me, that is. Thank you for letting me be here for you tonight.” His breath hitched for some strange reason, emotion spiraling inside him. “Thank you for this moment that you will likely never remember, but I will treasure it as long as I live. This is a dream come true.”

He stopped with a small, solemn smile.

He slowly began to ease his hand from her hold, but her hands tightened again. For someone who was sleeping, she was quite strong. He tried again, but she did the same. Almost possessively.

He heard what she wasn’t saying. Don’t leave.

Tristan exhaled, the feelings inside him now a tangled mess. What was she doing to him? Because dang it, he didn’t want to leave either. And he wanted to be in her life, visibly.

He wanted to be seen by her. For her hazel eyes to look into his electric blue ones. For her to smile at him. For her to say his name.

How would his name sound on her lips?

Suddenly, he yearned for all that. He had only so much self-control. One day it was going to break.

Tristan didn’t know how long he sat there. Minutes? Hours? He watched her intently, committing the moment to his memory. He might not get a chance like this again. And to preserve it while it was fresh, he would paint it.

Eventually, or hours later, Alexa finally released his hand as she turned to the other side. The contented look was still on her face. Tristan stood slowly, his eyes never leaving her, and forced himself to teleport back to his room.

A strange feeling took over him like he had left something behind. Tristan rubbed a hand over his chest; it came from in there. Then he realized it.

He had lost his heart. He had left it in Alexa’s hands.