Page 19

I walked up to the house that Tristan had sent me the address to the next day, holding my breath as I looked around, a bottle of wine in one hand despite the fact that I was nearly certain that it made me the cheesiest date on the face of the planet.

Tristan lived in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of town, one where the houses were a lot bigger and older, and were wildly varying in terms of upkeep.

Some of the houses that I'd passed looked like they'd been restored until they would go for multiple millions of dollars on the current market; others looked like they were just about ready to be condemned, and I desperately hoped that they were just as abandoned on the inside as they looked on the outside.

Tristan's house was in the middle, a two-story ranch style with a big, maintained front yard and bright yellow flowers bursting to life from flower beds in front of the porch.

That made me smile when I saw them; Tristan didn't strike me as the type to enjoy gardening.

It was a surprise that only made me like him more.

I took a deep breath as I walked up to the front door, glancing up and down the street before lifting my fist to knock once, twice.

A moment passed, and then there were footsteps on the other side, and Tristan's face was bright with a smile when he pulled the door open.

"Xan.

You came."

He sounded a little breathless, his eyes happy, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as he stepped to the side and let me walk past him into the house.

"Was that ever in question?" I turned on my heel and held out the bottle of wine, smiling a little when his eyes widened with surprise.

"You didn't have to do that." He took the bottle from me, offering me a smile that was shyer and cuter than any that he'd sent my way so far, and I felt my fucking heart flutter at the sight of it.

"And yeah, a little.

You could have decided that this...is too much.

You could have had an accident.

You could have been called to the studio."

He rattled off the various reasons how and why I might have stood up our date, and something inside of me settled at the realization that Tristan was just as nervous about this as I was.

"Well, I didn't.

Decide that." My cheeks warmed a little as he cocked his head to the side, and I swallowed, deciding to go for it.

"I...thought about it.

Being too much with work."

His shoulders slumped a little, but his eyes stayed hopeful.

"But...you're here."

I nodded, taking a little stop closer to him, narrowing the distance between our bodies.

"I'm here, Tris."

I lay one hand on his chest and smiled up at him, and his eyes fell to my lips, a spark of heat lighting inside of them.

Suddenly the air was crackling with electricity between us, and a tiny voice at the back of my head - the horny, utterly slutty and unreliable voice - whispered that we didn't have to have dinner and do the "getting to you know you" part of the date.

We were in his house, alone.

I could just ask him...to show me the bedroom.

I swallowed and shoved the urge down, stepping away after a moment.

As tempting as it was, I already knew that Tristan and I had sexual chemistry.

That was the whole point of all of this, to find out if we had any emotional chemistry.

I knew what my heart said, but we needed the proof.

God, I wanted the proof.

"Good.

That's...really fucking good, Xan," Tristan finally said quietly, his voice a little throaty and rough.

It made me smile, hearing the way that he was so obviously affected by me, and then he reached for my hand and linked our fingers together before leading me away from the front door.

"I'm making ziti, I hope you like Italian."

The feeling of Tristan's hand, warm and solid in mine as our fingers laced together, was enough to make my traitorous heart thump unevenly all over again.

I knew that I was staring at Tristan with stars in my eyes as he gently nudged me to sit in one of the stools that was tucked neatly beneath the bar, before lifting my hand to brush his lips against the knuckles and then setting it down.

He followed up that swoon-worthy gesture with a wink, and then he returned to the saucepan on the stove that was full of gently bubbling tomato sauce, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring.

We're here for a first date, I had to remind my heart, telling it to calm the fuck down.

We are here for a first fucking date.

We are not going to do something stupid like falling in love with him right now.

That is not happening.

We are going to get to know each other...and just see what happens, I guess.

The problem with hearts is that they're unreliable, and I could already tell that it was going to be hard to convince myself to take it slow with this beautiful, perfect man.

Tristan

It took everything inside of me to continue cooking like normal, pretending like I didn't feel the warm weight of Xander's eyes on the back of my neck the entire time I finished cooking the pasta and sauce, throwing it together in the dish, and then putting it in the oven so that it could finish baking.

I just...didn't think.

About how nice it would be to have him in my house with me, watching me.

I was a solitary creature.

Even before my work-induced run of emotional celibacy, I rarely brought guys back to my house.

We never got to the kind of trust that we needed for me to ask them to be in my space.

But with Xander, it was easy.

It was so fucking easy, and it didn't even matter that we barely talked.

Chatted about the weather a little, about my neighborhood.

I snorted when Xander mentioned offhand that he hoped that the house at the end of the street was abandoned, because it "wasn't fit for the kittens that he found under the porch when he was thirteen."

Thankfully, the house was abandoned, condemned by the city and waiting for demolition.

Xander snickered when I informed him as such, his *color* eyes fond as he looked at me, his chin propped up in the palm of one hand.

When the ziti was done baking, though, and we sat down at my little dining table with heaped plates, the atmosphere between the two of us changed again.

"So..." Xander stabbed at a noodle with his fork, twirling it around in the sauce before he forked it into his mouth.

His eyes popped open, and then he let out a soft moan as he chewed, whatever he'd been planning on saying clearly fading from his mind.

I couldn't stop myself from smirking; I wasn't a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but I did pasta and red sauce well.

I'd pulled out all the stops for Xan.

"Holy fuck, that's fantastic." Xander's eyes open and he grinned at me, taking another bite and letting out another happy sound that my cock did not understand was not for him.

"I'm glad you like it." I took a bite myself, then prompted, "What were you going to say?"

He blinked, his brows pulling together with confusion for a moment before his eyes cleared and he nodded.

"Right.

Um." His cheeks pinked a little, a reaction that I found stupidly endearing.

"Well...I guess I just wanted to ask.

Why...um..."

He gestured between the two of us with his fork, and it took a moment before I understood, but then I chuckled.

"Why I asked you out?"

He nodded, stabbing at his pasta some more and shoveling a bite in his mouth.

Probably to keep himself from saying something that he thought was stupid.

Fuck, he's so cute.

"Because I like you," I said simply, setting my fork down.

I wanted to give this my full attention; Xander had asked an important question.

"I like you a lot.

I think you're fucking gorgeous and sexy as sin, but...I think you're funny, too.

I like the way your nose wrinkles when you're embarrassed. I like that you and your twin brother are close, and that you know that you can call me for help if you need it. Any kind of help."

I couldn't stop myself from winking, and his cheeks pinked even further as he swallowed.

"I like you too," he finally said, his voice low and husky.

"I just..."

I reached forward and lay my finger on his mouth, biting down a near-feral sound at the feeling of his soft lips under my finger.

"I get it," I assured him.

"Really, I do.

Ask any of the guys around the studio, and they'll tell you that I'm the king of Emotionally Unavailable.

You're the first person that I've brought back to my house in a really fucking long time." I lowered my finger, and his eyes were huge as I finished, "You're special, Xan. I want to see what we have. If we have anything."

I placed emphasis on the word 'if' because I wanted him to know that no matter what, there was never any pressure from me.

He was free to stand up and walk out of my house right here and now if he wanted to, and we would still be able to go forward at work as coworkers and friends, even if my heart would be a little crushed from his rejection.

Not enough to tell Cole that I couldn't work with him anymore, of course.

I didn't have that much self respect.

Thankfully, Xander's expression softened, and he nodded.

"I think we do," he said quietly, looking up at me with so much vulnerability in his eyes.

I swallowed, and reached out to gently touch his wrist.

"I do too," I said, injecting every bit of sincerity that I felt.

"Let's see what it's about?"

He nodded, I let out a heavy sigh as I picked up my fork, and the conversation turned to lighter subjects.

We talked about high school crushes and college picks, stupid jobs that we'd hated and wanted to quit right away, his brother and the relationship he had with his parents.

Mine were too far away for us to be especially close, so I didn't have much to contribute to that conversation, but I loved seeing the way that his entire demeanor relaxed a little when he spoke about his brother and the rest of his family.

They were clearly close, though I'd already picked up on that.

We talked about ex-boyfriends, and Xan thankfully didn't ask many questions about my sparse history there, as well.

He told me about a prank battle that he and Ethan had gotten into the summer before they both went off to college, and the time that he'd nearly spent a night in jail because he'd been flirting a little too aggressively with a cop who was checking on the bar's liquor license and he had forgotten his ID at home.

Conversation with Xander...it just flowed.

It was easy as fuck to sink into the topic and listen to him wax eloquent.

He had an opinion about everything, and given that I found myself pretty apathetic about most things, no matter what they were...Xander's enthusiasm for life was refreshing.

I wanted it around all the fucking time.

By the time we finished eating dinner, I knew that the polite thing would be for me to tell him that I had a great time and that I wanted to do this again.

I could walk him to the door and offer him a very sweet and polite smile on his lips, a peck really, and then text him to make sure that he went home safe.

That would be the polite thing to do.

But I didn't want him to leave, not yet.

It felt like he was settling in, the longer he was around, and I wanted to relish that feeling for as long as he would let me.

So instead of telling him that we should be wrapping things up, I asked, my voice raspy, "Do you have anywhere that you need to be for the rest of the night?"

Xander's eyes darkened a little as he looked at me, his tongue swiping out along his lower lip to wet it before he shoot his head.

"I'm all yours," he said, his voice equally rough.

Damn straight you are, baby boy.

I didn't say that aloud, of course.

Instead I nodded, then gathered both of our empty plates before taking them over to the sink and dropping them in - I would rinse them off later - before turning back to Xan and walking over.

I held my hand out to him, my stomach flipping a little when his eyes widened with hope.

"Want to watch a movie? We could open the bottle of wine that you brought and I completely forgot about."

I offered a roguish wink, and he rolled his eyes, his shoulders relaxing a little as he took my hand and stood.

"Yeah, Tris," he said, his voice soft and meaningful, if a little strangled.

"Let's watch a movie."