Page 5 of Their Little House Tristan (Five Little Roommates #2)

Bellamy

“I like playing blocks. Do you?”

The question stunned me. I loved Chained, but it wasn’t often I came with another little. Especially one as handsome as this one. If I did play with the others, I either never saw them again, or they didn’t play with me a second time. I tried not to take it personally, but sometimes, I couldn’t help it. It felt like I had the plague and there was no cure.

This was different. This one lived with me. That didn’t have me worrying about it ending like the rest, though.

Once I thought it was my outfit, so I changed to another pair of soft overalls, but that didn’t help. I tried to put myself out there, introducing myself when I arrived, but again, I had to play alone all night.

Playing alone was the pits.

Sure, it was fun to have the daddies watch me play but I wanted friends. Someone to talk to and have a good time with.

“I love blocks.”

He smiled and sat across the pale-blue table from me. “Do you like the big blocks or the little ones?”

I studied both block bins. I knew which one was my favorite but didn’t want to make a choice that would alienate me again. I questioned everything when this was the side of me that was supposed to be free and easy.

Then again, I had to be myself. Masking was hard. But he’d been very nice at the Little House, so I could try.

“I like the big blocks. The little ones hurt the tips of my fingers when I try to pry them apart.”

Tristan flashed a bright, toothy smile. “Me too. One time, I even pinched my skin in between two. It hurt and made my fingers hurt for a few days.”

“Ouch. I’ve done that too. But the big blocks slide together easier. Plus, I like the colors better.”

We decided on building a castle. I worried the whole build about if he was one of those people who liked to destroy a creation with a swat of his hand or if he was more like me and took it apart one piece at a time.

I preferred calm and quiet play. I liked to take my time. My life was hustle and fast-paced and I liked this part of my life to be the opposite.

“That’s a great castle,” Tristan said and moved around on his knees, looking at our masterpiece from all angles.

“It is. We did a great job.”

Instead of going back to the side of the table where he had been, Tristan sat next to me. His thigh and knee were pressed against mine but he didn’t seem to mind. I certainly didn’t mind.

Tristan was cute. He was kind and smiled at me a few times when we reached for the same piece at the same time or went to put a block in the same spot.

“There are a lot of daddies here tonight.” When I went to look, he grabbed my hand. “Don’t look.” He giggled and blushed. Oh, my. There must’ve been a daddy who got his attention already. That blush was one for the books.

“I have to look. How else will I know?”

He sighed. “Let’s take the castle down and make a great big tower. But I don’t like knocking it down. It’s too much noise.”

“I don’t like knocking things down either.”

We took the castle apart methodically. I pushed away the feelings of stress that tried to creep up inside me. Sometimes when I was playing, things from work would pop up. To-do lists. Cases perplexing me. Research that the team needed to get finished. All the things that went along with being a lawyer and an adult in general.

“Where did you go?” Tristan asked.

“Oh. Nothing. Thinking about life.” Not a lie but not the whole truth.

He nodded. “Sometimes things bother me too. Overthinking is my enemy. Let’s focus on the tower. Piece by piece. It helps.”

He was handsome and brilliant, this one. Maybe this time, I’d found a friend—a real friend.

I wanted him to be more than a friend, but he was a little like me. Things didn’t work like that.

We laughed and built the tower piece by piece. I focused on the feel of the slick plastic in my hands. The colors of the blocks and the sounds they made as we locked each piece in. The sounds of others playing around us, which was a dull hum tonight. The way Tristan’s thigh and hands brushed against mine more than once. I was beginning to think he was doing it on purpose.

We both reached for the same block and laughed as our hands touched. I turned my head to the side to see him looking at me instead of the blocks. His gaze met mine and it was over for me. I was instantly struck by his attractiveness. His hair lay over his forehead in a way that made me think he did it on purpose, the perfect dishevel. Tristan’s eyes were a pale blue that called me in, and I found my body swaying toward him.

Before I could get hold of myself or remind myself that he probably didn’t like me the way I liked him, he closed the distance between us and gently pressed his lips to mine. A thousand fireworks exploded behind my closed eyes as I soaked in the moment.

Tristan was kissing me. Everything in me wanted him.

He pulled away after a few seconds, and I whimpered softly at the loss of touch. His lips tasted like cotton candy. My favorite.

When my eyes fluttered open, Tristan’s cheeks were a brighter shade of red than before. He shrugged one shoulder. “Was that okay?”

“It was more than okay. If you hadn’t, I would’ve.”

He nodded. We sat there for a moment, both of us caught up in the hazy aftermath. I caught him looking over my shoulder. “I think we have an audience.”

“I don’t want to turn around,” I laughed.

“Let’s go back to playing, and you can see what I mean.”

We went back to playing, which was hard since my body was reeling from his touch. My skin tingled. My mind rattled off thoughts about what was and what might be. Tristan might’ve kissed me, but we were both littles and from what I knew, littles didn’t make a couple. Then again, Dallas and Colter had been together and had a shared daddy.

Wait, I was getting ahead of myself. One kiss didn’t equal a future.

While we put away the blocks, I took a chance to look around for the daddy Tristan had been talking about. Sure enough, in one of the chairs along the wall, was a daddy.

One of the hottest men I’d ever seen in my life.

He looked relaxed. His legs were crossed and his arms by his sides but his eyes—that intense stare was on nothing else but Tristan and me.

“That’s the one?” I asked my new friend. “The one with the black shirt on?”

Tristan nodded. “Yes. When we were…” He looked down sheepishly. “When we kissed, he looked at us. I think he liked it.”

“I liked it too.”

He nodded, but eventually we returned to playing. I found myself wishing I had more free time. We could watch movies together and share meals and be the bestest of friends even though I wanted more.

What I really wanted were more of those sweet kisses. More of his time and more time for me to stare into his beautiful eyes.

I imagined us sharing movie time. Playtime.

There I went again, imagining a future that might never be.