Page 13 of The Sweetest Risk

Tristan unlocks the door and opens it and there standing in the middle of his doorway is none other than an ice girl, in just a hockey jersey. No scratch that–in one of Tristan’s jerseys. Her eyes look hungry as she gazes up and down Tristan’s immaculate body. That son of a bitchwaswaiting for someone. He fucking lied to me.

Tristan scratches the back of his head and says, “Uh, Alison, I kind of have company right now.”

“No, no he doesn’t.” I snap the first aid kit shut and get up from the couch. My face is hot again, but this time out of pure embarrassment. I look nothing like this girl. Her platinum blonde hair and stark blue eyes are almost blinding, and she is perfectly spray-tanned. She is devastatingly beautiful and definitely Tristan’s type. Which I am clearly not.

“Brooke…”

“It’s fine, Hot Shot. You were waiting for her anyway, right?” I sear my stare into his eyes and his eyebrows furrow as if he is insulted at that accusation. He almost looks mad at me for leaving! Why the fuck would I stay?

I address the ice girl: “I was only cleaning him up for you. Alice, was it? He’s all yours.”

I brush past her and quickly make a safe distance between me and my enemy. I am glad Alison did show up so it could snap me the hell out of whatever trance I was in. Stupid me for thinking that Tristan Lawson has changed his colors. Nope, he is still the sullen gray man I’ve always known him to be.

10

“Hey, B, what time do we need to leave for the auditorium? Your brother is coming, right?” Tess is helping one of our kids tie his tiny shoes.

“In about a couple of minutes. As far as I know, yes. I think he is supposed to bring Dean, too.” I am trying to clean up the manipulatives off the tables and back into the bins. My Apple Watch has been going off a bunch of times this morning. When I glance at who is trying to call me or text me, I see that it’s Bradley, but I am a little busy wrangling five- and six-year-olds.

“Miss Beckett?” Our little red-headed cutie, Hudson, tugs on my skirt.

I open the classroom door and prop it open with the door stopper. “Yes, Hudson, what is it sweetie?”

Hudson points to something behind me. I turn.

No. This cannot be happening.

What the hell is Tristan doing here?

Before he can advance any further, I press against his chest and keep him out in the hallway while Tess leads our class toward the auditorium for the career day presentation.

“What are you doing here?” I say through my teeth.

“Nice to see you too, Cupcake. Bradley called me and said that he’s in a bind. Jen needed something done for the wedding. Some tasting or other. He said he would let you know.”

I wasn’t about to admit that I never got a chance to answer my brother’s phone calls or even the several text messages I left unread. “Well he didn’t.” I grab my coffee tumbler and start walking toward the auditorium. “Thanks for coming, I guess.”

I try so hard not to notice how hot Tristan looks today. Ever since my stupid sex dream and seeing him in a towel, I can’t stop thinking about his washboard abs. And his perfect V leading down to…Nope! Stop that thinking, Brooke. But still, he looked extra hot today. He is wearing a backwards Storm hat and a black Storm t-shirt that barely fits his torso and his arms are bulging out of his short sleeves. His legs are like tree trunks in his basketball shorts. How can someone’s legs be that muscular?

He puts his hands in his pockets and clears his throat. “Also, I wanted to talk to you about the other night. I wasn’t exp…”

“It’s fine. No need to explain. It was a mistake to come by anyway. You’re a big boy. You could’ve taken care of yourself.” We reach the auditorium. I swing open the door and gesture for him to walk in. “Just don’t start a fight in front of the kids. Can you handle that, Hot Shot?”

Tristan walks over to the last empty seat next to Dean on the stage. There are about a dozen people who have shown up for the Career Day panel. Excitement fills the room as kids and adults alike fawn over the two pro athletes who decided to grace us with their presence. I see my principal walk some press into theauditorium. This is probably good for Tristan and Dean’s public relations, considering the fight they got into the other night. Maybe that’s also why Bradley was so eager for Tristan to take his place. Other than the wedding stuff, Tristan needs to make nice with Dean.

Tess saved me a spot next to our little kiddos and I huff as I sit down. I’m annoyed, both at the fact that my brother bailed, and also at the fact that I am ridiculously turned on by one of the men sitting on that damn stage.

“This is going to be interesting,” Tess leans over and whispers.

“Yup,” I say curtly.

“I really don’t understand why you even have that rule. Do you want my opinion?”

“If I say no, are you going to give it to me anyway?” I pretend that I am writing something on my clipboard, even though I am just making the same small line over and over again. I’m going to make a hole through this paper.

“Of course. And only because you need to hear it. I think you need to get rid of this super outdated, and dare I say it, stupid rule. I think it would be fun to have a little rebound,” she lowers her voice even more, “S-E-X. And since you loathe Tristan, I think that Dean would be the perfect person for that. I am sure he is going to be way more exciting in bed than Nick. He was so boring.”

Everything that Tess is saying is unfortunately true. I was with Nick for two years and I really thought that he was the person for me. He was stable with his job at an accounting firm. I thought stability was what I wanted, but I also realized that he was okay with putting our relationship on auto-pilot. I was just there. Yeah, he made me laugh with his silly dad jokes and the sex with him was fine. That was just it–it was fine. I convinced myself that it would get more explosive and exciting over time,but it didn’t. The worst thing was that I thought he was going to propose to me at a fancy dinner a couple of months ago, but he just wanted to take me out because of a big account that he acquired.

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