Page 24 of Twisted Fate

I step away from the table, turning my back on this fucked-up interview, and head for the door. I’m reaching for the handle when I make a snap decision. I turn around quickly, only to find myself face to chest with Tristan. His presence overwhelms me all at once. Heat radiates from him, warming my cheeks as I fight to not inhale his scent. I need to keep my thoughts clear, sharp. I can’t have my head spinning right now.

“What?” I breathe.

He steals my gaze. “You turned around,” he says, a challenge in his tone.

“You were following me,” I counter, unable to force my eyes away from his.

“And soon you’ll be the one following me.” He flashes a grin. “Lighten up, Aurora. Your negative energy is ruining this moment. Try to see it as a unique learning opportunity.”

I glare at him. “Are you kidding me?”

He raises a brow. “What would you like me to say?” He tips his face closer sightly, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “You’re not making this little situation of ours any easier.”

“You’re the one who waltzed into my life all tall, dark, and...you.” I want to kick myself for letting his proximity cloud my head for even a second. Damn him and his distracting blue eyes and crisp, alluring scent.Fucking hell, I need to get out of here.

He leans forward, and I step back until I’m against the door. “I’m almost glad my manipulation doesn’t work on you,” he says in a voice so quiet I barely catch it. “I think that would eliminate all the fun we have.”

I shove him back, and he concedes a few inches with a nod, because there’s no way my actual shove did anything. “What part of this do you think isfunfor me?” I bark out a laugh. “You think I go home at the end of the day laughing to myself at how muchfunI’ve had dealing with an arrogant, egocentric, fae leader who could ruin my entire life if he chooses?” My hands are still pressed against his chest.Whyare my hands still pressed against his chest?

Tristan tilts his head to the side, watching me with interest. My chest swirls with nervous energy as my eyes flick across his face.

“I’m not afraid of you, as stupid as that is. I’m concerned as to why you’re paying me so much attention. Max was right.” I pause. “You better not tell him I said that. If only you could make me forget. Then I wouldn’t have the knowledge of your race, regardless of whatever creepy connection my family has to the fae.”

Tristan seems to consider this for a moment before he says, “If it were possible, would you really want me to make you forget?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I mutter, finally finding the will to pull my hands away and let them fall to my sides.

“I realize that. I’m asking you.”

“I don’t see that it matters now,” I say.

“Answer the question.”

“Why?” I snap.

He’s quick in sliding a finger under my chin and tilting it up until our eyes meet, and my heart slams against my chest. His eyes flit back and forth across my face as I stand there, frozen. The wildness of his irises calms for a moment. There’s a shift, almost too insignificant to notice, but I catch it. For a split second, a pained expression darkens his features. It’s gone before I can understand what it means, and he steps away, giving me room to breathe.

His hands fall to his sides. “I think that answers my question.”

My throat is too dry to speak; my voice will crack if I try, so I stay silent. This interview is over. I reach for the door and step into the hallway, feeling Tristan’s gaze on my back. My feet carry me toward the lobby, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m almost far enough away to let myself relax when I hear his send-off.

“Good to meet you, Miss Marshall. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Allison jumps when I return to our room and slam the door shut, throwing my bag onto my bed. My mind is still going a million miles an hour with no end in sight.

“We have to talk about the fae. Now.” I need answers, or I’m going to unhinge. My life has been uprooted and flipped upside down, but knowing there’s so much Idon’tknow is making my anxiety dig its claws in deep.

She sits up on her bed and turns her attention to me.

“Especially since I went for my interview...” She nods along, but she has no idea where I’m going with this. “Tristan is my mentor.”

She stiffens. “What the hell?How?”

“How? He screwed with my program coordinator’s head, Al. He made her put me with his company, and now my life is ruined.” It sounds melodramatic, but it’s true.

“We’ll figure this out, Aurora. I promise.”

“There’s nothing we can do. I’m stuck with this. I need a placement to graduate, so I’m going to have to bite the bullet and show up on Monday.” It’s days away, but I’m already wound up tight, my mind running through the possible ways it could go.

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