Page 68 of Twisted Fate

I cross my arms, then panic. I didn’t put on a bra this morning. Thank goodness I threw on a heavy sweatshirt before I left. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I turn my face to the side. “This isn’t what we agreed on.”

“I thought this might be better,” he says.

I sigh. “Tristan—”

“I’m going to go put some clothes on so you can focus on something other than my body, and then we’ll have a nice,casualbreakfast before work.”

My eyes snap back to his, and I gape at him.

He smirks before walking away, and damn it if I don’t stare until he’s out of sight.

Once Tristan returns, wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, I sit at the counter on one of the bar stools and watch him slice an orange. The whole scene is way too domestic, and it makes my chest ache with longing.

“Everything is set for tonight,” I say.

He glances at me and shakes his head. “No work talk before breakfast.”

“I . . . okay, what do you want to talk about?”

“Why don’t you tell me about school?” He drops the orange slices onto a plate with strawberries and blueberries before he whisks the eggs and milk for the French toast.

I grab one of the strawberries and bite into it. “I’ve been working on my resume and portfolio since the beginning of the semester, so after graduation I can apply to positions right away. There are several businesses in Rockdale I have in mind, and a few out of town as well.”

“Have you considered mine?”

I pause. “I wasn’t aware there was a position open.”

His lips twitch. “There isn’t.”

My brows inch closer before I shake my head. “I’m not going to work for you, Tristan.”

He dips one slice of bread into the egg before laying it in a frying pan, then does the same with another. “I figured you’d say that.”

“Good, then you won’t bring it up again.”

He bites into a strawberry. “I won’t bring it up again.”

I smile. “You have powdered sugar, right?”

“Top shelf in that cupboard behind you.” He inclines his head toward the row of storage behind me, so I slip off the stool and open the door. I reach up on my tiptoes and can almost grab it. I jump a little and still can’t manage. I hear a faint laugh behind me before an arm extends past mine and pulls it down, setting it on the counter in front of me.

“There you go,” Tristan murmurs, his lips brushing my ear.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Turn around,” he instructs in a deep voice. I don’t feel the mental pull I imagine would come with his mind manipulation if it worked on me, but hell if I don’t want to do what he says anyway.

“No,” I breathe, unable to keep my eyes from fluttering shut. “If I turn around, you’re going to kiss me.”

“Am I?” The amusement is clear in his voice.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Hmm . . .” His voice trails off to a light hum as his lips press against the side of my neck, just under my ear. “I can’t do that.”

“We should eat,” I say.

He inhales. “I couldn’t agree more.” He nips my earlobe, and I gasp.

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