Page 131 of Taken By the Fae

Okay, maybe that sounded a bit like I was coming over for, well,notthe reason I came over.

I cringe. “Fuck. I meant Nikolai wasn’t coming.”

His forehead creases as his brows lift. “There would never be a time or a place where I’d be down for that.”

I can’t help the grin spreading across my lips. For a moment, I forget why I’m here. “You’re such a smartass.”

“Coming from you, that’s a high compliment.” He leans against the doorway. “Are you coming in?”

My eyes narrow a fraction. “Not a booty call,” I remind him, stepping past him into the suite. I try to ignore the tingle that shoots up my arm when it brushes his. I pause in the entryway, stepping out of my shoes and leaving them by the door like I’d gotten so used to doing.

“Can I get you a drink?” he murmurs, closing the door before walking toward me.

“Please.”

We end up in the living room, sitting opposite to one another on the couches with glasses of white wine in our hands. My eyes flick around the room as the tightness in my chest refuses to let up. I miss this place. For as much shit that went down here, the Westbrook Hotel—Tristan’s penthouse—became a home to me.Tristan became home to me.

I shove the thought away, but it leaves a bitter film of memory behind. I’m not sure how to jump into the whole,Jules was my fae ancestor thing.

“How are things?” Tristan asks.

“Better,” I tell him. “Nikolai has been helpful.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “I’m having a hard time with you being around him so much.”

“I can see that,” I say mildly and take a sip of my drink. “I know the two of you don’t like each other, but you’re both going to suck it up because in the grand scheme of things, your past minor issues don’t matter.”

His lips twitch. “I miss that wit of yours.”

“It didn’t go anywhere.”

“No, but you did.”

The invisible grip on my heart pulses painfully. “Tristan…” I shake my head, as if I’m begging him not to bring that up tonight. Because with the way I’m feeling after finding out I’m related to Jules, to the fae Ikilled, I might just be tempted to throw everything aside and let myself get lost in him. And that wouldn’t be fair to either of us when I’m still struggling to figure everything out.

He frowns. “You came to me. We could’ve just as easily had this conversation on the phone.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. He’s right, and we both know it. I didn’t need to come, and yet, here I am, because even if I’m struggling with what we are, an inherent part of me craves him—needs to be around him still. “Right. I know that.”

“I’m worried about you, Aurora.”

I force what I hope is a believable smile. “You don’t need to be. You have more important—”

“No,” he cuts in firmly, shaking his head. “Don’t dismiss this.”

“I’m not trying to.”

His gaze meets mine. “Promise me something?” The softness in his voice wraps around me like the black silk sheets that dress his bed.

“Okay,” I whisper after several beats of silence.

“Take care of yourself. You are important to me.”

The rush of emotions slams into me like a brick wall, as if he’s let down the shield on his emotions, and my lips part. “I…”

“Please.” His unwavering gaze makes my heart pound harder.

“I promise.”

---