Page 9 of Ambrosia Kisses
I flick another glance over at Paisley. She's got her head bent, whispering back and forth with Lucy this time. I can't make out a damn word they're saying, but the conversation seems intense. About me? A motherfucker can dream, right?
"Shit. I might let you," I mutter to Trystan.
He shoots me a questioning glance, but I just shake my head, not in the mood to explain. Bastian and Oliver are the only ones in the family who know anything about what happened with Paisley, and neither of them knows much.
Bastian was with me the morning she left. He knows how serious I was about her. And I had to tell Oliver something,considering his wife is her best friend. I've never been able to admit the whole sad truth, though. As far as my cousin and brother know, we just didn't work out. I didn't tell either of them that she ditched me for another man. I didn't tell them that it fucking broke me. I damn sure haven't told them that she still haunts me.
And I don't want the rest of my family in my business, so I've kept them out of it entirely. They meddle as badly as Lucy does, and the last fucking thing I need is all of them trying to interfere.
"What's up with you?" Tryst asks after a minute.
I consider not answering and then shrug instead, my gaze drifting back to Paisley.
"You ever wanted something you shouldn't?" It's a stupid question. We both know the answer is a resounding yes. He's been in love with his best friend, Wyatt Walker's sister, Chloe, since we were kids. And since Wyatt and Chloe are practically family—their mom is Uncle Carter's sister—well, it's complicated.
Tryst glances at me and then over at Lucy and Paisley. "You talking about Paisley?" I arch a brow at him, but he just smirks in response. "If you think everyone doesn't already know that you've been hiding out in Italy because of her, you're delusional, Ridley."
"No one ever said anything."
"You haven't exactly been here."
I have no defense for that, so I just grunt.
Tryst doesn't say anything as Huck brings his beer over, sliding it across the bar to him. Once my cousin has it in hand, he turns back to me. "Maybe we figured we should stay out of it."
"Miracles never cease," I say, deadpan.
He discreetly flips me off before sobering. "So you're still hung up on her, huh?"
"Looks like it."
"So why are you over here, drinking alone?"
"You miss the part where I asked you about wanting something you shouldn't? She's already got a man." I snort. "Had one the same goddamn day she walked away without a goodbye."
Trystan pauses with his beer halfway to his lips, his eyes wide. "Is that what you think happened?"
"What Ithinkhappened?" My brows furrow. "That is what happened."
"You sure about that?"
"Motherfucker, I was there. It happened." I showed up at her dorm, ready to soothe whatever fears sent her running, only to find her hanging all over some motherfucker right out front. I realized pretty quickly that it wasn't fear that sent her running. It was her man back at school.
It took everything I had not to get out of the truck and wrap my hands around his throat. I wanted to do it so fucking badly I actually envisioned it happening. Me, with my hands around his throat. His face turning purple and then blue. Paisley, screaming and crying for me to stop because she loves him.
Three years later, that shit still fucks me up a little.
Tryst takes a slow swallow, eyeing me over the top of his bottle. He doesn't say anything, but the way he's looking at me…
"What?"
"Maybe shit isn't always what it looks like, man," he says quietly.
"Right." I tip my bottle back, draining it. "Well, hate to break it to you, but there aren't many goddamn ways to interpret my girl all hugged up with a motherfucker who wasn't me."
"You need to talk to her."
"No thanks." I haul myself to my feet with a shake of my head. "Some shit is better left in the past."
