Page 32 of Perfectly Wrong
“I value our friendship, and frankly, I would never want to hurt Tristan. Those two reasons are enough to keep me from pursuing.” Further anyway.
Rocco steps forward, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hold him, rubbing his back. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I step back, gazing into his eyes. “Sorry for what?”
“Not being okay with it. Maybe I’ll get there.”
I cup his face. “You don’t need to get there. Tristan will go back to school, and I’ll be fine.” I lean in and kiss his forehead. “I know you just have everyone’s best interest at heart.”
We both turn when Tristan enters the kitchen. His eyes shift between us, clearly noticing the closeness between me and his dad. Rocco motions for him to come over, pulling him close. Tristan’s arm rests around my waist and his dad’s.
“We were just talking about you,” Rocco says.
“About?” Tristan asks.
“I was apologizing to Bishop because I just can’t be okay with the two of you being romantic.” Tristan’s eyes widen. “Yes, it’s obvious you’re both attracted to each other.”
I look at Tristan in a way I hope he understands.
“He assures me nothing has happened between you.”
“Apologize?”
“Yeah,” Rocco continues. “I want you both to be happy, but not together, and I’m sorry for being the reason Bishop won’t pursue you.”
Tristan nods as his arm slides away from me. “I see.”
“I hope you can understand.”
Tristan’s big blue eyes settle on his father for a moment before shifting to me. “So you two adults made all the decisions about my life without discussing with me. Cool.” He steps back. “I’m going out with Trinity.”
“Where are you going?” Rocco asks.
“I can make that decision on my own. Or do we need to ask Bishop first?”
“Come on, Tristan,” Rocco says, while I remain silent. “It’s not that.”
“Whatever, dad. I’ll see you later.” His eyes linger on mine. “Bye, Bishop.”
He walks out, but Rocco chases after him. I finish loading the dishwasher. Rocco’s right. Getting involved with Tristan is nothing but trouble. No matter how much I want him.
Hours later,I’m startled awake by my ringing phone. I grab it from the nightstand.
“Hello?”
“Bishop?”
“Who’s this?”
“Trinity.”
I sit up in bed. “What’s wrong?”
“Tristan is wasted and won’t come out of the men’s bathroom.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“I can’t call his dad. He’d be so pissed. Besides, we’re downtown.”
