Page 29 of Lust
We? Us? Our?
The shelter didn’t fall under Tris’ jurisdiction, nor would it benefit his campaign. So, why get involved when he already had so much on his plate?
I shouldn’t be surprised. This was our dynamic, after all. Twenty-four hours ago, I was furious with him for giving away my clothes. Now, I loved him for making time in his busy schedule to help with my cause.
This lifeline was why I believed my brother would make a great president someday. Yes, this man was beautiful like every woman claimed, but he also had a beautiful soul that they constantly overlooked. Within the week, Tris and I would likely return to our animosity. In the meanwhile, I reveled in the friendship.
I tackled him at full speed and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
He chuckled softly at my unsolicited reaction. “Does that mean that I’m off the hook and you’re no longer plotting my downfall?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I rasped out with a sheepish smile.
My response made him laugh, shoulders shaking lightly under my arms.
Leaning back, I stared at his amber orbs. “I can’t believe you’d help. I know how busy you are with the campaign. Really, Tris. Thank you.”
His gaze locked on my lips for a little too long. It felt like my whole body was lit on fire under his attention, with tiny ants nipping at me. For a moment, I wondered even if my knees would give out. Lately, the way Tristan regarded me—studying every inch of my face as if trying to memorize what I looked like—unnerved me. I took a deep inhale to clear my head and felt nearly overwhelmed by his smell, which was clean and familiar. I guess it was masculine, too, if I had to nitpick.
The daze ended at the feel of an unexpected hardness poking my stomach. My mind was playing tricks on me; I was sure of it. There was no way Tristan was… hard.
No. Of course not.
Tris would never so callously continue to hug his sister if he had a hard-on. My mind was merely dirty, and I wanted everyone else to be just as sinful.
The intimate space between us was unsettling me, that’s all. Pulling my hands off his shoulders, I tried to step out of his hold. Tris narrowed his eyes at the hasty retreat but dropped the arm banded around my waist.
My eyes tried to aim for his face but kept failing in their attempts and sought out the broad chest instead, the muscles of his biceps flexing.
I cleared my throat. “I should take a shower before heading to the shelter.”
Tris froze at the mention of the shelter, then slowly turned his back to me as he browsed my bookshelf. “Do you know if those cops are still patrolling the shelter?” he asked nonchalantly.
Crap. We never discussed my dance with Tobias. “I-I don’t know.”
“Hmm.”
“I didn’t get into more trouble with cops if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Cops are always trouble,” he countered.
I held his gaze when he turned around, saying nothing more.
He sighed. “Listen, Angel. I have to return to Virginia,” he said remorsefully. He gave me a long look before adding in a low voice, “I’ll be back next weekend for our… shopping date.”
Oh.
“If you run into that cop in the meantime... I want you to stay away from him. Cops are always sniffing around, trying to get politicians into trouble. You only have to say the wrong thing once, and it can ruin everything for us. You understand, don’t you?”
For all intents and purposes, our entire family had staked their lives for Tris’ campaign. If he genuinely believed my association might hurt his chances, I wouldn’t partake. But it was absurd. Tris wasn’t doing anything illegal, and in any case, I wouldn’t discuss his campaign with an outsider.
All the same, I remembered the flicker of hurt when I didn’t listen to his request about Tobias the first time. So, I knew to be delicate with my words.
“It was only a dance, Tris,” I placated.
“Humor me, Angel. Stay away from that cop.”
I might not understand why this mattered, but since I had no intention of seeing Tobias again, what difference did it make?
