Page 33 of Absinthe Dreams
"I…" I gape at him, and then I sigh. "We seriously need to work on our communication."
"Isn't that what we're doing right now?"
"Yeah, I guess it is."
"For the record, I prefer this to you telling me to go fuck myself with a rusty pole."
"That probably wasn't my finest moment."
"Are you kidding? You looked so fucking cute when you were growling that shit at me. Christ, Coco. I was hard for a goddamn week straight."
I shake my head at him, not entirely surprised.
"You know how you think I stopped talking to you over prom?" he says.
I tense, glancing over at him. "What about it?"
"The night you called me, you mentioned that prick asking you to go with him. Bent or Dent or whatever the fuck his name was," he growls. "I was jealous as hell, Chloe. You looked like an angel in that dress, and you were going with some other guy. I was fucking terrified to call you after because I just knew you were going to tell me all about your perfect night with him."
"What?" I blink at him in shock. "You think I went with Bentley?"
He jerks his chin in a nod.
"Trystan…" I place my palm against his chest. "I didn't go with him. I went alone and ended up leaving after an hour because I didn't even want to be there. I wanted to gowith you. That's whyI mentioned him asking me. I kind of hoped that you'd ask to go with me instead."
"Jesus," he groans, tugging me into his arms. "I fucked up."
"We both did," I whisper, resting my head against his chest. "And then I was so hurt because you didn't call, that I just…pushed you further away." I did exactly as he said and iced him out, too damn mad to let him back in after he broke my heart. But I think I broke his first. "I'm sorry."
"Hey." He tips my chin up again. "You don't owe me an apology. We can't go back and undo the shit we did as teenagers or anything that's happened since, so we aren't going to dwell on it. We both did and said things we shouldn't have. We both acted like clueless teenagers. But you called me your friend again today, and I feel alive in a way I haven't in years. That's what we're focusing on now, baby. Not all the shit we screwed up, but everything we're getting right from here on out."
"I like that," I whisper. It doesn't matter how much we dredge up the past. It won't change it. Like he said, we were clueless teenagers, acting like clueless teenagers. We hurt each other. It's what teenagers do. But…we don't have to be those versions of ourselves now. We get to do better than we did back then. We get to start over and make something new.
If he's all in, so am I. I'll follow him anywhere, even if it ends in disaster. At this point, we owe that chance to ourselves…and we owe it to those clueless younger versions, too. Maybe we're only just now figuring it out, but this is what they were fighting for all along. They were just doing it all wrong.
"Good," he murmurs, brushing his lips across mine in a soft kiss. "Because you're all mine until Wyatt gets home, and I fully intend to spend every second lost in you, Coco. Every single one."
"Sounds like heaven to me."
He smiles against my lips, and my damn heart sings…the same way it's always sang for that smile.
Chapter Eight
Trystan
I'm up before thesun—as fucking usual. But Chloe is still passed out across the bed like a starfish, the blankets tangled around her gorgeous body. I just lay there for a long time, watching her sleep. She's peaceful in a way she never is when she's awake, warm in a way that's too damn perfect.
She mumbles my name in her sleep, her brows furrowing, and I'd kill to know exactly what she's dreaming about right now.
Am I all over her like I was all day yesterday?
Is she coming around me? Or am I pissing her off like usual?
Her mind is a fascinating place. She's so fucking smart, so fiercely independent. She thinks she can take on the world, but I don't think she realizes that she's never had to do it. I'd kill to stand in front of her against the world. I know her dad and Wyatt feel the same way. She's always been ours to protect. Even before I understood what that meant, I knew it was my job just as much as it was theirs.
I brush my lips across her bare shoulder and then carefully pull the blankets up over her. She sighs sweetly, rolling onto her side. And I immediately want to skip every part of the day that requires me to leave this bed.
But I can't do that. She's already sore, and I won't be the asshole who puts my needs before hers. Fuck that noise. My dick has waited a lifetime for a taste of her. It'll survive one day.
