Page 63 of Corrupt Me

Someone screamed my name. At least I thought they did.

Or maybe it was the roaring in my head.

Ever!

The nightmare shattered.Hell, my world shattered, but through the buzzing agony, a husky, persistent voice penetrated. It tried to reach me, but the noise in my head reverberated so loudly.

“Ever. Wake up,” someone urged again, more insistent this time.

My shoulders shook. I could feel them moving, but sleep didn’t want to let me go—not completely.

“It’s just a dream. Come on, Shortcake, open your eyes for me,” someone coaxed. Tristan. It didn’t matter what state I was in. Conscious or unconscious, my soul recognized him.

What Tristan said wasn’t entirely true. I had been dreaming, but that night had been real—a memory, one my mind had decided to relive when I was feeling down and defenseless.

My eyelids fluttered and then opened. I blinked, the bloody waters slowly giving way to the dark room. I wasn’t beside the pool, sobbing on the ground next to my lifeless mother.

I was in bed with Tristan.

His fingers brushed gently along the side of my cheek. “There you are.” Something that almost resembled relief flitted across his face as he leaned over me. The hard length of his body was close enough that his warmth seeped into me. I wanted to curl into him, bury my head into his chest, and inhale his scent. He was real. I needed something real to adhere to.

Had he been worried about me? I didn’t know how I felt about it. Before the blackmail pictures, I wouldn’t have batted an eye at his protectiveness, but after…

Fighting to level my rapid heartbeat, I lay still, afraid to move…afraid of what I might do. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

His fingers fell away from the side of my face. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

The rain had stopped, and it helped to distinguish between the present and the past. I took a long breath in and let it out with slow control. “Sorry. I know I’m not the easiest to sleep with.” It hadn’t been my intention to keep him from being able to rest. He had to be exhausted. Guilt nudged into my gut with all the other twisted emotions vying for attention.

He didn’t move away but stayed close, propping an arm under his head as he looked at me. “Don’t apologize.”

So many things tonight paralleled the memory of finding my mother unalive. No wonder my unconscious mind went back there, connecting the lines, remembering details of the past I longed to forget. It was so fucking hard to compel my mind to unsee my mother in a pool of blood, stiff, so pale, and lifeless when I was desperate to remember how she looked alive, not dead.

My fingers itched to touch him—to feel his warmth—to ground me to the present. I curled them into the blanket instead. It had always been Tristan who showed up to save me. Never Preston. And each time Tristan swept in, I ended up confused by him. His words and his actions never made sense. They contradicted each other. “Why do you care what happens to me?” I whispered, holding his piercing blue eyes captive.

The wrinkle over his brow deepened. “What makes you think I do?”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t get to do that this time. You constantly try to make me think you’re an asshole, but the thing is, Tristan, you’re not. At least not to me.”

He studied my face. No, study wasn’t the right word. His eyes drank me in, stirring feelings inside me, feelings I wasn’tsure I could handle right now. “You got me all figured out, huh, Shortcake?”

“Don’t be patronizing. It’s getting old.” Tristan might not be ready or willing to admit it, but I knew why he cared. It was the same reason I did.

Something was between us. It had always been there.

How long were we going to continue to deny it? To push those feelings aside? To pretend they didn’t exist?

Neither of us ever wanted to hurt Preston. If there was one thing Tristan and I had in common, it was our tenacity to protect Preston. Tristan went to great lengths to protect those he loved. So did I.

But I no longer cared about Preston’s feelings.

He hadn’t cared or thought about mine when he stuck his dick in another girl. I had to stop thinking about Preston and start thinking about me. About what I wanted.

And staring at Tristan, I knew exactly what I desired.

At least for tonight.

Tristan chuckled lowly, brushing away strands of my hair clinging to my neck and then tucked them behind my ear. “I always thought you were strong. I’m glad you’re finally realizing it too. It’s about damn time.”

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