Page 41 of The Boy I Hate

She’d never seen Tristan with a baby before, and for some reason the image rocked her. She knew she wanted children, but the sight of Tristan cradling a small child in his arms caused a physical reaction to stir low in her belly. One she’d been repressing for a long time. That sort of primal longing she’d always heard her mother talking about. That ache deep inside for a family of her own. She told herself she was being silly and her reaction was still the effects of the car ride, but she knew it was more than that. Because in all her childhood daydreams, all the games she played with Renee as a girl, she always imagined herself like Patty. With a round pregnant belly and a baby on each arm. It was only since Steven her dreams had changed. With his goals for his career and ideas of success, he wanted one. One child. Not three or four. He was realistic, always took her wild eccentric dreams and reminded her of reality. Starting a family in their late thirties was the goal. When he was sure to have good medical care, stability, andahome.

She walked in through the open door of Patty’s home a moment later, finding it cozy and warm, and Tristan and Patty both standing in the living room by a wood burning stove. True to Patty’s word, a seventy-two inch television sat front and center. It was odd seeing such an extravagant appliance in the middle of what was otherwise a modest dwelling, but after knowing Patty for no more than an hour, Samantha would have expectednothingless.

Patty put her keys on the kitchen counter, hitched her baby high on her shoulder and looked over to Tristan. “There are pillows and blankets in the hallway closet. You all help yourselves. Given how cold it is tonight, I don’t expect you two will mind a goodcuddle.”

The baby slipped a fraction of an inch as Patty yawned. But she hitched him back up again and continued down the hall. “I’m going to have to excuse myself from hostess duties tonight. These babies have downright tuckered me out.” She then lifted her chin to Tristan, then turned slightly to indicate he shouldfollowher.

“This here’s the potty.” She stopped again, pointing to a door to her right. “Take a shower if you like. Towels are in with the pillows.” At the end of the hall, she took the sleeping toddler from Tristan’s arms and closed the doorbehindher.

Tristan stood there a second, rolling his shoulders backward as though he’d been relieved from a large weight and emotion rushed to Samantha’s face andthroat.

She turned around, surprised by the panic that surged inside her. She wasn’t sure what caused it, but right now she felt unsteady—being alone with Tristan, seeing a young mom so prideful and happy with her family. Her simple home. The last thing she needed was to be alone with Tristan. It was the last thing sheneeded.

There was only onecouch.

She wrapped her arms around her belly at the realization and took a deep breath. The couch was large, but not big enough. She unzipped her jacket—Tristan’s Jacket—feeling odd that she still wore it and draped it across one of the chairs. Somehow, he was slipping through all her walls, one by one, and she no idea how to bring them back upagain.

She picked up her bag off the cushion and began fishing in the pocket for her cell phone. She needed to call Steven, to tell him where they were, that she was okay, but again, there were no bars. Tristan was right behind her, and she could feel him moving closer. “You don’t happen to have a signal do you?” sheasked.

He shook his head slowly, shoving his hands deep in hispockets.

She stuffed her cell back in her bag and zipped it shut. “Figures,” she mumbled. She threw her bag on the couch and moved to the kitchen window “It’s pretty here.” Her voice was broken, but she needed to say something so the silence didn’t kill her. It was agony. Torture. Because all she wanted was to know what he wasthinking.

He nodded, then rested his hip on the counterbesideher.

You have a boyfriend. He loves you. Youlovehim.

She flipped around, bracing her hands on the counter, trying to hold herself steady, but it wasn’t working. Her heart was pounding so hard her legs became weak—she didn’t want to do this. “We should go to bed. We have a big day in the morning,” she whispered. But he didn’t move fromhisspot.

“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked, his voicegentle.

She pushed off the counter like a snake had just bitten her. “No. Let’s not talk about it.” She shook her head. “Let’s forget about it.” She wrapped her arms around her body, realizing she sounded ridiculous. But it was too late. “I’m not going to climb into bed with you,Tristan.”

He smiled, having to cover his mouth to prevent a laugh. “I didn’t sayyouwere.”

She rubbed both hands over her face and took a deep breath. “There’s only onecouch.”

“I’ll take the floor,” he saidsoftly.

They were both quiet for a moment, and she could feel tears threatening behind her eyelids. “I have aboyfriend.”

“Iknow.”

She turned toward the hallway. There was a sort of charge holding her back, keeping her from running, but this time her conscious won the battle. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she whispered. “Do you need anything in there beforeIgo?”

“No.”

She nodded, wishing she could see his expression. To know what he was thinking… but she couldn’t look back. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could resist throwing herself intohisarms.

“I’m sorry about what I said in the restaurant. It’s not true.” She forced her hands to her sides, took her large bag off the couch, and went to the bathroom. Pulling in a shuddery breath, she turned the faucet on in the shower, and let herself cry. What was happening to her? She wasn’t sure, but something was changing. Or maybe her doubts about Steven had been there the whole time and she wouldn’t allow herself to feel them. It was as though the wool had been ripped from her eyes, allowing her to see how bright the world was. How many shades of color she’d been missing. And it had taken Tristan to allow her toseethem.

17

ChapterSeventeen

Next morning,Patty drove them to meet the mechanic in the middle of the next town. It was smaller than she’d expected, though still quaint and lively for being so early in the morning. People were out on each corner, strolling from flower shop to antique stores too many to count—and bars—she counted at least three as they drove in from themainroad.

Patty dropped them off at the corner, where she kept the car running so her babies wouldn’t fret. “Tell Bob that I sent you,” she said. “He’s a good mechanic and won’t send you a on goose chase if he knows you’re with me.” She then gave them each a brief hug, and hopped back into her van without lingering. “Look me up if you ever come back this way. I’ve downright enjoyed yourcompany.”

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