Page 67 of Starstruck

I made another mental note to always remember to lock the dormdoor, just on the off chance that, when Daisy wants to tell me what she heard me dreaming about, Cora thinks it’s a good idea to come hurtling into the room. About nothing specific, or urgent, or pressing. Nope, she just wanted to see us, which I would have loved, had Daisy not been describing, in detail, I might add, the way I’d moaned Tristan’s name loud enough that it woke her up.

And prompted the girls in the dorm up from us to bang on the wall.

Twice.

Ignoring the remnants of the second-hand embarrassment I’d feltthat morning, I slid all the way into the booth, curling up into the only bit of darkness that existed in this place, as Tristan slid in next to me.

I wasn’t even looking at him, my head in my hands to hide the shame,and I could tell he was trying to hide his smile, which prompted me to kick his foot under the table and mumble, “Don’t say anything.”

He snickered beside me, which only made his smile even moreobvious. “Ain’t got a clue what you're talking about, Gold’s.” He knew exactly what I was talking about. “You wait here; I’ll go get some coffee.”

I peeked up at him, catching his eyes barely as he scooted back out.“Thank you.”

But then Tristan leaned back, his face cringing as he craned hisneck. “But the queue is quite long; maybe tell me what you were dreaming about and that’ll keep me occupied—”

I threw my hands up. “Okay, that’s it. Have fun fending off theentire female population of Liberty.”

I tried to shuffle out of the booth but Tristan slid back in, hislaughs the sweetest I’d heard them. “I’m joking, Gold’s. Seriously, what do you want.”

I eyed him for a second, narrowing my stare slightly, before Tristanrushed his hands to cover his face. “Oh dear, God, it burns.” He muffled from behind his hands, coaxing a laugh out of me that had him peeling them away from his face, revealing a smile that made my insides all squirmy.

And before I could get in my head about that, I looked up to himand muttered, “Surprise me.”

He winked at me before he left, casual enough that I didn’t holdonto the thought of it, and while he was gone, I spent the entire time with my head in my hands, trying my absolute hardest not to think about the dream I had.

It was only two nights ago, after the day I stormed off from him inthe park, actually. And for whatever reason, I just couldn’t get him out of my mind.

If I’m being honest, I haven’t been able to stop thinking aboutTristan in a certain way since the night of the Moody Sunday’s concert. And every moment after that has only intensified these thoughts I was having.

I might have been clueless about the whole dating thing, but Iwasn’t a total airhead when it came to sex. I suppose that was the one thing that acting had done for me that I wasn’t that mad at. But just because I’d acted like I knew what I was doing, in the most PG13 way possible, that didn’t mean I’d ever done anything.

Which was what surprised me when I woke up the other morning tohear Daisy tell me what I was saying in my sleep, and as she did, little flashbacks and weak visions of what I’d dreamt projected in my mind. That was when Cora walked in, and before I knew it, we were having a sex-dream debrief on the floor of our dorm.

For Daisy and Cora, what I was telling them was probably nothing tostress about. After all, they thought me and Tristan were more than friends. The issue was that we weren’t. We werejustfriends. We agreed not to fall for each other because we didn’t make sense. Our relationship wasn’t real.

So what the fuck did it mean that if I was dreaming about Tristanand I having sex—

“Surprise.” Tristan’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and ontohim, standing at the end of the booth with a plate and two coffees in his hand. “The British girl at the counter said that this was your favourite combo.”

I looked up at him, taking in every detail of his face. His jaw thatwas sharp enough to slice the world in two, his hair that cascaded over his forehead and swept to the side, and the tattoos that I could see creeping out the neckline of his grey sweater.

Hmm, he looks kind of similar to how he did when he asked me how farI wanted to—

“Gold’s?”

“Hmm?” I mumble, bringing my eyes back into focus, in time for himto gesture to the plate of whatever he’d brought back and the coffee nestled between his fingers. “Oh, thank you.” I rushed, scooting over so he could slide back in and claim his spot back.

“So,” he said as he settled, waves of whatever manly aftershave hewas wearing rolling over me before he slid the plate with a custard tart in the centre over to me. “Did I do alright, choosing this place?”

I nodded, clearing my head from what was trying to exist up there.“It’s perfect. Flo’s is one of the only places in the city where I feel at home when I’m so far away from mine.” I chuckled. “Plus, if this was a real date then Flo, or Cora or Rory aren’t too far away to save me if I mess up and embarrass myself.”

He shook his head. “You won’t need saving,” Tristan slips the strawof his coffee between his lips, taking a sip before he suddenly stretches his arm over the booth behind my head, my cheeks reddening as I look over to him. He tilts his head. “For the act, Gold’s.”

The act. Right.

I tried to calm my breaths, knowing all too well that just because he had his arm around me, skimming shoulders, he couldn't tell how quicks my breaths were, but if I didn't slow them, I'd only work myself up more.

I took a long, deep breath before I shuffled to him, ignoring how close that left our faces. "So, Liberty." I croaked, looking everywhere but his eyes that I knew were on me. "How are you finding it now the first few weeks are over?"

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