Page 70 of Lust
Three simple words.
I love you.
When we were young, Mom forced us to say those three words after our fights. Later, it became our norm to say ‘I love you’ every time we made up.
We had exchanged those words millions of times throughout our lifetime. I never realized until now that Tristan never said it to anyone else, not even his own mother.
I stared at him blankly, trying to digest. “W-What! How?” I had never interrogated him about his feelings, I realized.
“I’m a man, Sara. A man who isn’t related to you by blood. I spent years watching you, falling for you. You did the same. Did you not think I’d notice how closely you watched me day and night? Even at that fundraiser, you were watchingmeinstead of your date.”
I searched his face, trying to find any truth to his words. “I watched you because we were rivals, and I wanted to anticipate your next move.”
“You watched me because you couldn’t look away. You played pranks on me to get my attention, the same reason I did it. You wanted me to notice you.”
He rolled off me before gathering me in his arms. It was odd to be in a post-coitus cuddle after our heated exchange from moments ago, but whiplash was the one thing that felt familiar between us.
“Did you always feel this way?” I asked suddenly.
Tris scoffed, matting my hair down. “No. I remember a time when I only saw you as my bratty sister and the exact moment those brotherly feelings died off.”
“When did it start?”
“My feelings for you?”
I nodded. “When did you start feeling this way?”
“A little while ago, Angel,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “Before it was appropriate for me to look at you in that way.”
“It’s still inappropriate for you to notice me,” I pointed out. When he remained evasive, I urged, “Tell me.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I-I want to understand.”
Tris shook his head. “You were too young for the kind of attention and desire I had developed. It was sick; I knew it. I tried to stay away, but… I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Please tell me.” Because I really needed to understand this fucked up thing brewing between us.
He gave in with a resigned sigh, pulling me to his chest.
Four Years Ago
* * *
Glowering at the luxurious home in the heart of Georgetown, I yawned with my arms outstretched. It had been two long years since I last visited. I should have come home for Christmas or over the summer. However, the last two years of law school had been a real bitch, and the eight-hour drive was hardly a breeze.
My parents visited me twice in that time and had been holding a grudge over my extended absence. I was about to receive the admonishment of the century. I’d much rather sneak inside to avoid the encounter altogether and faceplant on my bed instead.
The only folly in my carefully laid out scheme was a sight in the distance. When I caught the movement through the corner of my eyes, my gaze snapped in the direction of our porch.
An unknown figure was gracing this undeserving earth with her divine presence, taunting the already limited skills I possessed of denying myself instant gratification.
Who in the hell?
My mother, a self-proclaimed matchmaker, loved to set me up with a plethora of her friends’ daughters. She was on the warpath to secure me a match before my first ballot at the elections. This was most likely another one of Mary’s attempts to find the ‘love of my life.’
Usually, Mom’s matchmaking habits irritated me to all hell. This time, it merely gave me pause.
