"Well, there are two ways you can know it's me. One, I did something with you I've never done before. Hello, boob, tongue. And two, I know about your tattoo." Although I never had actually seen it in the darkness. Not that I wanted to.
There was silence again before he spoke up, his voice a rasp. "It is you then."
"Yep, it's me."
Another pause, this one shorter. "Why are you mad at me? Why did you rush out like that in the middle of the night?"
I didn't have a good answer for that, even though I'd known he'd probably ask it. "I'm not mad," I lied. "You just caught me at a weird time." That was a partial truth. My whole life was a weird time, right?
Let him chew on that.
It was like I could hear him thinking through that on the other end, and I wondered where he was. At his office on a Sunday like a typical workaholic? All comfortable at home like I was?
Last weekend, he'd mentioned the company staying at his place, and the sudden memory was a good way to get the focus off myself and avoid that other question about why I'd left.
"Are you still staying in a hotel? Or have you gone back home?" I asked, steering the conversation exactly where I wanted it to go.
Make him talk. Makehimopen up.
"I'm home now. My housekeeper went back to her place, and my—I'm never sure what to call her—but my father's ex left days ago."
"But your half-brother is still there?" I asked, curious despite myself.
"He is. I know I told you he's my half-brother, but I only did that to help clarify the situation for you. I usually just refer to him as my brother though."
Oh, that was kind of sweet. Or itseemedsweet, because we all knew that Tristan Hawthorne didn't have a sweet bone in his body. "Okay. Got it. What's his name?"
He grunted, a sound that somewhat resembled a reluctant laugh. "Archibald. Can you believe they gave him that name?"
That was just about the only thing in the world I could actually agree with him on."Poor kid."
"Right? He goes by Archie."
It was hard to be outright mean or rude to Tristan when we were talking about a kid. "That's much better."
"I agree."
"Is he staying with you for a while?"
"Yeah, I think so. I hope so."
He hoped so? He actually wanted his teenage brother to stay with him? This was a turn of events I hadn't been prepared for. "You like having him there?" I asked, incredulous.
His laughter reached my ears. "Most of the time, yeah. There are certainly occasions where I question my sanity for wanting a teenager in my home, but for the most part, he's a good kid. And he needs..."
My curiosity had definitely been piqued. "He needs what?"
"Well, he could use a stable home life."
Tristan Hawthorne thought he could provide a stable home life for a kid? What was this world coming to? It didn't make any sense whatsoever.
"And you think you can give him that?" I asked, not able to hide the skepticism from my voice.
His easy laughter surprised me once again. "Hey, what are you trying to say? What part of our night together gave you the impression that I was irresponsible?"
I had to think. Because it wasn't the way he'd acted that night, but his past that had given me that impression. And obviously, I could never let him know I knew him from before.
"Ahh," he said, his voice dropping, all sin and silk. "It was that one thrust without a condom, wasn't it? The one you begged me for, if I recall."
