Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(88)

I sighed. "Trystan. I know I was wrong. I labeled you wrong from the start. You aren't a shallow, serial dater. At least, you don't mean to be. You were afraid of being rejected. So you stayed in control the only way you knew how—by never getting close."

"You know I'm afraid of being rejected. Yet here I fucking stand."

I winced. "But I labeled myself wrong too," I continued, trying to say my piece while I had the courage. "I never realized how afraid I was of being vulnerable again. And I was with you. I am with you. So vulnerable. You've blown through layers of me to a core I've spent since childhood protecting. And it happened before I even realized you did it."

Trystan touched my chin, asking me to look at him. But I had to look away from the intensity in his eyes, suddenly feeling like I'd admitted too much. "I've learned the hard way," I continued with difficulty, "that just because someone makes you feel happy, or safe and secure, or protected, doesn't mean you are." I swallowed. "I'm sorry. I—I don't think I'm ready to trust those things. It took meeting you to realize I have major issues."

"Take a chance, Emmy. Please."

I lowered my chin, refusing to look at him. With my eyes closed I could focus on his delicious woodsy smell and the feel of his hands on the skin of my legs. "I'm scared," I admitted. “Because God, I want to take a chance so badly.”

"Me too."

I sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"Emmy—"

When I heard him cut himself off, I looked up automatically. He bit his teeth together and then breathed in through his nose deeply.

Eventually he squeezed his eyes closed for long moments. When they opened and found me, he seemed calm.

He cleared his throat. "Can we be scared together?"





41





Emmy





Trystan dropped his forehead to rest against mine, and I looped my arms around his tense shoulders.

“Yes,” I said finally. “Okay. Let’s be scared together.” I lifted my face.

“Thank Christ, Emmy.” He breathed the words against my lips.

“But—” I started.

“I know,” Trystan said. “Slow.”

I pulled back, bemused. “How did you know that’s what I was going to say?”

His shoulders lifted slightly. “We’ve done everything backward.”

I tap my finger on my chin. “What comes first? Kissing? Let’s do more of it. Right now, if possible.”

He chuckled. “I was thinking more of you inviting me in for a drink so we can get to know each other more.”

“You’re already in. For someone who doesn’t date, you seem to have a pretty set idea of how it’s supposed to go.”

He let go of me and slapped a hand to his forehead. “And I still got it wrong. We have to have the date first before you invite me in.”

“Good point.”

His brow furrowed. “So when can I see you?”

I glanced around the room. “Now?”

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I pressed my palm to his forehead.

“Hey, I can go slow. If I have to.”

“That’s not slow, it’s glacial.” I huffed with disappointment. “And you don’t have to go that slow.”

“Actually, I was thinking I could take you to the airport to get David.”

I licked my lips. “That . . . that might be really nice. Not your typical date though.”

“But there’s nothing typical about us. And I’m thinking it’s a pretty big day. I’d like to be there for you. But also, it might be good for me to see what the transition is like and be a fly on the wall at one of the facilities I own.”

“Spy on them, you mean?” I arch an eyebrow.

His lips quirked. “Sort of.”

“How romantic.”

“Right? I thought it was the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had.”

I punched his arm softly, laughing. “Jerk.”

“I can buy you an airport coffee.”

“You just keep coming up with winners.”

Trystan’s lips settled on mine for another round of soft and slow kisses.

“They are going to be insufferable, by the way,” I muttered when we broke apart again.

“Who?”

“Armand and Annie. They’ll take full responsibility for us.”

He squeezed my knee. The soft lighting made his hair and eyes darker. “Us. I like that. And I don’t care.”

I couldn’t look away from him. I couldn’t believe I was jumping into this with him. “Me too,” I said, grinning. “And since you are already in, can I offer you a drink? I may have a couple of those beers left if you didn’t drink them all.”

“Sure. That’d be good.”

He stepped back, and I hopped off the counter and got him a cold beer. Grabbing my glass of wine, we went to sit on the couch. I curled up on one end, expecting him to go to the other.

“This is . . .”

“Weird,” he said.

“Yeah.”