Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(28)

“You should make a pass at him,” Candy said.

“I’d make a pass at him,” Harriet said. “In fact, I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Sandra shook her head. “He only dates supermodels with legs that go up to their tits, or playboy models with tits that go up to their chins.”

“Just go for it,” Harriet said. “What have you got to lose?”

“Um, her job,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Harriet and Candy were funny as hell, but not the ones to take advice from. Their brand of outrageous would not work for everybody. It backfired on them half the time.

“Dating the boss rarely turns out well,” Lucy pointed out reasonably.

“I wasn’t saying she should date him,” Harriet defended. “I was saying she should bone his pretty brains out.”

“Arguably an even worse idea,” Lucy mused.

Sandra held up a hand. “Settle down everybody. He’s not interested in me, so it’s not even a question. I just like to vent about how f*cking hot he is.”

“Amen, sister,” Candy said, toasting the air again.

I raised my glass, as well. I could toast to that. “To hot men who we don’t need to f*ck to appreciate,” I said.

I got a few startled glances for that unexpected outburst, but everyone toasted with me.

“Are you just speaking in general?” Lucy asked, tilting her head to study me. “That sounded a little specific.”

“Oh, it’s specific,” Sandra slurred. “James f*cking Cavendish is specifically the hottest man alive.”

Bev giggled. Uh oh, I thought. She was tipsy if she was giggling. “Wait until you get a load of Danika’s friend, Tristan,” she said. “He could give Boss Cavendish a run for his money, and he and Danika have crazy chemistry.”

“The f*ck you say?” Candy inquired, looking very interested.

“Why you holding out, Danika?” Harriet questioned, her words slurred.

“Who’s this Tristan?” Lucy asked, and I saw by the way she was studying me that she was already worried.

I hitched one shoulder up in a self-conscious shrug. “He’s strictly a buddy. Bev is just drunk.”

Bev nodded. Very drunkenly, I thought.

“Is he hot, though?” Olga asked, her accent even more pronounced now that she’d had a few drinks.

“He’s very good looking,” I allowed. “And he has a great sense of humor. And he’s super tall, with biceps the size of my waist.” I held my hands out in a circle to show them how big. “And he’s really nice. And don’t even get me started on his dimples.” After about the second sentence, I started to realize that I was feeling really pretty. Dammit, how many drinks had I had? It was hard to count, when Bev was constantly bringing a new glass, and I had no idea just how strong the cocktail was.

“You sound like you admire him,” Lucy pointed out. “But you say it’s purely platonic?”

“I’m attracted to him, and I love being around him, but I have every intention of keeping it purely platonic.”

I must have sounded a touch defensive, because Lucy wasn’t the only woman in the room that didn’t look convinced.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





I was in the kitchen, replenishing the snack trays, when I saw that I’d missed three calls.

I’d left my phone on the counter, and I grabbed it, a little too eager to see who had called.

I felt a ridiculous amount of disappointment when I saw that they were all from my ex, or Daryl the Dickhead, as I liked to think of him.

It was silly to expect Tristan to call me, just because we’d been apart for a few hours. Lucy’d hit it right on the head about my co-dependency issues.

My phone dinged a text at me, and I was disappointed yet again when I saw that it was a text from Daryl.





Daryl: I miss you, baby. Why you ignoring my calls?





I felt my lip curl up in disgust. The bastard had a nerve.

I started to respond before I remembered that texting back, no matter what I said, only ever encouraged him.

Two things happened at once.

“Is that asshat bothering you again?” Candy shouted from the living room, right as the front door opened.

I looked up to see that Tristan had just walked in, and all of the women were watching me. That quickly changed, and I could have been happy that the potentially awkward conversation about my ex had been avoided, except that Tristan had apparently heard her comment, and although the women’s attention had shifted to focus on him, his was very much focused on me.

“Who’s bothering you? What’s going on?” he asked, striding straight to the kitchen. He’d obviously taken Candy’s comment way too seriously.

“Um, no one. Nothing’s going on. Why are you home so early? Shouldn’t you still be working?”

He shrugged, his eyes going to the phone still in my hand. “I ducked out early. Is it that * ex of yours calling you again? I’m seriously going to kick his ass if he doesn’t leave you alone.”

I set my phone down on the counter, folding my arms across my chest. I saw his eyes go to my bared stomach, and I was gratified as he swallowed hard before looking back at my face.