Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(45)

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

I was just hanging up when I caught sight of the sliding glass door opening, a rough looking Tristan stepping outside.

He was the picture of remorse as he approached me, giving me an endearing smile that made my heart twist. “I slept in. I didn’t mean to. I promised you breakfast. How can I make it up to you?”

I shook my head, waving that off and trying not to feel horrible about going out with his brother. All of my reactions were off when it came to Tristan. I should not have felt so broken up about the fact that he had slept with some random girl last night, and I should not feel guilty about spending time with his brother. But, strictly friends or not, I felt both.

“I am fully capable of making breakfast,” I told him.

“I know, but I still wish I hadn’t slept in. I like doing nice things for you. I like spoiling you. I like doing anything at all for you, as long as it makes you smile.”

I looked down, pretending to study my phone, blinking back ridiculous tears.

“What would you like to do tonight?” he asked, moving as close as he could get to me through the opening in the tree house. “I’m getting my car back today, so we can go anywhere. I’ll let you pick this time, and I’ll drive. We’ll go wherever you like and I’ll treat.”

I swallowed. “I have plans, actually. Maybe another night.” It hadn’t felt nearly as good as I’d thought it would to turn him down.

“Oh?” he inquired, still smiling. “Another girls’ night so soon?”

“No, not that. That’s not for a few days. I’m just going out…with a friend.”

“A friend? Just one? She can come with us, or I could tag along with you.”

“It’s…not like that. It’s just a dinner thing, with a friend. Just the two of us.”

His smile died, his brows drawing together, though his expression was still just curious. “Who’s this friend?”

I shrugged.

“Is this a girl friend or a guy friend?” he asked, just as though he had the right.

I cleared my throat. “It’s a guy, though it’s not a big deal. Like I said, we’re just going out to dinner.”

He nodded, rubbing his jaw and looking at his feet. “It’s not your ex, is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low.

“It’s not,” I rushed to answer, a little defensive because I had considered that idea, albeit briefly.

“Just a friend, huh?” he asked blandly.

“Yep.”

“So why does it have to be just the two of you? That seems more like a date to me.”

I felt my temper rise a bit. “What if it was a date? Would there be something wrong with that?”

He moved into the small opening, bringing his face close. I was sitting cross-legged, and his hand found my knee, squeezing lightly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to date for a while? Didn’t Lucy tell you that you should avoid that for now, and didn’t you agree with her?”

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to nag each other? Wasn’t that on our stupid list?”

“There’s a difference between nagging, and expressing concern.”

“Now you sound like Lucy,” I said dryly.

“Who is this guy you’re going out with tonight? Why have I never heard about these plans until today?”

I hated, absolutely despised, that he sounded like a concerned parent just then. “How about we add this to our list? I don’t get to ask you about who you f*cked last night, and you don’t get to ask me who I go out with.”

He looked around, eyes wide. “Watch the language. The kids.”

The boys had moved on as soon as we’d started having grown up talk. They were currently wrestling with Pupcake in the sandbox by the fence.

“You should f*cking talk,” I pointed out sharply.

“I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

He had a point. He’d improved his language around the kids faster than anyone could have predicted.

“Fine, I’ll drop it,” he said, his tone dark. “What time is he picking you up?”

“I’m meeting him somewhere at nine.”

“That seems late. And he can’t even be bothered to pick you up? You can do better, boo.”

“You’re an ass,” I told him, taking exception to the bite in his tone. “It was my idea to meet up.”

“Hiding him from me? You worried I’ll scare him off?”

I let out a noise of frustration through my teeth, wanting to throttle him.

“Sorry. I am being an ass. I’m just feeling, I don’t know…overprotective? The thought of you being alone with some strange guy makes me…worry.”

“Well, don’t. Where I’m concerned, all the damage has already been done. There’s nothing left to protect me from.”

He’d begun to back off, but at my words, he moved close again, studying my face, that big warm hand back on my leg. “What on earth does that mean?”

I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t believe I’d said something like that, and to him. Already, there was sympathy in his voice, enough sympathy to have me blinking back tears. I hated sympathy, but was somehow always strongly affected by it. “It’s nothing. Certainly nothing you want to hear about.”