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

“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 ass**le 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.

“The first time you’ve had a paying gig all week, and you ditch out? Are you like, allergic to work?”

I’d been trying to distract him from talking about my ex, and it worked like a charm, for all of ten seconds.

He laughed, moving into the kitchen.

He grabbed my phone off the counter before I saw his intent.

“So rude,” I told him. “How would you like it if I started snooping through your phone?”

He didn’t look up from my phone as he reached into his pocket and handed me his. “Go for it, boo.”

“Boo?” Candy called from the living room, sounding amused.

I’d forgotten that we weren’t alone, which said a lot about how much Tristan distracted me.

I set his phone on the counter, folding my arms across my chest, and giving him a very unfriendly look.

He didn’t look up, scrolling through my phone. I saw his jaw clench right before he brought the phone to his ear.

Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen, through the dining room, opened the sliding glass door, and walked outside.

I followed him, wondering what the hell he was up to.

“Is this Daryl?” he said into my phone.

My jaw dropped.

He paused for a long moment, and whatever Daryl was saying was loud, because I could hear his voice from several feet away, though I couldn’t make out a word of what he was saying.

“Who I am is the guy who is going to kick your f**king ass if you don’t leave her alone. One more phone call, one more text, so much as a f**king email, and I will find you. Do you understand?”

He paused again, and I could hear that Daryl was yelling on the other end of the line. “It doesn’t sound like you’re understanding what I’m saying. How about I come over to your house, and we can talk about it in person? Hell yeah, call the cops. Cops or no, I can guarantee that I will mess you up before they can take me away. I’m a very close friend of Danika’s, and I take my friendships very seriously. Now do you understand? Lose her f**king number.”