Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2)(61)

She shook her head quickly, eyes wide, lips pursed. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. He’s not like that. But he’s lonely, I can tell. How long will he be lonely before he caves to temptation over there? Every man has needs.”

My jaw clenched. I loved my sister, but I hated that she assumed that she somehow knew Tristan better than I did, that she somehow had an intuition into his needs that I did not.

“Thanks for your concern,” I told her, trying hard to keep my tone nice, “but it’s my job to see to Tristan’s needs, and if you’ll notice, he’s not complaining. As soon as they get this record done, he’ll be back in town, and everything will be back to normal. We just have a few more weeks left of the long distance relationship.”

My mind avoided the fact that we’d been saying this for months now.

She didn’t look convinced, and I wondered why she needed to be. How did any of this affect her, and why did she feel the need to make it her business? I was getting more agitated by the second.

“And what about when the band goes on tour, to promote the new album? How will things work out then? Would you go with them?”

I blinked. I hadn’t heard anything about a tour from Tristan, though I had heard it mentioned. “Go with them?” I repeated blankly. “Well no, I wouldn’t go with them. I have too much going on here. I couldn’t just quit school, quit working, quit everything to go on tour with them. The idea is ludicrous.”

“I’d do it,” she said passionately.

My hands clenched.

She continued, “I’d do whatever it took to keep a guy like Tristan, even if it meant leaving my whole life behind. Don’t you think he’s worth it?”

It was a much stronger effort this time to keep my tone polite. “I know better than anyone what he’s worth. He means the world to me, but he wouldn’t ask me to do something like that. And besides, he hasn’t said a word to me about the band going on tour.”

She shot a pointed look Tristan’s way. His back was to us as he cooked, oblivious to our conversation, in the kitchen.

“Well, you should ask him about it. I don’t know why he hasn’t told you, but the band is planning a three month tour just as soon as they finish recording.”

“Three months?” I burst out, loud enough to turn Tristan’s head. He shot me a questioning glance, but I just shook my head. I’d bring it up to him later. It would be ideal if we could have that conversation when we were alone.

I gave Dahlia a rather stiff smile. “He and I can discuss it later. Let’s you and I find something else to talk about, huh?”

Tristan made us enchiladas, which he knew were my favorite.

I set the table, getting all three of us tall glasses of ice water.

He brought the bottle of Jack to the table, pouring himself a generous amount. He’d been much better in general since the pregnancy, but his drinking was hitting new levels.

I stared at the bottle. The drinking was becoming more and more troublesome. There was a time when what I thought was his occasional, casual drug use bothered me the most, but the drinking seemed, to me, to be turning into the bigger problem.

“Just to take the edge off,” he explained with a charming smile, flashing me his most dangerous dimples.

I thought about how he hadn’t used to need to take the edge off around me. It used to be just my company was enough to do that, especially for an evening spent at home.

We ate, and the food was wonderful. I wondered how it was that none of Tristan’s cooking ever seemed to set off what seemed to be my constant nausea.

I lasted until dessert before I had to ask, but it was a struggle. “So what’s this I hear about a three month tour?”

Tristan froze, a spoonful of chocolate cake halfway to his mouth. He set it down, looking sheepish, then stern as he shot Dahlia a reprimanding look.

Now that I didn’t like. If they had spent enough time together to have some sort of silent language, that wasn’t good for my peace of mind. What the hell was going on here?

“The record producer is trying to put something together, but I haven’t signed on. I haven’t committed to anything yet. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I was going to ask you what you thought about it.”

“You know, it’s funny how you always say you don’t know what you’ll do, but you always seem to do whatever the hell they ask you to. I’m thinking you have your decision already, you just don’t want to tell me, because you know it’s a terrible idea, and I won’t approve.”

His hand covered my clenched one on the table. “Sweetheart, my decision is made, now. I can see that you don’t like the idea, so I won’t do it. Simple as that. Like I said, I’d never agreed to it. It was just something that the record producer wanted to do. I have no problem saying no.”

He sounded so convincing that I let myself be convinced.

Dahlia wound up crashing on the couch, rather than driving all the way back home late at night, and it wasn’t until Tristan and I were alone in the bathroom adjoining his room, brushing our teeth, that I brought it up again. “Why didn’t you tell me you had met each other? Why would you keep that from me?”

He spat, setting his toothbrush down, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “I didn’t want to worry you.”