Lovely Trigger(58)

I was somewhat appeased, and curious about something he’d said. “Butt implants? You’re making that up. No one would actually do that.”

“I don’t get it either, but they do.”

“How is that even possible? How could someone get an implant in a spot that they sit on? Doesn’t that seem like a bad idea? What if you sat down too hard and popped the implants? What if you fall and land on your ass?”

He laughed. “I have no clue; I just know it’s a thing.”

We walked on for a bit, when he said suddenly, “Close your eyes. This is the fun part.”

I squealed as he grabbed me by the waist, setting me up on his shoulders like it took no effort at all.

I clutched at his head and closed my eyes, but I’d already seen what was coming.

“Keep your mouth closed,” he said, a smile in his voice. “And your eyes.”

That was easier said than done. When someone threw colored powder at you, it was hard not to gasp.

When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was pink.

I was pink.

I looked down to find Tristan’s head and the rest of him, pink.

“How many paint throwing stations are on this thing?” I asked him, laughing.

“At least five on the way, and I think it’s a free for all at the end.”

“You know I saw this coming, right? If you thought you were pranking me, you failed. It’s called a Color 5k for Charity. Wasn’t hard to figure out.”

He squeezed my leg, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “It wasn’t a prank, it was a pleasant surprise. You’re having fun though, right?”

I glanced down at us, at me, getting a ride on the broad set of shoulders that I dreamed about, my hands free to roam all over that beloved head, and covered in pink powder.

Yes, I was having fun. It was a perfect day, and even me, the Queen of Denial, could not deny that Tristan had waltzed back into my life, and brought my joy back with him.

I shifted on his shoulders, stroking his hair. “Yes, Tristan, I’m having fun.”

He turned his head, kissing my bad knee, one hand moving up to start rubbing at it. And just as though our thoughts were as interwoven as our souls, he said quietly, “You make me happy. You know that, right?”

I teared up and cursed about it, because tears would leave obvious tracks down my powder-covered face.

“Don’t,” I said weakly.

“Don’t what? Be happy? I can’t help it when you’re in my life.

I took a few deep, steadying breaths, hand to my racing heart. He was relentless.

When I’d been silent for a long time, he took pity on me and changed the subject.

We were pelted with yellow at the next paint station. I rubbed it into his hair, saying, “Dammit, I really wanted some pictures of you covered in just the pink. For blackmail purposes.”

“Boo, you can take pictures of me buried in your pink anytime you like.”

I pulled his hair for that one.

“I need to give you fair warning. I ran into Natalie earlier, before the race, so she’s here somewhere.”

I stiffened. “Twatalie Natalie? She’s still hanging around?”

I felt his shoulders shift under my thighs. He was getting uncomfortable, which made me stiffen even more.

“She works at the casino. Has for years. She bartends at Decadence on the weekends, and I think she’s a cocktail waitress in the casino a few days a week. She’s mellowed out some, but she can still be a handful, thus the warning.”

“So you and her are still close, huh?”

I felt him sigh under me. “No, we’re not. We’re friendly enough, when we run into each other, but that’s about it. She gave up on getting me back a long time ago.”

“I always wondered if you two would get back together if you and I broke up.”

“Well, there’s your answer. No chance in hell.”

“Not even one hookup?”

“Fuck no. Not a chance. You happy or sad that you were so wrong?”

I made a noise of noncommittal, but I was pretty damned ecstatic about it.

“She did come up in therapy a few times, mostly because my relationship with her pointed to the fact that back when we were teenagers, I wanted to save her more than I wanted to be happy. Savior complex, my therapist called it.”

My chest was tight. “Is that how you felt about you and me? Were you trying to save me?”

He turned his head and kissed my knee again. “God no. You’ve got that so twisted. You were the one saving me. Always.”

I closed my eyes and let that wash over me. The only thing that brought me out of it was some bright blue colored powder to the face.

“So Mona and Natalie are both going to be at the after party for this thing?” I finally asked him.

“Yes. If it makes you feel better, I think Natalie hates Mona even more than she hated you.”

That did not make me feel better. In terms of things in the world that didn’t make me feel better, that one got a top spot.

I made him put me down and walked briskly for the next few paint stations.

He ignored my protests, throwing me back on his shoulders to cross the colorful finish line, dragging me to one of the pack of color throwers, holding still until every inch of us was drenched.