We took turns exchanging loud groans as the kiss deepened and then lightened over and over again in the most amazing repetitive cycle of all time. His hands were clamped onto my hips, keeping me from falling over or scooting forward because all I really wanted right then was some good grinding action but he was too far away. Yoda's big head pushed at my leg, bringing us both out of the tongue-induced daze we were in. I couldn't help but be glad that Tristan had shaved so he didn't really much more than a little bit of scruff, otherwise my face would be irritated as hell.

He smiled at me in such a seductive way that I didn't know how I restrained myself from grabbing his hand and dragging him upstairs. He pecked me on the corner of the mouth before he patted Yoda on his big, square head and turned back to face the lasagna he had left on top of the stove. "You're going to be the death of me," he sighed loudly.

"Shut up," I said while licking my lips to soak up the moisture he left there.

I got up and took out forks and plates to set on the kitchen island where we usually ate. Filling up two glasses with ice and water, I plopped down and waited for him to finish serving two big slices of lasagna onto plates and adding salad onto the other side. Tristan slid a plate toward me while he sat down. He looked at me and then down, before hooking his foot around the supporting piece of metal between the two front legs of the stool under me, pulling me closer to him.

We grinned at each other but didn't say anything while we ate in silence. Halfway through our serving, Tristan started clearing his throat while looking up at me from under those borderline girlish and insanely long eyelashes. "I was thinking..." he trailed off.

"That's rare," I snorted, only to have him flick my arm in response lightly.

The minute he opened his mouth to respond, my phone began to ring obnoxiously loud from the living room. I shot him a look before hopping off the stool and running to answer the call before the caller hung up. Fishing it out of my purse, I made a face at the screen when I read 'Kieran' displayed. It's been days since our date, and with the newest and biggest distraction in my life‚ I hadn't given much thought to the cute Irishman. Well, when I thought about it, I hadn't given him a single second of my mind since then.

Pressing the button to answer the call, I glanced in the direction of the kitchen before speaking. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Kieran," the smooth voice on the other end replied.

"Hi Kieran, how are you?" I looked toward the open layout of the kitchen to make sure that Tristan wasn't eavesdropping even though I was positive that he was doing so.

"Good, thank you. I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to call you sooner—," he said.

I smirked to myself before sitting on the couch. "It's fine."

"Oh, okay," he paused for a moment, allowing me to imagine him blushing on the other end. "I was wondering if you were free anytime soon?"

Ohhh. While my stomach didn't drop at his question, I felt bad. He seemed like such a nice guy, and if the jackass in the kitchen hadn’t have gotten his shit together since our last fated date, then I would probably be heading on another date with Kieran. But I wasn't. No square inch of me wanted another date with him now that Tristan and I seemed to be somewhat on the same page. I didn't want to be a bitch, or string him along just to avoid telling him that I was seeing someone else just a few days later. Ugh.

"Umm," I giggled nervously, wracking my brain for ideas and coming up with nothing. "I know we just went out, but..." I groaned, feeling like a huge bitch. "I started seeing someone."

"Well," he chuckled but I could hear the tension in his voice. "I understand."