I chose to ignore the fact that I'd be forced to probably look from afar as a bunch of women threw themselves at Robby Lingus one last time.

Plus, I couldn't help but get a little excited that he was inviting me to go somewhere away with him. I think my vag screamed in excitement.

"Make it Universal Studios and I'm in."

Chapter 46

Before I knew it, it was Thursday of the following week, and I was sitting on Tristan's bed, watching him pack to go be Robby Lingus one last time. According to him, for the very last time. I'd been so busy finishing up my book over the course of the last week and helping Nicole choose her wedding dress, that time flew by. My mornings were spent with Zoey at the gym or in yoga class, my afternoons at the apartment writing, and my evenings and nights were a solid mixture of Tristan and my three closest friends.

My relationship, or whatever it technically was, with Tristan made me beyond happy. Friendship with him was easy and seamless to begin with and now with the addition of welcomed touches and kisses, our time together was just that much better. Our words together were the same, it was just our interactions that were different. He never asked for more than my mouth. My mouth on his mouth to be specific and I kind of liked it a lot.

It made me feel special to know that he wasn't just trying to get into my pants. For someone who hadn't been in a real relationship in maybe six years, I had to be a little wary of his intentions with me. The last two girls he 'dated' weren't exactly girlfriends I liked to think, because you couldn't be in a real relationship with someone if they didn't know your real name, right?

I also wanted him to know in case he didn't already, that I liked him for his personality; I liked his laugh, his snort, his hands, his humor, his stupidity, his love for Yoda, and most days it seemed like the list was endless. I'd never had a boyfriend that I liked for reasons other than enjoying their personalities. One of my boyfriends, Christian, was a devout Catholic. Raised in a home with a father for a deacon, I knew from the beginning of our relationship that he was waiting to have sex until marriage. What's funny is that only three months later, he broke up with me because he thought we were getting too serious, and by that I mean that he came in his pants twice while we were just making out.

Something told me that if Tristan came while we made out, I would probably like him just as much if not more. Ha.

"Am I going to need a bathing suit?" the velvet voice asked me from across the room.

I was lying across his bed, belly down with my face cradled between my hands, watching him pack up for our trip the next day. Unlike the last minute mess that was getting ready before me, I had Nicole come over and help me pack the night before. According to her, I wouldn't have chosen the right thing to wear to get my ice cream sandwich eaten. To think that she was the most highly educated person I knew.

"Unless you're planning on going to the pool with me naked, then yes," I told him, trying to talk myself out of imagining him naked.

"No bathing suit it is then," he laughed, tossing the black board shorts onto the bed a foot away from me. He rifled through the drawers in the infamous condom dresser and pulled out a handful of t-shirts, making a strange noise deep in his throat with his back still turned to me. "Should I bring earplugs?"

"Why would you need them?"

He snorted and I should've known he was setting me up. "For your snoring, Sleeping Beauty."

"Shut up, jackass. I don't snore," I told him, throwing the board shorts he'd just tossed onto the bed on the floor.

Apple green eyes looked at me from over his shoulder, his mouth pulled back into a smirk. "You sound cute, it's fine. I just need to make sure your chainsaw noises won't keep me up all night," he snorted again. A few minutes of comfortable silence later, he spoke. "On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you about going to LA?"