"Hmm?" My eyes were still glued to the expanse of peachy skin he had exposed.

His large, calloused hand stroked my cheek with a tenderness I'd never felt before. It was enough to make my sight depart from its current residence on the trail of dark hair that led underneath the cotton of his sweatpants. "I just want you to know that I'm dead serious about what I told you last night, okay? You're all I want, and I don't want anything to make you think otherwise."

I took his words and stitched them onto my heart while we showered separately and got ready to head out for breakfast. Tristan dyed his hair while in the bathroom and came out with his mop of black strands for Robby Lingus' short and last stint at the porn convention we were heading to. The whole atmosphere between us was different. It was almost like we had this nice, warm bubble wrapped around us that we used to shield us from the pollution we were heading to. He held my hand walking down the elevator, in the car, into the diner for breakfast, and back in the car. His long fingers reassured my shorter ones constantly. The rough and strong tips of his digits grazed the skin on the inside of my wrist and palm in sensual strokes that made me blush.

I didn't want to constantly keep reminding myself that this thing between us was real, but I had to. I was never blessed with the best of luck, so how could I manage to get this sudden oncoming of greatness? Tristan was not just the most attractive man I'd ever seen, but he was smart, funny, and a little loony. Best of all, he understood me. Every time I thought that, I had to be my own cheerleader and remind myself that I was attractive, smart, funny, and a little loony too. I couldn't sell myself short either despite how much the little voice in the back of my head wanted me to.

"Are you ready?" he asked, as he parked the rental car in an empty spot. His green eyes looked a little wider than normal as they looked at me for confirmation.

I allowed myself to nod in response while he slipped his reading glasses on. We got out and walked toward the entrance at the side of the convention center. Tristan had our passes in hand, both of which spelled out Performer on the credentials in nice, big, block letters for the entire world to see. I groaned when the security guard made me put it around my neck before allowing us to go in. As soon as we were through the doors, my hand was wrapped up in a much larger one, reassuringly. I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting, maybe massive orgies going on or at least a few practice blow jobs in front of an audience but that definitely wasn't what was there. A few dozen people walked through the hallways that comprised the backstage area, a few of the women weren't wearing very many clothes but it wasn't extreme or provocative.

"Not what you were expecting?" Tristan's low voice questioned me just a few inches from my ear.

I shook my head and grinned at him sheepishly. I hated that he had an idea what I was thinking. "Nope. I thought for sure I'd see some butt sex going on."

He choked. A big choke that led him to start coughing so loud a ton of people turned around to look at him. His normally perfect, evenly toned face was bright red and his eyes seemed to be bulging out of their sockets. "Do you want to see that?"

I started laughing and squeezed his hand before the man I'd met a couple months before came strolling up to Tristan's red face and my amused one. His beady eyes darted between our clasped hands like a vulture would zero in on a dead deer, and it was really freaking creepy.

"Tristan," his icy voice cut through my laugh when he stopped right in front of us. His eyes kept bouncing from my hand, to his, and then back.

"Hey Walter, you've met Kat," the stud muffin holding my hand said in a voice warm enough to melt through his manager's freezing tone.