His calloused index finger made a hot trail across the forearm closest to him, before continuing its path upward over the tops of my arms to brush the strap of my new Universal tank top. "I'm glad you came with me this weekend, goldie," his deep voice said to me.

I winked at him, because the weekend had been a ton of fun minus the porn slut and the two girls. "Me too, thanks for inviting me."

He smiled, this sweet crooked thing that made my heart stutter in its cage of bones. One of his hands reached up to pinch my earlobe between two fingers. "I had a lot of fun," he said. "Even though you squealed like a little girl on each ride."

I scoffed and shook my head, knowing he was out of his mind. "I'm pretty sure that was you squealing like a pig on each ride, Mister I-Have-An-Upset-Tummy. Pansy."

"I think you may have hit your head a little hard," he grinned.

"You're lucky I didn't hit you in the head on Saturday after the convention," I muttered before I realized what I said. It was the truth. I just didn't want to bring up what had happened that day because I knew he was stressed enough about the girls thinking he looked familiar.

He sighed, wariness filling the specks of gold in his green eyes. "I'm sorry, Kat. I know it's hard to be with me because of Robby..."

My heart clenched at his words. I felt like a total bitch, because he felt bad for who he'd been and what he'd done in the past. I knew Tristan for all his jokes and sweetness was tender hearted. For years, he had put a block to prevent others from getting into his heart and he'd let me into his life. If I were to reject him, to make him feel bad for his past, I know it would hurt him deeply. Fortunately for him — well for us really — as much as the porn and Robby Lingus bothered me, I couldn't hold it against him. We'd all done stupid things in our past that we weren't exactly proud of.

Like the video I knew I needed to tell him about at some point.

Fucking shit.

"Hey, don't worry about it." I gave him a gentle smile. "It's a little weird but we'll figure it out."

He pinched my earlobe again. "It's done now at least. You didn't get too upset that day, right?"

The reminder of what happened Saturday tugged at my nerves. I had never been the jealous type but over the last day and a half, when I'd catch an attractive female looking at Tristan, I'd wonder if he had been with her at some point and couldn't remember doing it. My skin itched. I genuinely had no interest in knowing exactly how many people he had been with before me, not that I technically counted because he hadn't fermented my flower yet. I wasn't naive enough to believe that he was anywhere near my single digit number but the acceptance still ate away at me just a little.

Each time I'd even slightly drift off into that train of thought, he would pinch my side, pull my hair, or kiss me. The more time we spent together, the more it became clear to me that he knew my moods. Not even my last longtime boyfriend knew half as much about me as Magellan did. I knew I was overreacting by making those assumptions, but I forgot about them as soon as he started picking on me.

"I was a little," I squeaked out, keeping my eyes on the finger resting on my shoulder. "I'm fine though."

Tristan rolled his eyes and leaned closer to me, pink lips just inches away from my own. "You can ask me anything, Kat." The rough pad of his finger traced a line from my shoulder across to my throat, slowly. "I'll always tell you the truth."

His words wrapped me up in warmth, and I couldn't help the small smile that came across my face. There were very few people in my life that I trusted and I readily believed, but this man was one of them. He cared for me, he was honest with me, and he understood me. Tristan was my easiest friendship. I had no reason to doubt him, and I hoped I never would.