I thought and thought some more.

Chapter 53

That night, I went over to his house for dinner. I’d tried to figure out why the intensity between us felt so altered all of a sudden. We had only technically been together for three weeks, but we'd been friends for a multiplied version of that time. I'd cared for him for months, even before he was really my friend. I mean, who else would go and take care of a sick person that they barely knew? I liked him as a person and for his hot ass body from the moment I met him. Besides Nicole and Zoey, who I had clung to like a trapped insect on a spiders web, there had never been anyone I'd taken to so easily, and yet, he and what we had was completely different.

"This is so good, Mag," I moaned, slurping my noodles. "I think I love your mom."

He nodded, shoveling another forkful of fettucine into his mouth. "I need to take you over to see them," he garbled.

I couldn't help but smile at the idea that he wanted me to go meet his beloved mother. It would be a lie if I said that I didn't like knowing how much he valued the relationship he had with his parents but especially with his mom. Maybe it was because I lost my mom so young, but knowing that he was close to his made me feel more grateful for the time I'd gotten to spend with mine. I couldn't help but appreciate my dad that much more. "I'd like that," I told him.

His smile was cheeky and sweet. "She's been harassing me for the last week to bring you over. If I don't do it soon she's going to show up here randomly."

Polishing off the last portion of my food, I wiped my mouth and watched Tristan eat as non-creepily as I could.

He slapped his palm across the countertop unexpectedly like he remembered something important all of a sudden. "Goldie, I want to see the pictures from Universal Studios," he said with a mouthful of fettucine alfredo. He'd already reminded me about wanting to see the pictures at least three other times, but I kept forgetting to bring my computer over.

I nodded at him and hopped off the stool. "I brought my laptop, let me go grab it," I said, walking into the living room to grab my computer from its spot on his coffee table and nudging a passed out Yoda with my foot.

Tristan was putting our plates into the sink when I came back in and set the computer on the kitchen island before unlocking it and then opening up my iPhoto. He came and sat down on the stool next to mine. Instead of scooting his seat closer to mine, he grabbed the sides of my stool and started pulling it closer to him before I slapped him on the chest with the back of my hand and stood up.

"I'll wash the dishes while you look at them," I said with my back to him. "I've already seen them."

"Deal," he shrugged. Tristan tilted the screen in his direction to start clicking through the twenty or so pictures we'd taken with my digital camera. I'd completely forgotten that I brought it with me on the trip until the last day, like a moron.

I'd just started scrubbing the large pot when I heard him laugh. I turned to look at him over my shoulder and found him smiling at the screen. "What?"

"You looked like such a hobo in my shirt," he answered, smiling at the screen while his fingers kept clicking through pictures. "Like a cute, little hobo."

I snorted as unladylike as possible and turned back. "Whatever."

I heard him chuckle a few more times in the next few minutes, but it was when a few minutes turned into even more minutes that I glanced over my shoulder again to see him staring at the screen intently.

Then I heard it.

I heard a moan that I hadn't heard in years. Four and a half years to be exact.

The plate I'd been washing slipped from my hands and clattered into the ceramic sink, my guts felt the world tilt on its axis.