I'd thought I'd had good sex in the past but this couldn't compare to anything before. It wasn't one thing or another that made me feel amazing; it wasn't just his dick that stretched me, it wasn't the way his sweaty body slid against me, or the way his mouth worked mine sweetly and then more erotically than anything. I could feel it in my bones how differently this was with him because of him.

Hips became frantic, hands squeezed each other’s in time, and I felt that sweet ache right in me when he started grinding down on me with each upward stroke. My legs tightened around him and even though my shoulders were sore from my hand position over my head for so long, I tensed up, gasping and whimpering. "Tristan... oh!" He was looking at me, rubbing me with the short, coarse hair that covered the base of him on each stroke. Then, I just burst, covering a scream of "Tristan!" by pressing my mouth against his shoulder, clenching the most amazing orgasm of all orgasms.

He grunted as I came, thrusting into me hard and deep a couple more times before tensing up from his neck through his thighs. Tristan trembled covering my cheek with his clenched teeth as he came, spilling in me, saying something I couldn't begin to understand. I could feel his thighs twitching against mine as he shifted himself to lay his cheek against my chest. With one leg between mine, he dragged the comforter that had ended up hanging off the edge of the bed and pulled it over us. We lay there, catching our breath, and I stroked his damp back from shoulder blade to right above his perfect ass.

"That was," I let out a huge exhale because no word seemed to be fitting for a description. "Amazing?"

I felt his chest shake on top of mine as he chuckled. "Really, really amazing." Warm lips pressed against my chest. "I didn't know it could be like that," he said softly.

That same pressure in my chest from earlier made my heart feel huge. "Me either."

I'm not sure when we fell asleep in a mess of sweaty, warm, and heavy, but we did. I woke up some time later out of the blue to find that I was still on my back with Tristan's arm and leg thrown over me. I looked at the side of his face, noticing how much more beautiful and handsome he was in his sleep. He was perfect. His full lips, his face, but it was more than that. He was the sweetest person I'd ever met when he wasn't being a jackass, but if I was honest with myself, I liked it when he was a teasing jackass. A lot.

No one I'd ever met made me feel a fraction of what he did. No one. I doubted I'd ever meet anyone who could even be half the man and friend he was to me.

Then it hit me. The thing I felt in me, that tightening sensation wasn't pain. I loved this dork. This man who loved his dog, his mom, and me.

We were so caught up in each other after he told me that he loved me that I didn't say anything back, and I felt like a complete bitch.

So, I shook his arm, hard. He grumbled over me, blinking slowly and opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Those sleepy, green eyes made their way to my face. "What's wrong?" he mumbled.

Maybe it was a little dramatic, but maybe it wasn't, because now I was bursting with this feeling in my body that I couldn't completely understand but that I recognized. All those tears I'd shed while he was gone filming, and that guilt I felt the two times I went out with other men— it was all for the same reason. I'd been in love with him. I was in love with him. I pressed the tip of my index finger against his nose and leaned my head toward his. "I've loved you way longer than you've loved me."

Chapter 54

Good luck and I are never on the same page. Most of the time, I don't even think we're in the same book.

I kept expecting the other shoe to drop, or whatever the saying was, and that something terrible would happen that broke me out of the state that I was in. Emotionally, I was in absolute happiness or what I would consider to be Hawaii. Easygoing, carefree happiness.