"Yes!" he yelled back from the kitchen. The opening and closing of cabinets muffled his voice before he reappeared holding two plates, napkins, a glass of water, and a can of soda. He gave me that cute, crooked smile as he set the things down on the coffee table before coming around to stand very close next to me, looking at the same pictures I had just gotten done inspecting. He pointed at the first picture. "They renewed their wedding vows about five years ago." The more I looked at the picture, the more resemblance I noticed between Tristan and his father; they had the same jaw, mouth, and the same wild disarray of hair.

"If you look like your dad when you're his age, your wife is going to be a lucky, lucky woman." I laughed.

He scowled at me as he grasped my forearm to pull me toward the couch again. "I'm going to pretend like you didn't just imply that my fifty year old father is attractive."

"He is!" I giggled, sitting in the middle of the couch in front of one of the plates he'd set down.

Tristan waved me off, frowning, before opening up the pizza box and extracting a slice of pizza with just his hands and setting it onto my plate before putting another one on his. "Just eat, I don't want to lose my appetite thinking about you finding my dad..." he trailed off before faking a gag.

I elbowed him in the ribs, and then started eating the slice of meaty goodness. We each polished off two slices in silence before he pressed a hand against his stomach, moaning about how he hadn't gotten his appetite completely back yet. The pain in my lower back had gotten worse, and when I stood up to help him clean our mess, I felt it.

That familiar throb between my legs and lower stomach.

Suddenly, I felt wet.

Not the good kind of wet either, so I didn't think twice about shoving my hand between my legs to feel the proof of my body's doing.

Oh God, please, no.

Tristan, who was still sitting on the couch, leaned back against the cushion and burst into laughter. "Please tell me you peed your pants," he gasped.

Chapter 23

I wanted to die a quick death.

"Do you have a bathroom downstairs?" I asked him in a voice laced with dread and panic, fucking horrified that I started my period two days early.

He nodded and pointed to where the stairs were at, still laughing. If he were Josh, I'd kick him in the leg and then run but since he wasn't, I settled for speed-walking in the direction he pointed. My shorts and panties were on the floor the instant the door closed, and sure enough, all I could see was red. Everywhere. It looked like I'd slaughtered a small animal in my underwear. Shit! I used the bathroom and cleaned myself off as best as I could, when I heard a knock on the door.

"Kat? I can go buy you some panties and tampons from Target if you want," he said, quietly and evenly.

I wanted to die again. I wanted to die not because the situation was embarrassing, but because he'd just offered to go buy me undies and tampons. Josh would have done the same, but only after he rolled his eyes and huffed to make it seem like it was a big inconvenience. Then, he'd probably buy me extra large pads that looked more like diapers than anything, just to spite me.

"I have undies in the glove compartment of my car and a pad in my purse. Can you get it for me, please? My car keys are in my purse."

"Okay, I'll be right back," he said in the same voice.

I grabbed my underwear and shoved them under the tap in the sink to rinse them off, but when I picked them up, I noticed there was a stain on my shorts, too. Jesus. I grunted in frustration, standing there in Tristan's half-bath with no bottoms on. This wasn't exactly the way I'd envisioned myself having my panties off in his house, but this was my luck. I shouldn't have been surprised.