"I'm gonna go pee, I'll be back." She stood up, wiping imaginary lint off her jeans. "Just bowl for me, KAB." Then, she was off, practically skipping to the restroom.

Tristan decided to turn and look at me then, giving me the opportunity to appreciate the fact that his superb, finely cut jaw was clenched. He didn't say a word as Nikki and Calum sat back down, but he did wave me up to follow him so we could grab our balls to bowl. I was a little faster than him at prepping, so my ball was flying down the lane a few seconds before his.

"You're going to a wedding?" he asked me casually, while we waited for our balls to come back.

"Yeah, on Saturday." I answered, looking at the machine that returned the balls. I glanced up at him, but his broad frame was facing the lanes while his hands were shoved deep inside his jean pockets.

"Cool," he muttered in a deep voice.

I knew he was leaving on Friday again, because he told me about it a few days before and that familiar, sickening feeling in my stomach made a mess of my intestines. I had a brief flashback to two days before, when I woke up in the middle of the night to Tristan's form against mine. By the time I got up in the morning he was already awake and attempting to make French toast. He didn't say anything about the night before, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to point out anything he potentially could have done in his sleep. Why couldn't I be a telepath? Or even have some balls to invite him to spend the night again?

I bowled again for Zoey and waited for Tristan to bowl before I gave him a high-five. Josh was up and talking a whole lot of shit before our turn, and by the time I made it back to the seats, Zoey hadn't made it back. My auburn-haired friend was sitting in his seat with his spine straight and shoulders pushed so far back it looked border-line painful.

The lovely green eyes I was so fond of were looking between my still colorful cheek and eyes. "Want to come over for a while after we finish here? I'll make spaghetti."

Damn him and his mom's spaghetti recipe.

I was such a sucker.

Chapter 38

"I haven't been here in years," I said quietly, peering into the huge water world just a few feet away.

Tristan leaned into me, bumping my shoulder against his arm. "I come here with my mom a couple times a year."

We were at the Miami Seaquarium on Thursday. He managed to get off work early and invited me to go with him for fun. It was the first time we'd actually gone anywhere besides the animal shelter, grocery store, and pet store. Not that I minded staying at his house for the most part, because we're both home-bodies but this was a nice change. Still in his work clothes, Tristan was too much for the human eye in his black dress pants, light blue button-up shirt, and rolled up sleeves. Professional Tristan was way too much for my eyes and hormones, and by the sultry looks every woman in the aquarium had shot him— they all agreed with me.

The killer whale and dolphin show had just finished and we were heading to the main reef aquarium to cool down for a bit. I could tell that Tristan regretted keeping on his work clothes because the sun was unforgiving and the heat was blistering. The air conditioning felt like a miracle to me and I was wearing half the amount of clothes he was. We paused in front of one of the biggest tanks, taking in the shades of blue that teamed with fish.

"I'm going to the restroom," he whispered into my ear, squeezing my wrist.

I wasn't sure exactly how long I stood there staring at the homes of blue water right ahead of me, but I knew it was awhile when I started to get bored and look around the rest of the aquarium for Tristan. There were only about fifteen other people in this part of the building at the time and none of them were my beautiful friend. The problem was that I didn't have my cell or my purse with me. I'd left my things in the trunk of his car since I didn't think I'd need any of it. I was worried, because I couldn't even call him to check and see if he had bubbly guts, or if maybe he'd fallen and hit his head on the toilet.