Made Marian, Volume One by Lucy Lennox
Blue
I wished there was a way to tell Tristan how much it meant to me to have him there when Jeremy approached with Brad. Tristan seemed like a good man. Maybe because he knew what it was like to break up and still be faced with the memories of someone, or maybe it was just that he was a sympathetic person in general. But feeling his reassuring touch and knowing I didn’t look like a pathetic loser eating alone at the bar made me feel a profound sense of relief and comfort.
After I pulled back from the hug and took a deep breath, I sent him a smile of gratitude. His face was so open and genuine that I didn’t feel any discomfort with him. With any other strange guy I might have been embarrassed or afraid of coming off as needy, but this was someone I probably wouldn’t see again and he seemed genuinely okay with my brand of crazy.
Tristan gestured to Frank and the bartender walked over. “Two red-headed sluts, please,” he ordered in a strong, confident voice.
My jaw dropped open at his order and I gaped at him. He looked over and raised a brow at me. “What? They’re good,” he said. “I can’t help it if the drink I like also happens to be extremely appropriate.”
And just like that, I was back to laughing. How did the Tristan do that? In one of my most dreaded situations in months, this man had the ability to make me laugh.
The shots went down too easily and he ordered a second round. While we were waiting for Frank to fix the drinks, Tristan told me another story from his past to distract me.
We each downed our second shot before Tristan asked Frank for two glasses of ice water. I looked over my shoulder and saw Jeremy sitting close to Brad, both men leaning their foreheads together. A sigh inadvertently came out of my mouth.
“Forget about those two, Blue. You deserve better than that guy,” Tristan said in a low voice only I could hear.
“I know that in my head,” I admitted. “But it’s still hard to see. And it’s not that I want him. I just want that. Intimacy, you know? Physical touch. I miss being with someone.”
“You said you’d dated since the breakup?” he asked me.
“Yes, but it sucks getting back out there. Once you’re in your thirties it seems like people are either already in a relationship or they just want the meaningless club hookup. What about you? Have you dated other women since the divorce?” I asked.
“Not really. I’ve been out on some dates but… I don’t know. Something’s always missing. I’ve kind of given up on trying. And I agree that at our age it’s harder than it was years ago.”
I watched his lips as he spoke. Those full, red lips framed by dark, shiny stubble. Whiskers that had felt scratchy against my skin but might feel softer by morning. His lips were perfect. Red like punch and still wet from a sip of his water glass. As I stared at them, his tongue snuck out to run along his lower lip. My eyes jumped up to his in embarrassment, and I noticed a look in his eyes I was not expecting. Desire.
Surely I was wrong. This guy was straight. I needed to stop drinking. Quickly grabbing my water glass, I chugged it down. Was I trying to put the buzz out like it was some kind of fire? It sure was hot like a fire. Was it a buzz from the drinks or a heat of attraction to the straight man sitting next to me? What the fuck was I thinking? Run into Jeremy and then pick the closest guy to latch on to? I needed to get out of there.
“Uh,” I stammered. “Frank, I think I’m ready for my check, please.”
“No, no,” Tristan said. “I’ve got this. Frank, it’s on me.”
“I can’t let you do that,” I said, pulling out my wallet. Tristan’s hand came down on top of mine.
“Please let me just cover your dinner, Blue. I enjoyed your company and otherwise I would have eaten alone. I won’t take no for an answer.” He smiled a smile I couldn’t help but return.
“Thanks, Tristan. I appreciate it.”
As I slipped my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, I noticed Jeremy staring at me. Tristan turned to see what I was looking at and must have seen it too.
Just then I saw Tristan look from Jeremy to me and back again before he cupped my face in both of his hands and leaned forward to kiss me full on the lips. And it wasn’t just a peck. The kiss happened in a tender kind of slow motion. Lips ghosting, tongues caressing. It all came together in a burst of fucking stars and took my breath away.
Tristan’s mouth was warm and tasted like a red-headed slut. I drank him in and wanted more. My hands ended up on his hips even while my brain was trying to flash a red alert flag that screamed, He’s straight, he’s straight.
My dick flashed a different flag. This one was black-and-white checkered and screamed, Ready, set, go!
Tristan’s fingers threaded into my hair and held on, dragging my head even closer to his. My own fingers found belt loops in his jeans to hook into and pull his hips closer. His tongue swirled and explored inside my mouth. I felt his stiff length against my abdomen and shuddered at the realization he was as hard as I was.
Wait. WAIT. What the fuck was happening? This didn’t feel like a fake kiss any more than the first one had. I felt the long, stiff evidence that not all was as straight as it seemed. And there had been a look of desire in his eyes earlier.
I wrenched myself away with a small step backward, panting, bringing my hand up to my mouth, and staring at him in surprise.
Tristan’s eyes darted to where Jeremy and Brad sat staring at us. Both of them sat openmouthed after witnessing our full-frontal assault. I felt blood rush to my face as I remembered what Tristan was doing. He had felt so sorry for me that he kissed me to help make Jeremy jealous. Again.
While unbelievably sweet of him, especially considering he was straight, it made me feel like a goddamned charity case. Like the recipient of the Most Pathetic Man Alive award. I had come to a pity party and been voted its queen. It wasn’t real. Maybe he had a physical reaction to his little sexual experimentation, but that didn’t mean he was interested in fucking men.
I turned and bolted out of the restaurant, hearing Tristan’s voice behind me. “Wait, Blue. Hang on.”
Nope. Not hanging on. Running away.
I blindly followed signs to the guest room hallway. With shaking hands, I dug the room key out of my pocket and matched the room number on the key envelope to a door halfway down the hall.
I couldn’t get the key card to go into the slot, and it finally dropped onto the carpet. I blew out a frustrated breath and rested my forehead on the door to calm down a second.
“Blue.” It was Tristan’s deep, comforting voice, only this time it sounded like it had a note of pleading in it. I was too tired for this. The long day hit me suddenly and I just wanted to fall asleep between crisp, cool sheets. I tried so damned hard not to imagine Tristan right there next to me in the bed. Fuck.
