change her mind and tell me she’s coming inside, but she doesn’t. “It’s cold. Don’t stay out here too long.”
She closes her eyes and I take that as my cue to head back in. I leave the front door open and take a seat at the dining table, which, thankfully, still has a view of the front door.
“Where’s Senia?” Molly asks as she sips a glass of cranberry juice.
“She’s just missing her family a little. She’ll be back inside in a couple of minutes.”
But a couple of minutes turns into nearly fifteen minutes and I have to check on her. When I open the door, Senia’s car is gone. My first instinct is to hop into my car and go to her parents’ house, but they don’t know about me yet and I don’t want to cause her any more trouble then she may already be in for not showing up to their Christmas dinner.
I pull my phone out of my pocket. It’s a long-shot, but I have to at least try to call her. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t answer, but I’m not upset because I’ve been a bit of an asshole to her about using her phone while driving. I look up and down the street, foolishly hoping she may have just parked a few houses away to think in the warmth of the car heater, but her car is nowhere. I wait a few minutes, to give her some time to get wherever she’s going, then I begin typing a text message to her.
Me: Where are you?
I hesitate before I hit the send button. This text message sounds demanding. I swallow my pride and type two more words.
Me: Where are you? I’m worried.
I hit send and I get a response a few minutes later, just as Molly comes outside to see what’s going on.
Senia: I’m home. I’m in the study catching up on my homework.
I’m confused. She just said that she was upset because she wasn’t spending Christmas with her family and now she’s gone home – to our home – instead of to her family’s house. Why do women have to be so fucking complicated? I think as I reach into my pocket and grab my keys.
“Can I come with you?” Molly asks.
I smile. “Not this time. I think Senia and I have some stuff to talk about.”
Molly laughs. “You’re whipped.”
“What? I am not whipped.”
“Yeah, you are. But that’s okay. She’s worth it.”
I shake my head as I head for my car. “Tell Grandma she doesn’t need to clean up. I’ll send Lily over tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t be a pussy!” she shouts at me as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Tell her how you feel.”
Chapter Twenty
Senia
I probably screwed things up with Tristan and his family, but I couldn’t sit there and pretend like my mind wasn’t elsewhere. And I couldn’t tell Tristan what I was thinking. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m clingy and demanding. I needed a timeout.
So here I am in Tristan’s study, which is right next door to the room where he practices bass for hours at a time. If he’s that dedicated to his job, I should try to be that dedicated to my schoolwork. I can’t let all this family stuff and all these emotions sidetrack me. But now that Tristan knows I’m here, I fully expect him to come walking through the door into the study and say something totally stupid or totally dreamy. It won’t matter because, either way, it won’t be the words I want to hear; the same words I nearly blurted out at his Grandma’s dining table.
I’m such an idiot. I need to move out of here.
I grab my laptop and textbook then head back to my bedroom. I grab my suitcase out of the closet and begin stuffing the inner pocket with all my panties and bras. Then I pull a zipped case out from underneath the bed: my new goodie drawer since I know Tristan has probably searched all the drawers on this dresser.
“So that’s where you keep it?”
His voice makes my skin ache. I want to turn around to face him, but I’m afraid of what his face will look like when he realizes I’m packing.
“Are you packing?”
I turn around and his eyes are
She closes her eyes and I take that as my cue to head back in. I leave the front door open and take a seat at the dining table, which, thankfully, still has a view of the front door.
“Where’s Senia?” Molly asks as she sips a glass of cranberry juice.
“She’s just missing her family a little. She’ll be back inside in a couple of minutes.”
But a couple of minutes turns into nearly fifteen minutes and I have to check on her. When I open the door, Senia’s car is gone. My first instinct is to hop into my car and go to her parents’ house, but they don’t know about me yet and I don’t want to cause her any more trouble then she may already be in for not showing up to their Christmas dinner.
I pull my phone out of my pocket. It’s a long-shot, but I have to at least try to call her. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t answer, but I’m not upset because I’ve been a bit of an asshole to her about using her phone while driving. I look up and down the street, foolishly hoping she may have just parked a few houses away to think in the warmth of the car heater, but her car is nowhere. I wait a few minutes, to give her some time to get wherever she’s going, then I begin typing a text message to her.
Me: Where are you?
I hesitate before I hit the send button. This text message sounds demanding. I swallow my pride and type two more words.
Me: Where are you? I’m worried.
I hit send and I get a response a few minutes later, just as Molly comes outside to see what’s going on.
Senia: I’m home. I’m in the study catching up on my homework.
I’m confused. She just said that she was upset because she wasn’t spending Christmas with her family and now she’s gone home – to our home – instead of to her family’s house. Why do women have to be so fucking complicated? I think as I reach into my pocket and grab my keys.
“Can I come with you?” Molly asks.
I smile. “Not this time. I think Senia and I have some stuff to talk about.”
Molly laughs. “You’re whipped.”
“What? I am not whipped.”
“Yeah, you are. But that’s okay. She’s worth it.”
I shake my head as I head for my car. “Tell Grandma she doesn’t need to clean up. I’ll send Lily over tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t be a pussy!” she shouts at me as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Tell her how you feel.”
Chapter Twenty
Senia
I probably screwed things up with Tristan and his family, but I couldn’t sit there and pretend like my mind wasn’t elsewhere. And I couldn’t tell Tristan what I was thinking. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m clingy and demanding. I needed a timeout.
So here I am in Tristan’s study, which is right next door to the room where he practices bass for hours at a time. If he’s that dedicated to his job, I should try to be that dedicated to my schoolwork. I can’t let all this family stuff and all these emotions sidetrack me. But now that Tristan knows I’m here, I fully expect him to come walking through the door into the study and say something totally stupid or totally dreamy. It won’t matter because, either way, it won’t be the words I want to hear; the same words I nearly blurted out at his Grandma’s dining table.
I’m such an idiot. I need to move out of here.
I grab my laptop and textbook then head back to my bedroom. I grab my suitcase out of the closet and begin stuffing the inner pocket with all my panties and bras. Then I pull a zipped case out from underneath the bed: my new goodie drawer since I know Tristan has probably searched all the drawers on this dresser.
“So that’s where you keep it?”
His voice makes my skin ache. I want to turn around to face him, but I’m afraid of what his face will look like when he realizes I’m packing.
“Are you packing?”
I turn around and his eyes are
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