NOVGO.NET Chapter 29: HOW WOULD YOU LIKE AN APOLOGY?
Chapter 29: HOW WOULD YOU LIKE AN APOLOGY?
LAURA
Tristan’s voice sent a wave of heat flowing through my veins.
The look of concern in those blue eyes tickled and irritated at the same time.
I jumped back from his chest and cleared my throat. "I’m fine, thanks," I snapped, trying to move away from him.
But we got tangled in a loop movement as he kept getting in my way each time I ducked my head to his left and right side. It transitioned from awkward to annoying in another few seconds. And I exploded.
"Can you just...stand still, please? Let me get through."
His lips curved into a smile. "Of course." Then he stepped to the side. "Where are you headed, anyway? Dinner is far from over. I think there may be an after party too."
I glared at him. "Well due to the headache of some unexpected drama, I might be needing a smoke."
He frowned. "Don’t you need water when you have a headache?"
"You can’t tell me what I need, Tristan. And you can’t judge."
He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "Absolutely not."
"Look, are you going to tell me where I can have a smoke around here or what?"
A light filtered into those blue eyes. "Follow me."
He led the way, walking like he knew his way around the place. I followed him with a blind trust, wondering why he had returned alone, and what must have transpired between him and Madison.
Tempted to ask, but not wanting to, I started to hum the chorus of Adele’s Set Fire To The Rain.
Tristan tossed me a surprised glance as I hit a melodious key. "I didn’t know you could sing."
"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me."
Silence hung between us for a minute, then he cleared his throat. "Listen, about earlier—"
"How long till we’re there?" I cut him off bluntly because I didn’t want to hear whatever he was about to say. I feared they may be ludicrous excuses for his bride-to-be. My chest boiled green with envy.
"Just a few corners left. What happened with Mad—"
"This is a classy resort." I glanced around everywhere but at his face. "Do you think smoking would be allowed?"
Tristan sighed and said nothing else, which was honestly a relief.
We went up a flight of stairs and at the very top, he pushed a door open into the cold night air.
The wind hit my hair as I stepped onto the rooftop, smiling. This was exactly what I needed, a breath of fresh air, the wind in my hair, in my lungs, trying to wash away the alcohol clouding my senses.
I reach into my purse for a blunt I had taken from Mara’s stash. The weed was a habit I leaned on when things got a little hard and heavy. It allowed me to float above the things out of my control.
It was as I ransacked my purse for another long minute that I realized I must have forgotten to bring a lighter along.
Tristan came to the rescue with a petrol lighter. I froze as he came more than a centimeter close to me and cupped his hand against the blunt between my lips.
The flame came alive and illuminated our faces. We held each other’s gaze for a brief moment, green against blue, a silent challenge flickering between us.
He watched me drag the blunt, his gaze growing dark.
Then he pulled away and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I’ve been trying to speak but you won’t let me."
I exhaled and watched the smoke curl above me. "What do you have to say, Tristan? That you’re sorry?"
"I can show you."
My gaze snapped to his face.
"Show me what?"
"How sorry I am."
"How do you intend to do that?"
"I can get on my knees and show you."
My mouth went dry. What the hell was he insinuating?
My pussy might be getting the wrong idea, seeing as it clenched and unclenched like a needy whore.
Once again, I reminded myself that it wasn’t just Tristan who was good at playing a game.
I rolled my shoulders and met his gaze squarely. "You can, huh?"
He smirked. "Just say the word, Laura."
His smoldering gaze dropped to my lips. My nipples pebbled under the dress.
I was almost tempted to take up the unspoken challenge, tempted to get close to those perfect lips, tempted to feel what they tasted like.
And the way he was looking at me, his eyes roaming every inch of my face and spending an unhealthy amount of time on my lips, his jaw ticking like he fought for control...
I could tell we were thinking the same thing.
"Tristan—"
The rooftop door opened and Harlan walked in. I retreated from Tristan and put out the blunt.
"Thank Goodness," Harlan sighed as he got close. "I searched everywhere for you."
So how did he find me? And why did I feel disappointed?
I lifted a brow as he reached for me and pulled me to his side, not minding that Tristan watched. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I just came out for a smoke."
"Oh." He glanced at Tristan. "You ran into Mr. Pierce up here?" He laughed. "I didn’t know he smoked too."
Tristan’s visage remained hard and unsmiling as he turned it on me. "I would like to apologize for Madison Steele’s behavior earlier," he said with a hurtful air of officiality about him.
"How do I know it’s not going to keep happening? She obviously can’t stand me."
"I can assure you that you will encounter no further problems with Ms. Steele. She has been reprimanded and made aware of the consequences of—"
"I really hope you’re right, Mr. Pierce," I cut in bluntly. "Because I will rain hell on anyone who defames me or my brand, ever again. I’ve come a long way, and I don’t take kindly to threats anymore. Goodnight."
He didn’t get a chance to speak. I whirled on my heels and walked away.
Harlan remained for a few seconds, saying something to him. I could not hear what. I did not care.
We took a silent elevator ride back to our rooms and after escorting me to mine, Harlan looked like he wanted to talk about the silly unspoken plan we had earlier.
"Do you think we could still—"
"I’m sorry, Harlan." I flashed him a smile, standing in the doorway. "Not tonight."
I slammed the door in his face.