Page 4 of Meet Cute the Virgin

Tristan actually has two assistants. One handles things outside of the business, which is Sasha, a girl he grew up with. She wouldn’t have to work if she didn’t want to, but she was more than happy to jump on it with Tristan. She wants him. I know it, and I don’t know if Tristan does.

I don’t believe they have ever crossed that line, but who knows these days. With how cold and stiff Tristan appears, there have been times I wondered if he was asexual.

I don’t know if he allows her around me because he knows I won’t say anything about this kidnapping or because he knows she’d help him. Everyone should have a ride or die, but it can’t be a person you’re fucking or who wants to fuck you! Joey is his right hand. He works with him on business crap. He’s nice and has never bothered me, but I know he too will do what Tristan asks over me.

“Why do you say it that way?” Does he really not know? The man went to MIT. He’s supposed to be super smart.

“Never mind.” I turn and walk away. Sucker, I’m the one leaving first. He calls after me, but I keep walking.

I kick my bedroom door shut behind me hard enough to rattle the chandelier in the hallway. My bedroom looks like a tornado ripped through a designer showroom. The white Frette sheets are tangled and half dragged. Above the headboard, I’vestrung fairy lights that blink erratically, one strand already burned out.

Stacks of books form towers in random places that I’ve stolen from Tristan’s library, paperbacks with cracked spines, all of them open and abandoned mid-chapter because I can’t focus on anything anymore.

Dad’s photo sits in a silver frame on my desk, the only thing in this room that actually matters to me. It’s from some FBI ceremony, and he’s in full dress uniform, looking stern and proud, alive. I’ve positioned it deliberately, angled so he can see the chaos I’ve made of Tristan’s perfect space. He’d get a chuckle out of it.

I fall backward onto my bed. After a good twenty minutes of pouting, I make myself get up and change into workout clothes.

That’s the only way to burn off energy when you’re locked away. I roll my eyes—not that it does anything, but it feels nice. Sure, he’d let me go somewhere with armed guards. It wouldn’t be him coming with me. If anything, Tristan grows more and more distant from me. I don’t know how to fix it, and honestly, I’m not sure it’s worth it anymore.

At one time I could tell myself he was so protective because he cared for me. Now I wonder if his protectiveness is actually a way to exert control. It’s not in a hot sexy way either. I think it’s a mix of that and him wanting to do right by my dad.

My father tasked Tristan with my care, and now he’s going to make sure not one hair is harmed on my head. It’s not really about me, and I’m facing that realization now.

Even my dad wasn’t this over the top with his protection. People didn’t know who I was. If anything, living with Tristan might put me on people’s radar.

If he truly cared for me, he’d want to be around me more. Instead, I swear he actively avoids me, but I’m sure a lot of it isin my head. That’s what happens when you spend too much time alone. Your mind wanders, and it’s never anywhere good.

There is a light in the darkness, though. My escape plan has given me a flicker of hope that I won’t be stuck here for all eternity pining for a man who doesn’t want me. I wish I could be here when Tristan comes home that day. I should see if I can get access to the cameras. Then again, his reaction might cut deeper than I want to know.

Chapter Three

TRISTAN

My temples throb as I read over the file my head security officer sent over to me. It has a lot of details but not everything. I know Lily has been speaking with someone. I’m not sure who it is yet, but I’ll find out soon enough.

She hasn’t been using her phone to really message people. That means she’s using other apps to hide it from me. There has to be a reason. I want to know who it is. They got it traced down to a house. Well, an estate, to be precise. The property is massive and belongs to a deceased older lady.

The company I originally hired is having a challenging time figuring out who it could be inside there. It can’t be the ghost of a dead woman, and I don’t see it being the butler. Those are the only two names really connected to the house in the past ten years. That’s when the head of the company requested to go out there and find out for himself. I’d told him no and left it at that.

I have someone else in mind for this job. I want this to be done correctly without a trace of anyone having been sniffing around, and maybe, if it’s bad, I can add on the killing of the person. That’s right up Killian’s alley.

Killian is a loner. He prefers to work alone even when doing government assignments. There were times that wasn’t possible,and we worked on those together. He will slip in and out, no one the wiser.

He’s offensive, and I’ve seen those who work with him against the wall. That can show you who a person is. I trust in his handling of this.

I reach out to my contact in the government to get information on how to contact him right now. They don’t ask why, which I knew would be the case. Lily’s name won’t be uttered to them ever. I might work with the government, but it doesn’t mean I fully trust them.

I smile when I make the call knowing it’s going to piss him off. Killian is a lone wolf, you could say, and I rather enjoy pissing him off. We all get our kicks somewhere. God knows I’m not getting my rocks off anywhere.

My mind goes straight to Lily, and my jaw tightens just thinking about her in that room upstairs. The image hits low and hard, a pulse of heat I don’t want to acknowledge. I shift in my chair, refusing to let my hand drift anywhere near the problem. I don’t even handle it myself. This is my form of self-punishment for lusting after a girl I shouldn’t be. I catch myself staring at her closed door, tracking her footsteps overhead, and force my eyes back to my screen. The tension lives in my shoulders and my temples. I don’t sleep well. I tell myself I deserve every minute of it.

It takes a few calls before Killian finally answers the phone. I made sure my name came up when I placed it.

“Fucking hell, man, I’m in the middle of a job,” he snaps out at me.

“I’ve got a job for you,” I tell him.

“I don’t need a job,” he fires right back. I knew he would. This is going to take a little work.