When they were younger, they’d frequented a corner store that carried single candy you could buy for change. One day, Tristan slipped a piece of candy inside his pocket. When the clerk confronted him, he denied it. His sister, offended on his behalf, scolded the guy. But when they left the store, she pulled Tristan around the corner and made him confess. In a fit of embarrassment and anger, Tristan had thrown the candy in the road.
The look on Sheena’s face at this moment mirrored the look she’d shot him that day.
“Just be careful.”
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
Sheena shrugged. “I’m not worried about her getting hurt. I’m worried about you.”
17
3 July
Denver, Colorado
With Sheena’s ominous words ringing in his ears, Tristan headed back to his room. Sheena could be both the devil or the angel perched on his shoulder. And as he parked his ass on the couch, it was doubly true. He wanted to shut out all of her theories and questions, wanted to just continue to enjoy whatever this was between him and Ele. He was having fun, and he was fairly certain she was having fun. Why did he need to think about what it was or wasn’t?
When the knock finally sounded on his door, he was more than ready. Ele and Robert slipped into the room. Ele walked directly to him and slid her hands around his neck. He pulled her close. Holding her against him, he closed his eyes, breathing her in. She was dressed casually—for her—in a pair of navy slacks, a navy silk shirt, and a yellow jacket. He liked her in the national colors, but he had an image of her wearing Hartesfield colors, and his pulse quickened.
One day.
Then, he remembered the picture. He glanced up and met Robert’s eyes. They needed to talk.
Apparently, Robert could read his mind because when Tristan stepped away from Ele, Robert remained in place.
“Ma’am, I need a moment with Mr. Davenport.”
Ele looked between them and then nodded, stepping into the very small living room.
Tristan stepped closer to Robert.
“Problem?” Robert asked.
“Telepathic too?” Tristan quipped.
Nothing from Robert on that one, not even a twitch.
“I’m not sure. Ele and I took a picture together at the party.”
Robert’s brow rose—in surprise maybe.
“My sister thought it was cute and sent it to my mom.”
Eyes narrowed, Robert waited for him to continue.
“Is that a problem?” Tristan finally asked.
“I don’t know. Is it?”
“Maybe. I have a big family. They follow my career, my posts. I texted her and told her not to do anything with it. But my nine-year-old sister is on her phone all the time. There’s no telling.”
Robert nodded. Then, he turned to leave.
“That’s it?” Tristan asked.
“What do you want me to do?”
“You know three hundred fifty-seven ways to kill a man.”