“Tristan?” I say quietly, then again a bit louder.
I leave my bag on a small table just off the dining room and go in search of him, finding him in the kitchen putting the final touches on a dinner that he’s preparing himself.
“You paint, you play violin, you make love like a god, and you cook? Is there anything you can’t do?” I ask with a smile, leaning against the doorjamb.
He sprinkles an herb of some kind on the final product he’s placed in a bowl then looks my way and I nearly fall over at the sight of him in this domestic habitat. He’s in simple dark wash jeans and a black tee… with bare feet.
“I can’t whistle,” he admits with a chuckle.
“What?” That was the last thing I expected him to say.
“It’s true. I can’t make the mechanics of my mouth do what they’re supposed to.”
“That sounds incredibly dirty.”
“It was meant to.” He leaves the bowls on the counter and comes for me in the doorway, gently cupping my cheek and placing a kiss on my lips. “Hello, love.”
“You really have the evening-after part down. Now we just need to get you better with the morning after. Although, the rose was a nice thing to wake up to. Next time, I want it to be you though.”
He cocks his head slightly with his now ever famous half smirk. “Next time? Well, love, I think I can accommodate that request.”
“The table is beautiful, Tristan.”
“I wanted to apologize for leaving like an arsehole this morning. I was hoping we could have dinner together and I could explain a bit of my headspace to you?”
I nod my head in agreement. “I’d like that.”
“Thank you,” he kisses my forehead, “and you look beautiful tonight.”
I struggled picking out what to wear because I didn’t know what tonight would entail. I didn’t want to look like I was expecting anything, but I didn’t want to look a mess. When I slipped on the long, purple maxi dress and twisted my hair up into a bun, I felt confident and sexy. I have a feeling I’ll definitely be needing all of that that I can get.
I sit on one of the breakfast barstools while he’s finishing the last touches on dinner tonight. I offer to help, but he politely declines. When all is ready, he offers his hand to me without a word. I give myself freely as he guides me to the table and the chair in front of the rose. He pulls out my chair for me to take a seat, then he pushes me in.
He disappears only long enough to have two large bowls filled with steaming goodness. While the smells seep into my every sense, he returns with a bottle of white. “This is from my collection, Petal. I bought this bottle in Tuscany about a decade ago. I haven’t had a reason to open it until now. I hope it’s as sweet as you like.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you are incredibly smooth? That was a very good line.”
“Is it a line if it’s the truth? And the answer is yes. I have been told that I’m very smooth from time to time.”
He pours my wine and I lift the glass, letting it swirl around and breathe for a moment before I take a small sip. It’s the perfect mix of dry and sweet with notes of honey and peach, maybe? It’s absolutely delicious.
“I could watch you try new things all day long.”
“That could be considered a line too.” I wink. “I like this music. I’m surprised it’s not Paganini though.”
“Chopin is perfect for dinner. Do you have everything you need?”
“Except for you sitting next to me. Yes, I do.” I give the leg of his chair a little shove away from the table.
“That is one of your most admirable qualities, Petal. You always advocate for what you want.”
“I find that it makes life a lot easier when you learn to stop being quiet.”
“Cheers to that.” He lifts his glass to clink with mine and takes a sip, same as I do.
“So,” I say, placing my glass back down and trading it for a fork, “you wanted to talk?”
“Yes, I did.” He shifts a bit in his chair and places his hands on the table. “What happened between us last night was everything I wanted it to be. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t change it, and if I’m honest, I hope to do it again sometime.”
“So do I,” I admit.
“Good.” He smirks. “I left you this morning because I felt you needed some space to process what happened. You’ve admitted aloud many times that I overwhelm you, and that I make you nervous. I didn’t want my presence to sway how you felt one way or another. If you’d regretted it, I wanted you to have the room to decide that on your own.”
“It’s true, I am overwhelmed. I don’t think it’s for the reasons, well, you’d think. We’ve moved so fast. We still don’t know a lot about each other, Tristan. I guess I hope that will be part of our conversation.”
“It can be, Petal. Again, I want you to move only where you wish to go at the pace you wish to move in.”
“The same could be said for you, Tristan. I know you have things you’re hiding. Maybe hiding isn’t the right word.”
“No, hiding wouldn’t be the right word, but I can say the same for you. Is there anything you feel that I should be aware of before we progress forward?”
One face pops into my head. The same one that haunted my nightmares just this morning, but I’m not ready to talk about him yet. I don’t know that I ever will be.
“No. I’m just a college student and a model, who is in a very intense entanglement with her professor.” I widen my eyes then take another, much larger gulp of my wine. “That sounds insane out loud.”
“Petal, I need you to know that I will take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you academically. Our entanglement, as you called it, will not bleed into the classroom or the university as a whole. There’s no reason it should. We will simply need to be careful and not so blatant with our connection. Not yet, at least.”
“I’m not worried about myself. You stand to lose much more than I do.”
“Let me bear that burden. That’s not for you to concern yourself with.”
“Tristan, I appreciate that you want to shield or protect me. I do. I also need to stand on my own two feet. I don’t want to wait to be saved. Please let me be equal in the discussion, even if you need to handle something. Please? I can’t have my choices controlled.”
“I would never try to control you, Nora. I may try in the bedroom, but that’s only because I find myself at a loss for my own control where you’re concerned.”
The thought of that makes my toes curl in my shoes. His words alone can cause such a reaction in me. It’s intense.
“When you say things like that, I have trouble thinking of anything else. You are… a lot. And I mean that in the best way. It’s just frightening sometimes.”
He sets his fork down to reach his hand across the table. His palm lies gently over my hand. “I don’t want you frightened of me ever. Don’t mistake my loss of control with you for anything other than the adoration and affection with which it’s intended. The minute we’re at your limit, tell me. No is the only word you’ll need. No explanation will be demanded or required. But, should you wish to confide in me, I’d be honored to listen.”