The Arrangement Anthology 2(100)

"Jerk."

"Don't do it if you can't talk about it later."

"So says the man who may or may not have slept with me last night." I roll my eyes. Again.

"No, I definitely slept with you. I remember pressing your knee into your chest at one point, but you were still dressed, sort of." He smiles wolfishly and I know he's teasing me, trying to see how red I can turn. "I'm not sure when the clothes came off or what you did with my boxers. They're MIA."

My jaw drops! "You're going commando?"

"Not by choice, Call Girl. For all I know you ate them." He laughs and I lunge at him again. This time I knock his elbow and he tips back in his chair. The motion almost knocks him over, but he rights himself at the last second.

"Nice move, Catwoman."

"You know I like pussy."

I make a face at him. "You did not just say that. That's something that Jon would say, not you."

"Why? Because it lacked eloquence? All men want it, Avery. You should know that by now. Love songs, at their core, are only interested in getting into your core." He's still smiling widely and I can't tell if he's serious or teasing me.

I blink twice. "Where's the Trystan I know, because this version is a little too honest for me."

"Honesty is what makes a person. At the end of his life it's one of the things people remember. Your legacy isn't left by fame or fortune. It's left by the footprints of compassion and honesty." He has no idea how astute he is, or how alluring his words are—they're so profoundly simple, modest, and perfect. No wonder why everyone loves him. Well, everyone except Sean.

"There he is, the real Trystan Scott. Okay, now that I have the normal version of you back, tell me what we should do or I'm out the door."

His dark brows furrow as his lips press together. Finally, he mutters, "You're so stubborn."

"The word you're looking for is stupid." I bat my eyelashes at him and toss my hair over my shoulder for emphasis. Trystan doesn't react. He sits there with a stern, Sean-like disapproving expression. "I can't hide forever."

"You shouldn't have to, but wait for Sean to find out. You said he'd know shortly." Trystan tips back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "Let him do it."

"You don't know what he traded."

Trystan leans forward and the chair goes with him, the first two legs slamming down on the floor. "I have an idea, but I don't really understand why you care. You left him, didn't you?"

"I…" I didn't want to. I wanted him to come after me, to chase me, and convince me that we belong together, but he didn't. Instead, Sean promised he was leaving and I wasn't going with him. He'll return to his fake fiancée in California and I'll stay here and be Miss Black's pawn for whatever the hell she wants on Long Island. "…don't want to talk about it."

He puts his hands up, palms toward me. "Fine by me."

"So, then let's go."

"All right, but I'm coming with you."

I sigh as I pick up my purse and make my way to the door. "Trystan we've already been over this. I have to talk to him alone."

"Yeah, not happening."

I turn and wave a finger in his face. "Don't make me call Gabe."

"Gabe is already outside if the guy is any good at his job." Trystan sighs and finally caves. "Fine, but you only have five minutes. Then I'm coming in."

"I can take care of myself." I think about the pilot and a cold feeling grips my chest. It freezes me to the core and makes me feel sick. The scene replays in my head until there is blood spilling across the floor, creeping toward me like the monster I've become.

"I believe you." His voice drops like he knows I've done something I shouldn't have. He watches too closely, and sees too much. It makes me uncomfortable.

I turn quickly so those knowing eyes can't read mine. "Great, then let's go."

_____

The deal had been for Trystan to drive me to Henry's and then wait in the car, but along the way, we stop and pick up a guy who looks like he ate a pickup truck. Trystan's bodyguard is all muscle. He doesn't speak or look at me. He just sits there, way too big for the space in the back of Trystan's limo, with his dark arms folded over his massive chest. Each bicep is the size of a bowling ball. Damn, the man is huge.

He glances at me with a look that could kill. Black eyes narrow in on me and when he finally speaks, his voice is way deeper than I'd thought. "This is idiotic."

"Wow, do you always talk to Trystan's friends that way?" Okay, that sounded bitchy, even to me.

It doesn't faze him. "I only speak to Trystan's friends that way. You should have listened to Ferro."