The Boy I Hate(41)

Samantha glanced out the window, slightly shocked by the girl’s choice of words, and found Tristan in the parking lot. He was the only person she could have been talking about, and Samantha nearly choked at the realization. “Are you talking about Tristan?” she asked, turning quickly around.

“Well I ain’t talkin’ ’bout Jesus, sweetheart. ’Course I’m talking about him, though I have to admit, I am right jealous.”

“Oh. Well, no need to be jealous. He’s not mine.” She adjusted in her seat then glanced back at the menu. “We’re only driving together.”

“Bullshit.” The server coughed, then sat quickly sat in the seat across from her. “I mean, I don’t mean to pry—and my lady bits just tingled at the possibility of him being single, but no man looks at a woman like that, without somethin’ goin’ on.”

Samantha followed the girl’s line of vision, and found Tristan standing at the gas pump, filling the Mustang with fuel—and looking directly at her.

She turned away.

“See.” The girl laughed. But her eyebrows rose as though she’d proven her point.

Samantha shook her head, resisting the urge to look again. “What kind of cheese do you use on your sandwiches?” she asked instead, hoping the change in subject wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Wisconsin cheddar,” the server answered quickly, without skipping a beat. “So what’s your story? If he’s not yours, why are you driving alone together all the way from Cali?”

Samantha cleared her throat, tempted to call the manager and complain about this nosey server, but for some reason she felt the need to set her straight. “My best friend is getting married,” she stated. “That hot piece of something is her brother.”

The girl raised her brows in an all-knowing sort of way and laughed. “Well shoot! This trip gets juicier and juicer.”

Samantha slapping the menu down to the table. “No. It’s not like that. I have a boyfriend.”

“Ho-le-shit!” the girl called. “And he let you drive cross country with him?”

Samantha frowned. “He trusts me.”

The server scoffed. “Trust only takes you so far—”

Samantha had enough. She looked the server dead in the eye, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Can we have two coffees please? With cream?”

The girl must have taken the hint, because she cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes as she stood from the table. She straightened her pinafore, picked up her tablet from where she had laid it on the table, then scribbled down a few notes. “Anything else?” she asked begrudgingly.

“No,” Samantha uttered. “That will be all.”

But as soon as the server walked through the double doors to the back room, Samantha found herself looking for Tristan again through the window. He was still standing at the pump talking on the phone, his other hand in his pocket, and his eyes were locked right on her. He waved, sending goose bumps and tingles loose throughout her entire body. She glanced back at the menu again, realizing she hadn’t felt this way in six years. Not since she was sixteen years old, and she sat too close to her best friend’s brother.

God save her soul.





14





Chapter Fourteen





Six years earlier



Familiar faces filled the downstairs great room in the Montgomerys’ home. Just like they had nearly every other weekend before Tristan went off to college. It was like a reunion     of sorts. The past year’s senior football team, now mixed with new faces. Some from Samantha’s class, and some the year ahead, all laughing, and flirting, and messing around.

Samantha sat at the bar with Renee and a boy from their biology class. But all she could think about was how Tristan had stared at her all throughout dinner. Not really stared, but she caught him looking a time or two. When she was buttering her roll, she caught him. And again, when she’d glanced up to look for the saltshaker. Honestly, it sent tiny butterflies loose all throughout her belly. But at the same time, it made her think about their kiss. The kiss she still hadn’t told Renee about.

The kiss that had the potential to ruin their friendship.

She tried to push the thoughts away, but the more time she spent, the more it became impossible. In fact, she found herself watching him now. Witnessing the cocky grin as he passed one of his teammates and headed for the garage.

Her heart began to thud in her chest. Because now was her chance. To talk to him. To make sure everything was cool, so he would never say anything to Renee. As she swiveled in her chair, her heart felt like it was about to explode, but she stood up and pushed through the crowd of people as quickly as she could. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, heading for the hall with sweaty hands. She wiped them over her jeans, then reached for the garage door. It came swinging toward her, nearly knocking her flat. She stumbled backward, almost knocking against the wall behind her, but Tristan caught her by the wrist. He yanked her forward, his other hand catching her at the waist to hold her steady—and his bright blue eyes bore into hers.