Follow You Down Read online

  He turned around. His eyes were red, his face troubled. “Afraid to be alone with me?”

  “Can you blame me? You don’t seem to handle rejection all that well.”

  At least he had the decency to look guilty. “I’m really sorry about what I said to you at Jessica’s party. I was an asshole.”

  “Yes you were.” He flashed his trademark smirk, appearing to be his carefree, arrogant self again, and she realised he’d just played her. “This is all bullshit, isn’t it?”

  “No. I do need to talk to someone.”

  “How do I know this isn’t just an act?”

  “Guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  Fuck. He was so difficult to read, switching from sincere to cocky within seconds, and she had no idea how to react to him. “You’re a popular guy, you have lots of friends you can talk to if you’re really in trouble. So why me? Why are you here?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, resembling a lost little boy – and she couldn’t help but wonder if the whole gesture was simply another way to manipulate her.

  “I have friends, yeah, but they’re not… people you turn to when it comes to stuff like this.”

  “Stuff like what?”

  Silence ensued, and it was clear he was having a difficult time with whatever it was that was bothering him. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “I was with my dad tonight, and he was more than happy to announce he’s now engaged to my ex-girlfriend. She’s probably the only woman I’ve ever been serious about and now she’s about to become my stepmom.”

  Shit. She was definitely not expecting that. “Come in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. You obviously need someone to talk to about this and I don’t blame you for not going to your friends. They’re jerks.”

  “They’re not that bad. They would probably just find this… funny.”

  “Yeah, that makes them jerks in my book.” She cast him a warning glance. “The second you start acting like an asshole I’ll throw you out.”

  He help up his hands in a show of surrender. “I’m good with that.”

  He was teasing her and a grudging smile curved her lips.

  *****

  Tristan trailed behind her, trying his best not to check her out from behind. After all, she was doing him a favour talking to him when there was absolutely no reason for her to do so, and he didn’t want to disrespect her. But it wasn’t easy, not when she was wearing a t-shirt and a snug pair of yoga pants that emphasized her curvy ass.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

  “You don’t have any food, do you? I didn’t stick around for dinner after my dad’s grand announcement.”

  She turned around to face him. “You want a sandwich?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He started following her into the kitchen but stopped when she shook her head no. “My kitchen is kind of a mess right now. I’ve been too busy working on my assignment to clean.”

  He smirked. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t see it.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll wait here?”

  She pointed to the couch nearby. “You can go sit down.” She turned around and headed inside the kitchen, leaving him alone.

  Strolling over to the couch, he scanned the room. There were cushions, lots and lots of cushions of various sizes and colours all over the place, giving the room a cozy atmosphere. A part of him realised her apartment felt more warm and inviting than his own fucking penthouse suite. There was an accounting textbook faced down on the couch next to the laptop and he picked it up, idly flipping through the pages before setting it aside to take a seat. A few cushions toppled to the ground and he picked them up, feeling embarrassed by his own clumsiness.

  Vesper sauntered back into the room with a plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She handed them to him, and he noted the subtle trembling of her hands when their fingers brushed against each other. He quickly retracted, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable. “Thanks.”

  There was something about her that drew him in, made it near fucking impossible for him to stop staring at her, but he tore his eyes away and picked up the sandwich. Eating, he glanced down at the textbook next to him. “Accounting?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “Didn’t take you for a nerd.”

  “Whatever. People like me are the ones who save you guys from paying too much taxes.”

  “And you’re proud of that?”

  “Shut up.” An easy smile formed across her face. “What do you do? Or is working beneath you?”

  He smirked. “I do have a job. Believe it or not.”

  “And here I thought you just spent your days partying.”

  “You know what they say about making assumptions. Makes an ass out of you and….” He winked at her. “You.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, leaning back against the wall.

  “I’m a hedge fund manager.”

  “Really? Are you any good?”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “I’m one of the best.”

  “Modest, aren’t we?”

  “Just being honest.”

  “Do you work in your dad’s firm?”

  “No, I don’t, and I never will.”

  “Sorry, I just….” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I can’t believe he’s engaged to your ex.”

  “I can. He gets off on shit like that.”

  “Do you think he loves her?”

  “No! He’s not capable of love, he just wants to hurt me.” Spotting the hesitancy in her eyes, he regretted his harsh tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. He just… I hate him. You probably think that makes me a horrible person, right?”

  “No, not really.”

  Her easy acceptance of his words were a definite surprise. “People think I’m an ungrateful brat for hating my father.”

  “I’m not saying you’re not an ungrateful brat,” she remarked, shrugging her shoulders. “But I also don’t think children are automatically obligated to love their parents because they share DNA.”

  For years Tristan was told there was something wrong with him for feeling the way he did about his father. Arthur Winthrop was outwardly charming, very charismatic, and known for his generosity in philanthropic matters, but the world didn’t know what kind of a man he really was underneath that genteel mask, how he mentally tortured his fragile wife and dumped her the moment she became ill. Rage rippled through Tristan when he remembered their encounter earlier tonight. As usual Arthur had pretended to be concerned even as his eyes danced with smugness, taunting Tristan to react while he declared his engagement to the only woman Tristan had ever loved.

  “Are you okay?”

  Tristan finished the rest of his water. “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, he wasn’t. Not really, but Vesper didn’t need to know all that. “Are you close to your parents?” he asked, looking to be distracted from his troubled thoughts.

  “No.”

  “Really?” he prodded. Fact was he wasn’t someone who opened up to many people but with Vesper it was easy to let his guard down, almost too much so, and it bothered him that she didn’t seem to feel the same. Plus, he just wanted to know everything about her. Her hesitation, however, made him realise she still wasn’t fully comfortable with him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “Do you still love her?” Vesper asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your ex. The woman your dad’s marrying.”

  His stomach coiled with pain at the thought of Lily. “No. Not anymore. But that doesn’t make it alright for him to hook up with her.”

  “No, of course it doesn’t.”

 
“I don’t even know why Lily’s marrying him.”

  “Maybe you should talk to her.”

  “So she can tell the asshole how much this whole thing is bothering me? I bet he’ll love that,” Tristan muttered.

  “Who cares what he thinks? If talking to your ex is going to give you closure, you need to do it for yourself.”

  “I don’t want to give my father the satisfaction of knowing he can still hurt me.” Before Vesper could argue with him further he turned towards her. His gaze trailed down the length of her body, from head to toe, consuming her. Of all the places he could be tonight, he ended up at hers. That scared the fuck out of him. “I should go. You look like you’re busy.”

  “I’m working on an assignment.”

  He put the empty plate aside and stood up, giving her a small smile. “Thanks for listening.”

  “I didn’t really do much.”

  “You listened, and you didn’t laugh.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I did do a lot. Guess that makes me the new Mother Teresa.”

  Chuckling, he headed to the door.

  “I’m sorry about what he’s doing to you,” Vesper said softly once they were at the door. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

  “‘Night, Vesper. Thanks for everything.” Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her temple. Instantly she stiffened, but seemed to relax after a few seconds, wrapping her arms around him. The gesture took him by surprise considering how prickly she was around him.

  The scent of her shampoo filled his senses, and he clung to her tighter, holding her. Her body was pressed against him, curving into his perfectly. He wondered if he fucked her right then and there would his insatiable curiosity and desire for her finally end? Immediately, he pulled away. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Before he was tempted to do something stupid, he exited the apartment. Walking to the elevator, he could feel her eyes boring into his back, but he refused to turn around.

  Chapter Seven

  Vesper was folding clean napkins at work when she finally decided to take the leap. “Jess?” She fixed her attention on the redhead who was working across from her. “You have Tristan’s phone number, don’t you?”

  Jessica glanced up, mischief flashing in her eyes. “I do. Why?”

  “Can you text it to me? I have to ask him something.”

  “Ask him what?”

  “None of your business, Jess,” Vesper retorted, shaking her head with exasperation. Jessica was always bugging her about dating more, occasionally even volunteering to set her up but Vesper always refused with the excuse of being too busy with school and work. Now Jessica was beaming at her with a knowing smile.

  “Fine. I’ll give you his number, but only if you promise to share every detail about what he’s like in bed.”

  Vesper rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  “Why not? He’s hot.”

  “Never mind. Just forget I asked you anything.”

  “Okay, okay, calm down.” Jessica pulled out her cell. A second later Vesper felt her own phone vibrate with what she assumed was a text message containing Tristan’s phone number. Of course she refused to check it in front of Jessica who was still grinning at her mischievously. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  Jessica’s smile grew wider. “You like him.”

  “I do not.”

  “I didn’t think he was your type.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Because I know you’re not into hot guys. Plus he’s rich, and I bet you hate that too. Ugly and poor is more up your alley.”

  “Oh yeah, totally, and Tristan has a sense of humor so, you know, third strike.” Vesper winked. “Hot, rich guys who make me laugh are such a turn off.”

  “Ugh, I know!” Jessica huffed. “Now I totally get why you’re not into that loser.”

  Vesper chuckled, shaking her head.

  *****

  Later that night Vesper was in bed, pondering whether to call Tristan or not. His hurt face was still vivid in her mind. She felt horrible for judging him, for assuming he had never experienced any real pain in life because of his wealth. That was two weeks ago and since then she’d thought about him every day, wondering how he was coping. Finally gathering some courage, she dialed his number. Tristan picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.” Her voice was surprisingly calm, betraying none of the nervousness she felt even though her stomach was aflutter with nerves.

  “Who’s this?”

  His tone was soft and relaxed over the phone, and she was struck with the visual of him lounging on a comfortable couch somewhere. “It’s Vesper.” There was a pause on his end, causing her to wonder if she’d made a mistake in calling him.

  “Vesper.”

  The way he said her name set her heart racing, his voice smooth, velvety and unbelievably sexy.

  “How do you have my number?”

  Of course he was going to bring that up. Jackass. “I got it from Jessica.”

  “Really?”

  He sounded entirely too pleased with himself.

  “If this is a problem–”

  “Did I say that?” he interjected. “I’m just surprised you went to all that effort.”

  “I called to find out if you’re doing okay.” He didn’t respond for several seconds and the silence grew strained, the tension palpable. “It’s late. I probably caught you at a bad time.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Now it was her turn to be quiet. Although she’d imagined their conversation many times, she had never actually thought about the specifics, or how awkward the moment would be. Cradling the phone against her shoulder, she started picking at her nail polish.

  “Don’t tell me I bored you to sleep already,” he remarked in a dry tone.

  “You didn’t. I’m still here.”

  “Did you really call because you were worried about me?”

  “You’re acting like I offered you a kidney or something.”

  “I didn’t know you cared, Vesper.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Someone needs to since you refuse to do it.”

  “You can always hire someone to follow you around and lavish you with compliments.”

  “Want a job?”

  “No,” she chuckled. “You’d probably be a horrible boss.”

  “And you’d probably sue me for sexual harassment.”

  “You could always try not harassing me.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  She smiled to herself. “You still haven’t answered my question. Are you okay?”

  Exhaling a heavy sigh, Tristan was quiet for a while before responding. “I’m dealing with it.”

  “Well, that’s all you can really do.”

  “You know what would make me feel better?”

  “What?”

  “Tell me what you’re wearing,” he said seductively.

  Vesper burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “I really am,” he said cockily. “Come on, tell me.”

  “Fine.” She turned to the side, snuggling her pillow. “I’m wearing these thick grey sweats, and a baggy wool sweater, and really comfy leg warmers.”

  “God, that sounds sexy.”

  “I know. I’m so hot right now.”

  “Take a pic. Send it to me.”

  “Shut up.” His soft chuckle brought a smile to her lips, and she found herself wishing he was there with her. Immediately, she chastised herself for the thought. Pushing the pillow away, she sat up. “I should let you get back to whatever you’re doing.”

  “You can’t get me all ex
cited and then leave me hanging.”

  “Can’t I?”

  “Don’t be a tease, Vesper.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault if the idea of me dressed like an old lady turns you on.”

  “To be fair, everything about you turns me on.”

  Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Tristan, you can’t say stuff like that to me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  “Really? ’cause it sounds like you’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

  “Tristan, stop. Please.”

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll stop. If that’s what you really want.”

  “It is.” She switched the phone from one ear to the other. “You probably think it’s lame or whatever but I don’t have a lot of friends. I never did.”

  “With your charming personality? Impossible.”

  She smiled at his sarcastic tone. “You’re sweet when you’re not acting like a jackass, and I like you, but only as a friend. That’s all I want. Friendship. And it’s all I can give you.”

  Seconds passed, the air laden with tension, and Vesper grew more anxious. It wasn’t until he finally spoke that she realised she’d actually been holding her breath.

  “Okay.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised. “You know that means you can’t flirt with me anymore.”

  “You sound more disappointed than me.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “I figured,” he said with resignation.

  “Do you want me to let you go?”

  “Why? You think I don’t want to talk to you anymore because you want us to be platonic?”

  The amusement in his tone was a welcome surprise. “Well, I wasn’t sure. Some guys get really pissy when they think they’re not going to get any.”

  “I’m an asshole, but I’m not that big of an asshole. Besides, I need someone like you in my life. With you around I can’t get too cocky.”

  She didn’t know why that made her so happy. “Where are you?”