But not anymore. I’m the poor girl and he’s the rich boy. And that’s okay. I can ease right into his life if I need to, though—whoa, I’m thinking way too far ahead but I can’t help it. Now that Tristan and I have cleared the air, I can see a future with him, and I think he can see one too.

Our relationship isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. We’re working on it together. He’s all in. I know he is. And I’m all in too.

I end up playing with Conrad for over two hours and he decimates me. To the point where my vision is blurry and my head is spinning. I stagger back to my dark bedroom with a bad case of motion sickness and I collapse on top of my bed, closing my eyes to ward off the dizziness.

I’m so tired. I should brush my teeth. Wash my face. I shrug out of my sweater and toss it on the floor. Shimmy out of my leggings and kick them onto the floor too. I turn over on my side, drifting off into sleep when I hear a tiny ping.

Another one.

Then another.

I sit straight up, pushing my hair out of my face. The ping comes again, the sound of something hitting glass. Like my window.

Scrambling out of bed, I go to my window and pull the blinds back, peeking outside. There standing on the other side of the rosebush is Tristan, his arm back as he throws a piece of bark at the glass.

Ping!

Yanking up the blinds, I stand in front of the window, smiling at him as I open it. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

He flicks his chin at me. Oh, he looks so good. Clad in a thick navy blue sweatshirt he likes to wear and jeans, he tosses the rest of the bark he was clutching onto the ground. “I’m here to see you.”

I lean against the windowsill, giddiness threatening to take over and make me act ridiculous. He came home early for me. He missed Christmas with his parents for me. “Why didn’t you knock on the door like a normal person?”

“I thought this was more romantic.” He shrugs.

My heart threatens to pound out of my chest. “Are you calling yourself a romantic?”

His expression goes serious. “I’m a romantic only for you.”

Oh. Wow. He needs to get in my bedroom. Now. “Want me to let you in?”

“Whatever it takes to get to you, angel. I’ve been stuck in an airport for hours trying to make my way back here. If I have to hack through this fucking rosebush and crawl through your window to get you in my arms, I’ll do it.”

He’s said those words to me before. I love hearing them again. “Meet me at the front door.” I shut the window and drop the blinds, then run to the door. I undo the locks, open the door and throw myself at Tristan. He catches me, his arms going around me, his mouth pressed against my forehead as he hugs me tight.

“You feel good back in my arms, Ali,” he whispers into my hair.

I squeeze him, rub my face against the solid wall of his chest. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He reaches for my face, his fingers slipping beneath my chin and he tips my head back. “I couldn’t stand being without you,” he says, his glowing gaze wandering all over my face, like he’s trying to take me in all at once. “I finally couldn’t take it anymore and went to the airport yesterday.”

I frown. “Yesterday?”

Tristan nods, smoothing back my hair from my forehead. “I had to wait on standby. That took forever. Once I finally got a seat, the flight was delayed because of weather. There was a blizzard.”

“That sounds dangerous,” I murmur.

“And frustrating. By the time I finally made it to San Francisco, I was so fucking relieved. Only to discover because of the delay, they gave away my seat on my connecting flight. So I had to wait on standby again.”

“Oh, Tristan.” I can’t believe he did all that for me. Suffered through traveling woes just to be with me on Christmas.

I remember saying when this first started between us that I wanted him to show me how he felt. His words were meaningless. He was always full of words. I wanted to see actions.

What he suffered through to get to me says so much. More than his words could ever tell me.

“Oh great, now I gotta deal with you two again?” Conrad appears in front of us, his hair a mess, his expression sleepy. He looks at Tristan. “What are you doing here? Are you Santa Claus or what?”

“Ho motherfucking ho,” Tristan jokes as he claps Conrad on the shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of Alexandria for me.”

Conrad’s eyes widen. “Yeah. Uh, sure man. No problem.” He looks at me. “Merry Christmas to you both.”

“Merry Christmas,” I tell him as I pull out of Tristan’s hold and take his hand, dragging him back to my bedroom with me. The moment the door’s closed I’m pressed against it, Tristan’s hands on my waist, his mouth on mine. He kisses me long and deep, his tongue searching, his hands gripping me tight.

I wrap myself around him and he lifts me up, his hands on my butt, his erection rubbing the aching spot between my legs. When he finally breaks the kiss to run his lips down my neck I’m breathless, overcome with the need to get him naked and in my bed.

“You greeted me at the front door in just your underwear,” he murmurs against my skin.

Oh. Crap. “I have a T-shirt on,” I point out weakly.

“Yeah, but no pants. Wearing sexy black lacy panties too.” He lifts his head to smile at me. “You gave Conrad quite the show.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper, hanging my head. “I’m an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot.” He touches my cheek and I tip my head back, smiling up at him. “You look adorable in those sexy black lacy panties.”

I rub myself against his hard cock, driving both him and myself out of our minds. He has way too much clothing on. “I think I’d look even better out of them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nod. “I think you should take them off me and see.”

He raises a brow. “I’d love to do that.”

“You would?”

“Mmm, hmm.” He squeezes my butt, pulling me in as close as I can get to him. “Love to do just about anything to you as long as you’re naked.”

“Only if you’re naked too,” I point out.

“I can make that happen,” he says solemnly.

“Really?”

“Promise.”

February 14th

I’m a jittery, anxious mess, nervous as fuckity-fuck. To the point that everyone notices—and I mean everyone, and they’re all giving me endless shit for it too.

“What the heck’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a freak.” Kelli asks.

“You have restless leg syndrome or what?” That’s from Shep.

“If you don’t stop pacing you’re going to wear a path in the carpet.” That original line is from Conrad.

“Whatever you’re planning on doing, you’ll be fine.” Steven, that too-astute motherfucker reassures me.

There were other comments but I’ll refrain from sharing them. I haven’t seen Jade or Lucy today, and I’m sure they would have commentary as well so it’s best that they’re off doing those Valentine’s Day things girls are so wont to do on this shitty, hateful holiday.

I know this is the holiday of love and all that bullshit but I’ve never been a big believer. Always thought this day was created to make people feel either guilty or unlovable. I’ve felt both plenty of times, but not any longer.

Now that Alexandria is in my life, I know without a doubt I’m loved.

“Where is she?” I ask Kelli, my hand in my front pocket, jangling my keys again and again. She sends me a look, like she wants to kick my ass before she checks her phone.

“She’s still at work,” she says, her gaze lifting to meet mine. “She’s off at five. You already know this.”

I do, but I’m anxious. It’s four-forty-two right now. “Can’t she get off early?”

“Why don’t you ask her if she can get off early?” Kelli retorts.