The front door slammed open, and Tristan strolled lazily into the cabin. He’d just come back from a run and his hair was slightly damp, his shirt off—revealing his perfectly sculpted chest and abs. She swallowed. She didn’t much like him, but she wasn’t blind. He was hot. More than hot. Broad shoulders, washboard abs, with that bad boy messy vibe that everyone loved.
She glanced back at her book, ignoring him like she always did, but before she could read the first line, something heavy settled down at the other end of the couch. She glanced up and found him sprawled at the other end, arms braced against the back cushions, feet up on the coffee table. She cleared her throat, making herself smaller on the other end—because this was odd. Normally Tristan didn’t stick around for this long. Normally he had a crew of people vying for his attention that would pull him away. She knew for a fact there was a cabin full of girls just across the lake who would volunteer for the job. She’d seen them with her own eyes. Splashing around all week, practically naked, obvious in their attempts to grab Tristan’s attention.
Before she knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and snatched the book right out of her hands. “Let’s go swimming,” he said, leaving her mouth open, and heart pounding.
She blinked a few times, not knowing what to say as he placed her novel on the coffee table.
She was so confused by his behavior she had a hard time breathing. “I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, pushing herself to the edge of the couch to grab her book again.
He quickly blocked her. “You haven’t done anything all weekend.”
“So?” she replied, not attempting to hide her irritation. “Renee’s sick—if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed.” He smiled before leaning back in his seat again. “Renee snores like a jackhammer.” A loud grumble came bellowing down the stairs again and Tristan raised his brows in response. “See?”
Samantha laughed, but then shook her head and hit his arm. “You’re mean.”
He shrugged. “Just because she’s sick doesn’t mean we shouldn’t enjoy ourselves. This is our last night of vacation. Monday morning we leave for home. I pack for college, and you get ready for another year of high school. Don’t make me look like a loser splashing around in the lake by myself.”
She grinned at the imagery, but couldn’t help glancing over. “You won’t be alone.” She lifted her chin to the west end of the lake. “Those girls have been dying for your attention all weekend.”
He set his feet to the ground, leaned forward and laughed under his breath. But it wasn’t a laugh of happiness or humor; it was something else.
“What? Are half naked women not your type?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
He glanced over at the kitchen, as though contemplating ending this conversation, but he met her eyes again, offering the bluest storm she’d ever seen in her life. “I wanted to spend my last night with you.”
Her heart squeezed. Like the air had been sucked from her body. She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason he sounded serious.
Samantha forced herself to keep breathing, disgusted by the fact he affected her so easily. She didn’t think it was possible, but she felt even more uncomfortable than before. Why would Tristan want to spend his last night at the lake with her? Why would he want to spend his last night with her alone? And why did the fact he said so cause a conflicted feeling to form in her stomach? A mixture of butterflies, adrenaline, and nausea.
She looked toward the cabin door, battling her wild heart and the parts of her that wanted to let it loose.
“Come on,” he said, bumping her arm with his shoulder. “I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”
She crossed her arms at her stomach, wondering if she was about to throw up.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that. I’m just surprised the word ‘gentleman’ is a part of your vocabulary.”
His blue eyes danced with amusement and he started laughing. “Go upstairs and change, Sammie. I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.” He pushed himself off the couch, not waiting for a reply, and headed to his bedroom in the basement.
She waited for the door to close before taking a much-needed breath. For some reason, he assumed she would meet him, even without an answer. But she knew why. Because requests like that were all it ever took from Tristan Montgomery. He had the body of a God, all six foot something of him, and his wild surfer boy hair was the blond icing on top of the beautifully sculpted cake. She knew she should ignore him and continue reading, but her heart had never pounded so hard in her life. In spite of herself, she was curious about what it would be like to spend an evening with Tristan Montgomery. Curious to see if what everyone said about him was true…
She smoothed her hair behind her ears and headed upstairs. Renee was buried under a mound of blankets, and rolled on the mattress toward the door when Samantha entered the loft.
“Hey,” Renee said in a hoarse whisper. “Have I been sleeping long?”
“Hey,” Samantha replied, smiling as she sat softly on the side of the bed. “Just all day. How are you feeling?”
Renee shrugged. “Eh, could be better.” She frowned. “Sorry I ruined your weekend.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” Samantha shook her head. “I finally caught up on all the reading I’ve been wanting to do this summer. For what it’s worth, I’m team Edward.”
Renee wrinkled her nose and flashed a sleepy grin. “What time is it? Are you coming to bed?”
“No…” She looked away. “Tristan actually asked me to go to the lake with him—for some reason I’m actually considering it.”
Renee’s eyes narrowed, analyzing her in a way that made Samantha fear she could see her heart. That she knew Tristan had affected her downstairs, and Samantha’s stomach rolled with the thought of it.
“You should go,” Renee finally stated.
Samantha looked down to her hands, her heart flipping with discomfort. “I don’t know—”
“It’ll make me feel better. I feel bad you’ve been stuck in here all weekend when you could have been home having fun.”
“I haven’t been stuck—”
“Go, Sammie. It’s our last night. I know it’s Tristan, but maybe you’ll meet some other guys. There are guys here; I’ve seen them walking around through the window.” She turned back around. “And you need to get out—if only for a little while.”
Samantha looked down at her fingers, thinking it would be so much easier to turn Steven down if she was able to tell him she had met someone else. “Okay.” She looked up at Renee again, then reached out to adjust the blankets around her friend’s shoulders. “I’ll go, but only for a little while.”
4
Chapter Four
Six years earlier
It was almost eight thirty when Samantha walked out on the back deck to look for Tristan. The night was warm, but the breeze off the lake offered just enough relief to make the August evening pleasant. Her long blond hair was braided over one shoulder, and she clasped a red-striped beach towel firmly at her chest.