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