I Just Need You - J. Nathan Page 0,32
we all know?”
Elodie glanced around the room, ready to say something she didn’t want anyone—including Marco who stood against a nearby wall—to hear. “That you want your bodyguard.”
My eyes widened.
Elodie pushed her glasses up her nose. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” I assured her.
She looked unconvinced. “I’ve seen him outside your room.”
“So?”
“So, have you ever heard of a movie star’s bodyguard sitting on the floor outside her room?”
“I’m not a movie star,” I countered.
“Well, if we’re not getting any action—”
“Speak for yourself,” Alice cut Elodie off.
Elodie rolled her eyes. “If I’m not getting any action, someone needs to.”
“What my friend is trying to say,” Alice interrupted. “Is that since you have a sexy as hell man sitting right outside your door…”
I gnawed on my bottom lip as my eyes wandered from hers, knowing his post outside my room may have changed to inside my room.
Elodie pointed across the table at me, accusingly. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell us,” Alice said, leaning closer and clearly jumping on the grilling bandwagon. Traitor.
“He may have sat in my room last night.”
They both threw back their heads and groaned dramatically.
“What the hell?” Elodie whined.
“Girl, you are the luckiest person I’ve ever met,” Alice said.
I used to feel like one of the luckiest girls in the world. My dad always made sure to make me feel that way. But after France, I felt like fate was plotting against me. Hell, the Frenchman all but assured me that it was.
“He definitely wants you,” Elodie said.
“He’s just making sure I’m safe.”
Alice popped another onion ring into her mouth. “Safe my ass.”
***
I finished my homework around eleven then changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. I lay on my side facing the door, waiting for Tristan’s shadow to appear. Would I need to ask him to come in? Would he wait to see if I paced the floor? Would he just come in?
My conversation with the girls over dinner played through my mind. Had they been right about what I may or may not have been feeling? My life was such a mess and threatening to only get worse. Could I really be having feelings for my bodyguard? Or was I just feeling appreciative that he was looking out for me and being honest about the threats against me when no one else was?
There was a light tap on my door after midnight. I crawled out of bed and padded over to the door, pressing my ear to it.
“Kresley?” Tristan whispered.
Goosebumps erupted on my skin. Dammit. I opened my door.
Tristan stood there in shorts and a T-shirt, but made no move to enter my room.
“Are you coming in?” I asked.
He hesitated. “Is that what you need?”
I stared into his eyes for a long time. Did he want to come in? Was he only doing what he thought I needed? “I’m not sure. But I kind of think so.”
He stepped forward and I stepped back into my room.
My heart drummed faster. A rush of emotions, and dare I say desire, flooded me. This feeling I was having—this pull—was not what I felt for Chris. This was something else. Something I was having more and more difficulty shutting off even though I needed to.
Tristan moved into my room and closed the door. “Get into bed.”
“Do you say that to all the girls?”
His glare told me he was in no mood for jokes.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I climbed underneath my comforter and turned onto my side to face him.
He sat in the desk chair beside my bed. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands wringing in front of him.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“And you don’t look like you’re asleep. Go to sleep.”
I lay there with my eyes open, watching him contemplating something for a long time.
His eyes finally cut to mine. “You told Marco what I told you.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Are you mad?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he clipped.
“You do realize you’ve got split personalities, right?”
He glared at me.
“There’s nice Tristan. Then bossy Tristan. And, my least favorite, mean Tristan.”
“Well, all three Tristan’s can take their ass across the hall and leave you alone.” He made to stand.
“And then there’s stubborn Tristan. And stubborn Tristan can sit his ass down.”
He scoffed.
“I haven’t seen a ring on your finger,” I said. “Does that mean no woman has been able to put up with all four Tristans?”
“I’m only twenty-five.”
“People get married at all ages.”
“If they’re crazy,” he countered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Why aren’t