Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) (9 page)

“Bev has this really great frilly pink apron,” I told him.
 
“What would I have to do to get you to wear it while you cook for me?”

“You don’t even want to know, boo,” he said.
 

That effectively shut me up again.

Within ten minutes, he had the kitchen smelling divine.
 
I moaned as the aroma of sizzling bacon reached me.
 

His gaze flicked to me, then quickly away.
 
“Tease,” he muttered.
   

He had the pancakes done first, prepping a heaping plate for Mat.
 

“You realize that he’s six, right?” I asked, eyeing up the huge plate.

“Does he like bacon?” he asked, ignoring my comment.

“Yes!” Mat shouted from the living room.
 

Tristan handed off the plate, and I brought it to Mat in the living room.
 
Bev didn’t care if they ate on their little couches.
 
The dogs always picked up any scraps they happened to leave behind.
 

By the time I got back into the kitchen, Tristan had a biscuit breakfast sandwich waiting for me.
 
He handed it to me with a paper towel, then took a huge bite out of his own.
 

The smell of the eggs and bacon had me salivating, and I tore into the sandwich.
 
I had to close my eyes with the first bite, chewing very slowly to savor every second of it.
 

“What do you do to food to make it taste this good?” I moaned.
 

I opened my eyes when he didn’t answer me.
 
He was staring at me with a look in his eyes that made my toes start to curl.
 

He set down the uneaten half of his sandwich, striding out of the kitchen.
 

“Where are you going?” I called to him.
 

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” he called back.
 

I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or appalled when I heard my shower turning on.
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

TRISTAN

I turned the shower on, giving myself a good berating while I stripped down and got inside.
 
I’d never been the guy that had to have a girl just because she was a challenge.
 
I hated that guy, in fact.
 
I usually thought that guy was a douche bag with little to no redeeming qualities.
 

I liked to keep sex in a separate category from all other parts of my life.
 
Things just worked better that way, for all parties involved.
 
I didn’t do the girlfriend thing, and the fuck-buddy thing was full of land mines.
 

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about being inside of Danika?
She’d been crystal clear about the fact that she didn’t do the casual thing, and now that we were officially friends, that was off the table, anyway.
 
But God, the body on her
.
 
And that face.
 
She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and she didn’t even wear makeup half the time.
 
And she walked around in a skin-tight tank top and tiny shorts most days, confident about her body in a way that drove me wild.
 
I even thought her personality was sexy.
 
She didn’t put on airs.
 
She never tried to play it cool.
 
She let me know what was on her mind before I had to wonder.
 
I’d spent years dealing with chicks who thought it was cool to keep a guy guessing.
 
I was fed up with that shit.
 
Danika was like a breath of fresh air.
 
A breath of fresh air that I didn’t get to fuck.

If I’d been smart, I would have found a quick hook-up the night before, at the club.
 
Then I wouldn’t be stuck jacking myself off in the shower every time Danika looked at me funny.
 

Yes, I definitely should have found a quick hook-up last nigh
t, I thought, yet again.
 
That was what I normally did at clubs…I’d never spent five hours dancing with a girl that I knew for a fact I wouldn’t get to sleep with.
 

I stroked my rock hard cock, thinking about her rosebud mouth, and her striking gray eyes.
 
And her shapely little body.
 
Her waist was so tiny I could have spanned it with my hands, but she had the sexiest curves…and the way she walked.
 
I could have guessed she was a dancer just by the way she swung her hips as she moved.
 
Even her voice made me hard.
 
She had a soft, steady voice, her tone even, as she gave me shit about whatever she pleased.
 

I fisted my cock hard, stroking, once, twice, three times, before coming hard into the air.
 

It would have been embarrassing how fast I got myself off, if there’d been anyone else there to witness it.

I thought I’d gotten it out of my system until I walked back out into the living room and saw her bending over in those damned tiny shorts.
 
Fuck me, was I in some trouble…

We didn’t end up having to take turns taking naps, since Bev took the boys out for the afternoon.
 
We both crashed for three hours, me on the couch, and Danika on her bed.
 

I ended up cooking everyone enchiladas for dinner, just to watch the look on Danika’s face as she tasted them.

When I’d realized that I couldn’t move into my new apartment for a few weeks, even though the lease on my old apartment was already up, I hadn’t known things would turn out like
this
.
 
Still, I wasn’t complaining.
 
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d had more fun.
 

I wore a dark, collared shirt and jeans for our night out.
 
Few clubs were as strict with their dress code as the Cavendish resort, and Cory wasn’t working, so we couldn’t afford to go to Decadence.

Danika came out in tiny black satin shorts, and a crimson blouse that hugged her breasts in a way that made my mouth water.
 
She was wearing the same fuck-me heels she’d had on the night before, and it was official
—
she had killer legs.

“Fucking A,” I said, not bothering to watch my language, since the boys were already in bed.
 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, tossing her hair as she gave me a sassy grin.
 
“Is Kenny our chauffeur again?”
 

I nodded.
 
“Let’s wait outside for him.
 
If he had to ring the bell, that might wake the boys, and then there might be hell to pay.”

It was a bit of a challenge to get out of the front door without the dogs getting loose, but Danika managed it like a pro.
 

“So you don’t have a house,
or a car
?” she asked, as we made our way to the curb to wait for Kenny.
 

I smirked.
 
She didn’t pull punches, that was for sure.
 
“I have a car.
 
I loaned it to a buddy, who needed to drive to L.A. for a few days.”

“That was nice of you,” she said.
 

I shrugged.
 
“It’s not a big deal, especially since I have friends like Kenny, who will drive me around.”

“Kenny is a sweetheart,” she said, sounding like she meant it.
 

I felt my jaw clenching, though I knew it was unreasonable to be jealous.
 

“He’s a guy in a band.
 
Don’t trust
any
of us,” I warned, my voice harsher than I’d intended.

She shrugged.
 
“You all seem safe enough to me, as long as I’m not stupid enough to date any of you.”

I felt a wave of relief at her dismissive tone.
 
“Exactly.”

We ended up going to a club that ironically enough was called Tryst.
 
I shot Danika a warning look when Kenny told us where we were headed.
 
The look said ‘say a word, and I won’t cook you breakfast again’.
 

She seemed to get the point, but her grin was infuriating.
 

“You getting us free drinks at this place?” she asked.
 

“Yes,” Kenny answered.
 
“Our buddy Doug is working one of the bars tonight.”

“Do you have connections at every club in town?” she questioned.

“Just about,” Kenny conceded.
 
“When you’re trying to promote a local band, you tend to get to know a lot of the people working the clubs.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that you guys seem to go out every night, too,” she shot back.

Tryst was packed.
 
Still, the bouncer at the door recognized us on sight, and let us in with one small nod.
 
Getting in was always half the battle.

We found Doug at one of the main bars in the club.
 
He nodded when he saw me, waving me over.
 
His bar was so packed that I had to shoulder my way in.
 

“Got you guys a table,” he said into my ear, voice pitched low.
 
“And bottle service.
 
It’s your lucky night.”

I grinned.
 
“Thanks, man.”

“Sure thing.
 
It’s not like you’ve never hooked me up.
 
Who’s that fucking hottie you walked in with?”

My grin wilted a little.
 
“My friend, Danika.
 
She’s off-limits.”

He sighed.
 
“All the ones that look like that usually are.”
 

A VIP hostess showed us to our seats, courtesy of Doug.
 
She was cute, and shot me some very inviting looks.
 

I smiled, not really considering it.
 
I’d invited Danika out to dance, and by God, we were going to dance, even if I
was
jonesing for a hook-up.

Danika gave me a mischievous smile as we slid onto the cushioned VIP bench.
 

“So where did you learn to cook like that?” she asked.
 
“Those were the best enchiladas I’ve ever had, and enchiladas are one of my favorites.”

I smiled, thinking of my mother.
 
“My mother taught me to cook.
 
You should try
her
enchiladas.
 
They put mine to shame, especially since I was missing some of the ingredients for pico on top.”

“Does she live here in Vegas?”

“Yes.
 
In fact, I’m due for a family dinner soon, and I’m going to make you come with me.”

Her eyes widened.
 
“You want me to meet your parents?”

My face stiffened a little, but I didn’t let it show.
 
It couldn’t be a sore subject if I didn’t allow it to be.

“I want you to meet my
mother
.
 
I’ve
never met my father.
 
He left the second my mother told him she was pregnant.
 
Never bothered to look him up.”

She nodded, her eyes searching my face.
 
She swallowed.
 
“We’re in the same boat, my friend.
 
I’ve not a clue who my father is.
 
My mother would never tell me a thing about him.”

I blinked, a little taken aback.
 
It was selfish, but I felt comforted by the thought that she and I had both experienced something so painful.
 
It made me feel less alone, and so connected to her in ways I couldn’t remember being connected to anyone besides family since I could remember.
   

“No wonder we get along so well,” I finally responded.
 
“We have more in common than we’d realized.
 
Is your mother in Vegas, too?”

She shrugged, one side of her mouth jerking down.
 
“I’m not exactly sure.
 
She and I never really got along.
 
We don’t keep in touch.”

I’d learned my lesson when I’d asked her about her sister, so I didn’t ask her why on earth she didn’t know where her mother was, though I was curious as hell about it.

“So what’s a good day for you to come meet my mother?”

She smiled, the clouds in her silver eyes clearing.
 
“So you’re not asking, but telling me, that I’m going to meet your mother?”

I gave her a rueful smile.
 
“I’m letting you pick the day, at least.
 
You have nothing to worry about.
 
You two are going to love each other.”

“If she’s anything like you and Jared, I can’t imagine we won’t get along.”

That brought my mind to my baby brother.
 
It didn’t matter that he was an adult, he’d always be my baby brother.
 
I’d have done anything for him, anything at all, but I knew that he was a little upset that I’d told him that he couldn’t ask Danika out.
 
We had very strict brother rules about dating the same woman, but since I wasn’t dating her, he thought it was unfair that I’d warned him off.
 
Still, whether he understood it or not, I thought he’d respect my wishes.
 

The waitress brought out our bottle service, and I saw Danika’s eyes widen.
 
I made a note to myself that I owed Doug big time.
 

“I’m impressed.
 
Grey Goose bottle service.
 
You’ve got some pretty good connections, for a homeless guy.”

I laughed, already mixing dirty martinis for us.

“Just how dirty do you want this?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.