A/N: I just want to thank everyone who is reading this and all the people who reviewed, I never anticipated such a response, and it blows my mind to think so many of you are reading my story and enjoying it. Just know that I appreciate it, a lot. Oh, and don't worry, trory will happen, but like all good things, it comes to those who wait.
To Sur for building my confidence like no one else, Jamie for being perhaps my biggest cheerleader, and the Llams for all her encouragement.
Now without further adieu…
Chapter 2: Expect the Unexpected
Tristan wandered across the lavish estate not bothering to pay attention to where he was going, lost in thoughts of the evening's events. Falling back into his sexually charged banter with Rory had been easy, they had chemistry and the fact that she seemed to appreciate it this time around only added to their fire. He wanted her that much was clearly evident and time had done little to change that. What he hadn't counted on was Paris. Somewhere along the way she had grown up and he couldn't deny that her newfound confidence was attractive and incredibly sexy. Plus he couldn't help but wonder what would be if she concentrated all her fire, all her passion and drive on something less than academic.
He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, wondering if any of this even mattered. Paris wasn't interested in him and he couldn't be sure Rory was either; besides some twisted love triangle was the last thing he needed. He had just come back to Hartford; he'd be going to college in three months, what did any of this matter anyway? It mattered because he wanted them and for once in his life he knew he might not be able to have either and he certainly couldn't have both.
"Watch it!" The voice startled him causing him to lose his train of thought and footing as he stumbled backwards before coming to a halt. "Not so swift for a military school graduate."
"Paris," he replied skeptically, not sure what to make of her comment or her for that matter. Between their earlier interactions and his previous thoughts he was sure nothing good could come from this encounter.
"Take a seat." He looked at her quizzically as he sat beside her on the grass. What had he missed? Not twenty minutes ago she seemed as if she would prefer anything to his presence and now she was inviting him to sit with her – at least she was consistently confusing, he mused.
The two sat in silence for a while; both caught up in their own thoughts, unsure how to break the thickening silence that had fallen over them.
It was Paris who spoke first, "I'm sorry."
Her words were spoken softly and it took Tristan a moment to comprehend what was being said. He simply nodded and replied in an equally hushed tone, "Me too."
After that, they fell back into the silence - this one was comfortable and somehow filled with understanding. It was funny how quickly emotions could change.
"Paris?"
His voice startled her, she had grown accustomed to the silence and his breaking it surprised her, even still she did not let this on. "Yes?"
He stayed silent for a moment and she wondered whether or not he was going to speak, but before she could say something else his voice cut through her thoughts once again. "This is nice."
"Yeah," she agreed.
As they lapsed into yet another silence Tristan's mind was in overdrive. He couldn't stop himself from taking sideways glances at Paris every couple of seconds. Something about them sitting there and not talking unnerved him more than he would like. He was very aware of how close they were sitting and he finally gave up playing games and openly stared at the girl. Her hair was tied back in a bun but instead of making her look old as he might have thought it gave her an elegance he couldn't explain. Perhaps it was the tendrils of blonde that had escaped the confines of the bun and were framing her face but he had never seen her look quite so beautiful. His eyes descended down her neck, slightly alarmed as he caught himself fighting the urge to lean over and run his lips over the soft skin there. As the thought permeated his brain completely he immediately adverted his eyes, an uncharacteristic flush tainting his cheeks.
Paris was very aware of his eyes on her, studying her, but she didn't move. For some reason she found herself afraid to call attention to his actions. A part of her was relishing this, Tristan DuGrey was checking her, Paris Gellar, out; but the other part of her was berating herself from taking such pleasure in this fact. After all he was probably just looking for a new piece of ass. Yet, she couldn't convince herself fully of that, either. She felt his gaze leave her and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding; only instead of feeling the expected relief she couldn't stop the nagging disappointment in the pit of her stomach. She knew she shouldn't be concerned with whether he wanted her or not especially after their encounter earlier but the part of her that still clung to her first real crush was crushed.
Her mind was in such a battle with itself that she did not notice Tristan's shift in position beside her. That is until she felt the distinct softness of his lips grazing the juncture between her neck and shoulder moments before his hands wrapped around her abdomen, sending heat rushing through her body, her mind effectively stopped. She provided no resistance as he pulled her body closer to his, her back flush against his chest all the while his lips leaving a trail of hot kisses up and down the column of her neck. Before she could stop herself a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips and she turned her head to the side giving him better access.
Somehow he had turned her around, he was now kissing along her jaw, Paris's mind numb with anticipation of what was to come. It seemed forever in her fogged brain before his lips descended onto her own. Her hands, as if on their own, found their way around his neck playing with the soft hairs at the nape. His hands were pressed into her back, drawing her body closer to his until they were melded together, his tongue delving into the recesses of her mouth awakening latent desires within her.
After minutes of endless kisses they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath. It was then, his forehead resting against her own, as her erratic breathing slowed to its normal pace, oxygen returning to her brain that her senses seemed to clear. Jerking away hastily she immediately bolted from his lap, standing up, putting as much distance between them as she could without completely running away.
Running a hand through his hair Tristan looked up at Paris a sheepish grin on his face. He wasn't sure what had come over him, one moment he was trying his damnedest not to act on his impulses and the next thing he knew he was kissing Paris. As soon as she wretched herself from their embrace he realized it had been a mistake and yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
"That was a mistake," Paris stated her tone eerily calm as her pacing gave away her inner turmoil. As she paced back towards Tristan she caught his gaze, her tone harsh, "and wipe that idiotic expression off your face, you aren't five Tristan and you didn't just get caught with your hand in the cookie jar."
He fought back a smirk and the retort that sprung to his lips as a result of her words; he didn't need to add fuel to Paris's rage. Once he had managed to repress any hint of amusement he spoke, bringing himself to his feet, "It was a mistake, but that doesn't make it wrong."
Flabbergasted Paris spoke, "How can you say that? Of course it was wrong. We shouldn't be kissing Tristan. You don't even like me all that much if I remember correctly."
"It's not wrong because it was bound to happen, Par, and now that it has well we can move on," he shrugged, as if to indicate how simple the situation could be if Paris let it.
"What do you mean it was bound to happen?" she demanded, her frustration with the whole situation coming to a boiling point. Here she was freaking out and he was calm, relaxed even.
"Relax Paris," his words did nothing to relax her, if anything they only made her more upset. Her mouth set in a tight line as she glared at him. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "I just meant that while you and I are clearly not meant to be, and I am sure you will agree with me there. Somewhere along the line we wondered what it would be like with the other. I mean come on Par, I know the circumstances weren't the best but you can't tell me that after we went out the once you didn't wonder what it would have been like to kiss me."
"You're right, I can't. I wanted to know what it was like to kiss you since I was thirteen, I couldn't help it but that still doesn't explain why YOU kissed me," her pacing had stopped as she came face to face with him, her eyes ablaze with anger and frustration.
"Just because I haven't wanted to kiss you since I turned thirteen doesn't mean I've never wanted to kiss you, Paris. You might not believe me, you don't have to, but I have and well I am glad we did."
Paris stared at him incredulously trying to comprehend what he was saying, "You are glad we kissed." He nodded. "Why?"
"I thought I just explained this to you Paris. Did you get slow and inattentive in my absence?"
Ignoring his comment she continued, "Even if I believe that you wanted to kiss me, I still don't understand why, I mean what about Rory?"
"Rory has nothing to do with this and you know it," Tristan responded getting more frustrated and agitated by Paris's petulance.
Paris's anger turned to slight amusement as she watched the myriad of emotions play out on Tristan's face as the idea of Rory sunk into his head. Then shaking her head in almost condescendingly she replied, "Come on Tristan, this is me, and the looks between you and Rory earlier were not nothing."
"Perhaps," he said slowly, thinking about what he was going to say before he said it, for once. "But, even if there was something going on between Rory and I, which I am not saying there is," he waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought, "I still do not see how it has anything to do with our kissing."
"Did you lose all your intelligence when you were at military school?" Paris bit out her anger starting to flare again at his idiocy.
He glared at her, annoyed that she wasn't willing to drop the subject of Rory. He didn't know what was going on there, but he knew he didn't want to discuss it with Paris, not now anyway. "Look, can we just leave Rory out of this?" he asked almost pleadingly. "This doesn't have to be about her, it's not about her."
"Then what's it about? Who's this about?" Paris shot back, her annoyance overriding her common sense for the moment.
If he weren't so riled up he would have laughed at the inanity of her question, instead he answered with a frustrated sigh, "It's about us, Paris. You and I. Kissing."
She looked at him them, her eyes piercing his and for a moment he thought she might slap him, she had no reason to, but when had that stopped Paris from doing anything before? Instead she spoke, her voice suddenly hushed as she continued to hold his gaze, "It was a nice kiss, wasn't it?"
He smirked, "Very nice."
She merely nodded, her head now bowed as she realized what she had admitted and tried to figure out what it might reveal. Tristan always managed to leave her head spinning and now was no exception; no one else could make her so angry and annoyed in one moment and completely reflective the next. She was supposed to be above this and Tristan DuGrey was supposed to be behind her. Only he wasn't, instead he was here and he had kissed her, really kissed her, and it had been an amazing kiss, better than good, but he didn't have to know that.
Tristan watched her closely for a moment, he too wondering about the sudden shift in conversation. With it the whole atmosphere had changed, it was no longer hostile but instead had reverted back to tension filled once more. Her cheeks were colored with the faint hues of a blush and he couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking that had caused that reaction.
"Par?" his voice was soft as he reached out a hand twining his fingers with hers, watching as they swung lightly. "Do you think maybe we can start again? You know put all the bullshit behind us, be friends."
Friends, the word echoed in her brain, over and over, it was all she could do not to scream. Thirty minutes ago she would have been thrilled to get such a request from this man but now, now she wanted more. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was true. He had kissed her and while she had said it was a mistake, knew it was a mistake; she wanted it to be more. Of course he was Tristan and a kiss was a kiss, he'd had so many, with so many different girls that meant nothing, why should she be any different? But the friendship was something, right?
She glanced up at him, noting that he was still looking at their hands which he had yet to let go of. Taking a deep breath she put on what she hoped to be a real looking smile, "I'd like that."
His eyes darted to hers and the smile he wore was so genuine, so real, so unlike anything she had ever seen on his face before, she couldn't help but smile back. She knew to any outsider they must have looked ridiculous, Paris Gellar and Tristan DuGrey, holding hands and staring at each other, big goofy smiles across their faces, but she didn't care and the best part was that neither did he. Maybe, just maybe being friends wouldn't be so bad.
~*~
As Tristan wandered around the house, his mind lingered in the garden. On some level he knew that things weren't going to be as simple as he presented them. Things with Paris never were. He just assumed that this was the best path to take. He and Paris were better off friends. At least that was what he kept trying to convince himself.
He was so wrapped up in his musings that he didn't notice the person standing in his path until he almost collided with her back. Luckily for him he picked up on her presence just in time and managed to stop himself from walking into the girl as she put on her jacket. Looking up his mind sighed in frustration as he noticed just who this girl was and he wondered why the fates couldn't let him be, but he played his part all the same.
"Leaving so soon?" he queried, lowering his voice to a husky whisper as his lips grazed the shell of her ear.
The sound of his voice, so close and unexpected accompanied by the caress of her skin startled her causing her to jump back in surprise, her head instantly colliding with his jaw.
"Geez," he bit out rubbing his jaw, "You didn't have to resort to physical violence to get rid of me. A simple 'Leave me alone, Tristan' would have sufficed."
"Maybe, if you didn't sneak up on people you wouldn't be in pain," she retorted.
"I didn't sneak up on you, I happened upon you," he clarified as if this revelation would change their current scenario.
She shrugged, deciding against playing into the childish argument, instead she continued buttoning her jacket before taking a glance at her watch. "It's after midnight, I would hardly call what I'm doing as leaving soon," she scoffed, remembering his original question.
He nodded in response, his lips twisting into a smile, "It was nice seeing you again."
Her face lit up at the sincerity in his voice. No matter what she might have told herself she had missed having him around the remaining year and a half of school and it was nice to have seen him again, even if it was only for a short while. "It was, maybe we could do it again," Rory suggested, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt.
"I'd like that," he responded, flashing her a brilliant smile, causing her stomach to flutter and her throat to go dry. On instinct, he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the main entrance. Neither said a word as they walked towards the door, she was too caught up in the heat that seemed to permeate through her light jacket and shirt, practically burning her skin; he, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how his feelings could flip-flop so easily. It felt like just moments before he was wrapped up in Paris and now all he could focus on was how nice it was to just touch Rory without her pulling away.
He held the door open for her as they got to the door, letting her walk through it before he followed her out, easily falling into stride beside her. She quirked her head to the side, "Where are you going?"
He caught her gaze, amusement coloring his facial features, "Where are you going?"
Annoyance flashed across her face as she continued walking, but instead of stooping to his level she answered the question, "Home."
"And how do you plan on getting home?" he countered, clearly taking pleasure in her obvious irritation.
"My car," she answered curtly, wondering where the cordial Tristan from moments ago had gone.
He smirked, "Then, that is where I'm going."
"What?" she stopped, confused by his response, too busy wondering what he was doing to register what he was saying.
"I'm walking you to your car, Rory," his voice was light as a smile played on his lips, for a smart girl, she could be incredibly dense.
"Oh," she was suddenly shy and inwardly pleased at his revelation. "You don't have to do that."
Instead of responding he simply fell into step beside her as she once again began to walk along the long row of pricey cars that lined the street. They were silent again, in another time Rory would have continued her protestations but she no longer felt the need to push him away, instead she enjoyed the quiet company he provided even if it was for a moments time.
She stopped walking once she reached her car, leaning against the door. "You really didn't have to walk me to my car."
He merely shrugged, placing a strand of her hair behind her ear before responding, "I know, but I wanted to."
She nodded. "Thanks," her voice was soft and her smile genuine and he had to fight every urge in his body not to pull her to him and kiss her senseless. He had kissed one girl tonight and while at one time he wouldn't have thought twice about kissing another less than an hour later, he wasn't that guy anymore. Besides, both girls deserved more respect than that, more than he could provide.
"It was my pleasure." He returned her smile, and she could swear her heart skipped a beat. It was rare that one received a genuine smile from Tristan and to have it directed at her, twice in the course of minutes, well Rory couldn't help but feel she had somehow gotten very lucky.
She was so caught up in her musings that she barely noticed that he was now standing within an inch of her; it wasn't until his hand came up and caressed her cheek that she came back to the present. She felt as if she couldn't breathe as his hand traced a line down her jaw, lightly lifting her chin so that her eyes met his. He was so close, if either of them moved an inch their lips would connect, and she couldn't deny that the thought left her wanting, almost of its own accord her tongue darted out wetting her painfully dry lips. His eyes shifted at the movement, focusing on her mouth for a moment, before closing the distance between them. Her eyes slipped shut, and she had to bite back a groan of disappointment as she felt his lips graze her cheek before he pulled away entirely.
She blinked, watching in a half daze as he walked back towards the party. Stopping halfway there he turned, a smirk adorning his face as he spoke, "You should call me." And then he was gone, back to the party inside, leaving her no choice but to pull open the door and get inside the confines of her car. As she pulled away from the lavish estate she couldn't contain the goofy smile that had spread across her face. He wanted her to call him.