Chapter 11: Surrender

"Do you love him?" he asked, pocketed his hands in his trousers and leaned back against the door of her bedroom in Boston. She turned away from him and continued to pack her bag for her trip to Stars Hollow. "Rory?"

"I don't know how I feel, Tristan."

"What else is new?" he scoffed and moved into the room, coming to stand beside her.

They were standing near her bed; her duffel bag beside her bed was wide open. She looked up at him but didn't turn to him fully, very much aware of the affect he was having on her pulse. He did this often, invaded her personal space because he knew that it made her nervous, it made her vulnerable…made her hot. 

"Tristan, please don't do this."

He touched her shoulder, silently urging her to turn completely towards him. Unable to stop herself, she did and made her first mistake. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I know you don't."

"How can you -"

"Because," he cut her off and kissed the side of her face, "he doesn't make you feel the way I make you feel." He brought his lips to hers and applied the barest amount of pressure. "He doesn't make you want him."

She shuddered involuntarily; knowing he was right. She had been holding back on the urge to kiss him all night. "Tristan, please."

"Please what?" he asked, kissing her once more. His hands traveled down her back and rested on her rear, molding him to her. "Stop kissing you?"

She closed her eyes and surrendered to this kiss. "No, don't stop."

"I won't." He smiled against her lips and gently pushed her back onto the bed. Without thinking, she lay back against the mattress and pulled him down on her. He kissed her again and then drew back, looking at her seriously. "You don't love him."

She shook her head, heady with desire. "I never did."

It had been so damn easy for him to seduce her, to get her into bed with him again. She had promised herself time and again she wouldn't be tempted, wouldn't yield to his kisses, and would spurn his advances. But he had power over her, held her in some kind of spell that made her break her oath and follow him willingly to the nearest bed. Hell, it wasn't even always a bed. Anywhere that was comfortable would do.

Oh but the sex was fantastic. She was addicted to it. Whether they were caught up in the heat of the moment, or when things were good and they were having a romantic night out or even if it was just a form of release for either of them, the sex was amazing.

Why was she thinking about sex with Tristan DuGrey?

Because she was sitting, bored out of her mind, at a table with the DAR members and her grandmother as they discussed inane topics and swapped useless gossip. Emily looked just as uninterested as she felt. She merely smiled and made the appropriate comments when a question or opinion was directed at her. Rory suspected her grandmother wasn't always this quiet at meetings.

"Hey Grandma? Would you like to take a walk?"

Emily looked like she had just been let out of a cage. "That would be lovely, dear. Excuse me ladies. Me and my granddaughter have lots of catching up to do."

The other ladies exchanged glances and gave Emily that sympathetic look that was almost as patronizing as the way one woman said, "Of course, Emily. You go take a walk and clear your head."

As soon as both Gilmore exited the confines of the dining room and stepped on to the lush grass of the extensive Country Club garden, they both let out a sigh of relief. Rory grinned at her grandmother. "I was just about ready to scream."

Emily let out an uncharacteristic chuckle. "I cannot believe that I never noticed how tiresome Elsie's speeches can be. Or how irritating Marie is when she just has to tell us about what her grandson did during his school play. As if she ever spends enough time with the boy."

"I know!"

They both laughed heartily and then stopped, looking at each other with big smiles. Emily hooked her arm with Rory's and led her down the makeshift dirt path. "You know, Richard loved it here."

Rory smiled as she clasped her hand over her grandmother's. "Yes, he did. I remember the first time he brought me here. It was that day you insisted he teach me to golf because I needed a sport for Chilton."

Emily laughed. "Oh yes. He was so reluctant to take you but when he came home he couldn't stop talking about how much fun he had, how great you were…I think he saw part of him in you for the very fist time."

Tears stung the back of her eyes but she managed to keep them at bay. "I still have that Tiger Woods hat you gave me. Tristan makes me wear it sometimes when he's feeling silly."

The words had just tumbled out of her mouth and she flinched a little when she heard the wistfulness is her own voice. She hoped that Emily would ignore the comment and let it slide but one from the look on her grandmother's face, Rory knew she had realized it too. If it had been anyone else, they wouldn't have pried. But not Emily Gilmore. She was too much like Lorelai in that respect.

Rory steeled her nerves to answer her the inevitable question that came in the form of: "Tristan's leaving…was that you're decision or his?"

"Entirely his." She rubbed her hands together, trying not to get worked up. She had promised and convinced herself she wouldn't think about, talk about or discuss Tristan. Evidently, it was not working. "I'd rather we not discuss this, Grandma."

"You brought up his name, dear."

"I know," she answered through gritted teeth. "But he left for the very reason I don't want to discuss him."

"And what's the reason?"

"Because he didn't want me to stress out about him when I had other things to focus on." It wasn't until she had said it out loud that she had finally realized his intention for leaving. She had tried to make it about his lack of responsibility and the fact that he always left when things got rough but the truth was he was doing it for her, he was always doing it for her.

Emily stopped walking and turned Rory towards her. "If anything, Lorelai Leigh, leaving was not the right thing to do."

"How can you say that?"

"I can say that because I just lost my husband," Emily returned softly, her eyes darkened with anger and sadness. "I just lost the only man I ever loved, Rory. That is not something you take for granted, child."

"Grandma- " she stated weakly.

"There is no excuse. Happiness is not a right."

Rory sighed shakily, her eyes watering. "Grandma, it's harder for me and Tristan."

"Things are only as hard as you make them to be," Emily said, softer this time. After a pause, she sighed. "You're so much like your mother."

Rory wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and let out a chuckle as they continued to walk through the gardens. "I was just thinking that about you."

"I suppose there are worse things to be."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Hello Rory," Tristan greeted her coolly as she opened the door of her dorm room. It had been three days since they had slept together for the first time. He had been debating on whether or not to confront her about what had happened – the morning after hadn't followed the way he had imagined. He hated that he felt the need to rectify it.

Her lower lip quivered a bit and she stuttered, "H-hi."

He waited for her to invite him in and when she didn't he merely raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to ask me to come in or are we supposed to talk out here, in the hallway?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped away from the door. "Come in."

Once inside, he turned to her and smiled, as if they were close friends. "How have you been?"

She looked taken aback but nodded slowly. "Good. You?"

"Been better. I mean, it's not everyday I have to seek out a lover," - Rory visibly flinched when he called her that -" who has been avoiding me for the last three days, and have awkward conversations with her. But there's a first time for everything, right?"

"Tristan, why are you here?"

He sat down on her bed and picked up Colonel Clucker. "I thought it was obvious."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Obviously not."

He tossed the stuffed animal aside and stood up, ready to drop the cool façade. "Okay then, I'll spell it out for you. Are you just going to pretend that we never had sex?" Her arms feel limply to her side and she looked away, uncomfortable. If he hadn't been so angry or hurt he would have laughed at how absurd it was that she was so obviously trying to forget about it. "God, Rory, you have got to be kidding me."

"I am very well aware of what happened."

His arms swept around the room in a dramatic gesture. "So that's it? You're going to leave it at that?"

"I have to leave it at that, Tristan,"

"And why is that?"

She lifted her arms in the air in a hopeless gesture and opened her mouth to say something but after a beat, her hands dropped and her mouth closed. He wanted to say something but didn't know what and so they stood in silence. Then, she opened her mouth again and said, "I made a list."

He expelled a frustrated breath. "What?"

Color rose to her cheeks and she turned around, picked up a piece of paper from her desk and handed it to him, looking sheepish. "It's a compulsion."

He looked at her disbelievingly and then read the heading. 'Tristan: the pros and cons'. There was a line dividing the two columns and in her neat handwriting, she had scribbled a few reasons under the column that said 'cons'. The 'pros' were left blank. "You made a list." The words came out slow and deliberate.

"Yes."

He cleared his throat and read, "Cons. Number 1, I just broke up with Jess." He looked up at her; started to grin. "If anything, that only strengths my argument. You're single."

She wrung her hands. "Read the rest."

"Number 2, he goes to school in New Haven." He raised an eyebrow. "That is about to change. Number 3, we really don't like each other." This made him chuckle and then smirk at her. "We seemed to like each other just fine in bed."

"Tristan…"

He folded the list and took a step forward, cutting off whatever she was going to say. "Rory, this is stupid." He grabbed her gently by her upper arms and pulled her closer, easily sliding his arms around her waist when she didn't object. "We had a great time. You can't deny it."

Unwillingly, her lips curved. "We had fun."

"In and out of bed."

Her cheeks reddened and she brought her hands to his chest and pushed away. "I won't argue with you, Tristan. I had a lot of fun. More fun than I expected to have."

She baffled him. "Then what's the problem?"

"I just have too much on my plate." She pulled away from him completely and then lifted her shoulder in a shrug. He saw the determined set of her jaw and when he met her eyes, he could see that her mind was made up. "All I can offer is friendship."

There was that ugly word again. Friendship. He had tried to be her friend when he was sixteen. Three years later, he wasn't that deluded to believe that he could accept that now. They weren't cut out to be friends without being lovers. But he was going to have to make her see that. "Fine."

She looked a little taken aback and it pleased him. "Fine?"

"Yeah," he replied and tugged at her hair playfully to show her he was just fine with the arrangement. "We'll be friends."

Now, all these years later, the amusement came back. Rory had been so determined to keep him at arms length; she had believed whole-heartedly that nothing would happen between them if they both kept up 'friendly' appearances.

A week later, when they were at his apartment unpacking his belongings, things shifted back to the way he wanted. She had turned to put something away in his closet at the exact time he was exiting and they bumped into each other. He grabbed her hips to keep her from toppling back and she clutched his shirt to hold on.

A beat.

Awkward silence.

She glanced at his lips, wetted hers.

And then, unexpectedly, she closed the distance between their mouths and kissed him senseless.

A smile touched his lips as he leaned back on the plush couch of the DuGrey jet on its way to Hartford.  She had caved, in only a week. He had tried not to be smug about it, tried not to rub it in but he failed.

"I can't believe you seduced me," she said as they lay in bed together, hours later. Her head rested on his chest, her hair splayed out, tickling his skin.

"Excuse me, you're the one that started kissing me," he reminded her, his hands stroking her bare back softly.

She lifted her head off his chest and opened her mouth to say something but then closed it again when she realized he was right. Her eyes narrowed and her lips turned into an enticing pout. "I hate you."

Before she knew what happened, Tristan flipped them over so that he was on top and her arms were twined around his neck. Her eyes widened in surprise and a soft gasp escaped her lips as he slipped into her. She arched into him; let out a reluctant moan. He leaned down to touch his mouth to hers and murmur, "No, you don't."