“Yeah, well, Princess, it’s all about balance.” He holds up his hand to stop my accusing finger, moving so that our hands are suddenly intertwined. If anyone came now, they would think we were sharing some sort of intimate moment in the stacks. “Besides, I have a wife to support.”
I yank my hand away as if he’s burned me. “I am not your wife.”
“Yet.” He snatches the book back off me and grabs my bag from the floor before claiming my hand again. “Don’t fight me, either I carry you to the nurse's office or you take a break with me. You have a study period next, right?”
He tries to pull me towards the exit, but my feet remain planted on the ground. “Are you stalking me now?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he teases as he starts to pull me again. This time I go, I’m too tired to fight with him right now, and I feel nauseous.
“For Christ’s sake, what is wrong with you?” Why was he torturing me like this? I still had a few months until graduation. I still had time. What was he up to?
“Lighten up, Lena,” he laughs, his dimple easy to see this close.
“Stop calling me that,” I groan.
He winks. “Fine, the wifey will get what the wifey wants.”
Chapter Four
Tristan
I drag her out of the school, plop a helmet on her head, and lift her onto the back on my bike. How do I know something is wrong? Because the woman hasn’t protested once since we left the library. No smart-aleck comments, no pushing, and no resistance.
“Where are we going?” she asks with a tired voice as I grab her hands and pull them around my waist. Again, she doesn’t protest, but her stomach does grumble loudly.
“To fix that,” I say, with a chuckle, trying to ignore the way her body curves around mine.
I bring her to my family house, not the apartment overlooking the dance studio but the Radcliffe mansion. I never really liked this big, old house, with its million windows and empty-echoing corridors. When my mom died, it was like all the warmth was just sucked out, and now it was just bricks and paint. The only good thing was the painting studio in the attic.
Lena doesn’t say anything as I lead her into the kitchen and make her sit at the breakfast bar. I grab a box from the cupboard and a pan before I hand her a can of soda.
“I’m on a diet,” she mumbles, looking at the can wearily as I begin making mac and cheese.
Of course she is, elections are coming up, and she was about to be paraded around like a show pony. I bet her father wanted her to look perfect, like a little doll, but it did also explain why she was taking that damn book out of the library earlier. Elena Montgomery, skilled violinist, ballet dancer, class president, captain of the cheerleading squad, and on the debate team. She was the ultimate poster girl, and Randolph loved making her a part of his campaign. He loved being seen as a nice family man with a high-achieving child and a pretty little wife, his whole image was built upon it. Such a shame the people of Silvercrest didn’t know what he was really like.
“You’re no good to anyone if you don’t eat,” I chastise as I stir in some extra cheese to the dish. “What time did you go to bed last night?”
She pauses for a moment to think about it, the dark circles under her eyes telling me all I need to know. “I had cheer practice, and then I had to prepare a speech for tomorrow about graduation.”
The hiss of the can as she opens the soda fills the kitchen.
“And what did you have for dinner?” I press as I grab two bowls out of the cupboard.
Tilting her head, her answer is almost like a whisper. “I don’t...remember.”
“Nothing then,” I scoff. “Here, eat.”
I shove a bowl at her and pass a fork from the drawer. For someone so smart, she could be so stupid. How was she supposed to be the perfect daughter if she fainted? Or if she became ill?
“I’m on a diet, Tristan,” she says, her voice firm as she pushes the bowl away, but I see the way her throat moves as she swallows.
I lean back against the counter and dig into my food as I stand, watching her. Blowing on a spoonful of hot cheesy goodness, I pause briefly. “I will force feed you, Princess, if I have to.”
My threat seems to work as she gently picks up the fork and begins to stir the food to cool it down. She sighs softly. “Why did I even let you drag me here?”
“Because you have no strength to fight me today, and that’s the problem. I like my women feisty.” I laugh, because it’s the truth. I wanted Lena to fight me. To get angry. I wanted to burst her open and unleash every repressed feeling, and then I could put her back together again. She wasn’t meant to be an ember, stomped out by her father. She was a blaze, and she just needed someone to fan it.
She mumbles, “Yeah, because Blip looks like she’s the feisty sort.”
“Blip?” I frown. “Do you mean Blythe?”
She ignores my question, instead rolling her eyes at me. “Just let me eat in peace. And then I’m leaving.”
“Are you...are you jealous, Princess?” I can’t stop the grin that pulls the corners of my mouth upwards. I chuckle as she flips me the bird, I guess the princess isn’t as adverse as she likes to pretend.
We eat in silence, and it isn’t until I’m washing up the dishes that I hear the front door open. Moments later, my
