Much to Tristan’s relief, his mother dropped him and left, not bothering to come into the house and start a fight like the last couple of times. Tristan raised his hand and waved her off, waiting until she was down the road before bolting inside.

His father was on the couch in his usual spot, feet on the coffee table, beer in hand.

“Hey, Dad.” He brushed past him, taking a cursory glance at the screen and noting the Yankees were set to win the game. Tristan rushed up the stairs to dump his stuff and get over to Helena’s place. Skipping back down, he smiled at his father when he glanced over his shoulder.

“How was it?” His dad turned away from the game, his smile slightly bemused. “You catch up with some of your old friends or something? There was that girl, wasn’t there? What was her name again?”

“No, Dad. I didn’t see my old friends.” Tristan chuckled, clearing his throat and forcing his lips to behave.

“What’s up with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” He checked his expression, hoping it was sitting bland and even.

His dad shrugged, swiveling back to the TV and taking another swig from his bottle.

“So, I’m just gonna go for a walk.” Tristan pointed over his shoulder as he walked backwards into the kitchen.

His dad paused, the beer halfway to his lips. “O-kay.”

“To get dinner stuff.” Tristan pushed up his sleeves.

“Cool.” He couldn’t see his father’s face but took his head nodding as a license to skip out. His dad never usually asked where he was going or what he was up to. He could probably tell him the truth and he still wouldn’t mind, but Helena was Tristan’s secret and he wasn’t about to change that. He just had to remember to run to the store before coming home. A can of soup and a loaf of fresh bread would have to do for dinner.

“I’ll see you soon,” he called, racing out the back door.

He was tapping on Helena’s window within ten minutes. Her long braid flicked down her back as she jumped up and ran across the room. She lifted the window quickly, helping him in and wrapping her arms around him before he’d even had a chance to stand straight.

“I know it was only two days, but I missed you,” she whispered against his shoulder.

Tristan closed his eyes with a relieved sigh, gliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She giggled when he lifted her off the ground, the sweet sound kissing the side of his neck. Placing her back down, he let her go and lightly held her face, his thumbs brushing the edge of her jaw. He could drown in the turquoise oasis of her gaze. Her eyes were a deep spring, reflecting the stars of a brilliant night sky.

She smiled, her white teeth straight and perfect, her sweet pointy nose wrinkling between her eyes.

Words were lost to him. He was sucked in by her beauty—the glossy sparkle on her lips, the tender way she drank him in. He leaned toward her, stopping a quarter inch from her lips and breathing in the jasmine swirling around him. She always did this to him, put his senses into overdrive, intoxicating him and turning his mind to putty.

His eyelids fluttered closed, her warm, tickling breath wrenching him in and closing the space between them. Her summer-berry lips consumed him. He lightly gripped the back of her neck, increasing the pressure. Before he could stop it, the tip of his tongue snuck out for a proper taste. Her fingers curled into his shirt as he brushed his tongue along her lower lip. She let out a sweet gasp, her breath a warm sigh against his lips. And then she opened her mouth, her tongue peeking out to say hello.

Tristan tipped his head, deepening the kiss, lightly thrusting his tongue into her mouth to see what she would do. The tip of her tongue swirled around his, a heady dance that turned his stomach into a rollercoaster ride. It dipped and spun as he sucked in a breath, opening his mouth fully and drawing her in.

Her tentative tongue darted out to explore, meeting him halfway before skipping out again. He lightly sucked her bottom lip before she pulled away from him, that sweet sigh tickling the air once more.

Her eyes were wide, her breathing a rapid caper. Tristan lightly squeezed the side of her neck, his thumb resting on the tip of her chin. She was still clutching his shirt, and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she finally smiled.

“That was…” She blinked, then swallowed. “That was…”

Tristan grinned. Since when was Helena Thompson ever lost for words?

“Do you want to do it again?”

She bobbed her head and lurched back into his arms, her mouth hitting his with energetic confidence. He held her close, sliding his arms down her back so he could pull her against him. Her slender body fit perfectly within his arms, her inquisitive tongue dancing with his in an all-consuming moment that blocked out the entire world.

Even the creak on the stairs.