Chapter 32: 21| Mistake

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Mistake ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ Chapter 21: Mistake (Tristan's POV) I couldn't help the shaky breath that escaped me as I walked back out into the parking lot of her building and made my way to my car. Slipping into the driver's seat, I pulled the door shut and threw my head back against the headrest, sighing softly. God, she drives me fucking crazy. I couldn't decipher if it was the alcohol in my system or hers or if it was something else entirely that led me to grow so oblivious and unaware of my own actions around her. Before I knew it, driving her home turned into helping her and before I could fathom, I was on my knees in front of her. I wasn't sure I would ever understand what it was that she really did to me. If it was anything at all or if it was all in my head. It couldn't all just be in my head though. There were other things that took place between us in the past and those were all… very real. Letting such things happen again wasn't an option. It couldn't be, never. And yet I couldn't deny that no matter how impossible it seemed now, it was all I craved once. "Would it kill you to come to my office for these meetings?" Amara asked flatly as soon as I opened the front door to my apartment. If it were up to me, I never would have opened the door in the first place but she had been incessantly going at the doorbell for the past fifteen minutes. Brushing past me silently, she shoved the files at my chest and strolled in, welcoming herself into the kitchen. I resisted the urge to sigh and lifted the toast to my mouth, biting down on it as I shut the door and spun back around, entering the kitchen. "You've made it a habit. Barging into my apartment like this," I told her, tossing the file on the counter. She glanced at me. "That's because you refuse to drive down to my office. Since the short drive is so tedious for you, I thought I'd make it easier and bring myself here." Her eyes followed me as I walked around the counter and stood across from her. "You want to stay out of jail, don't you?" I set my toast down on a plate and dusted my hands clean. "As far as I'm concerned, Ms. Milano, you're doing a fine job on your own." Tilting her head to one side, she sighed softly. "Work with me, come on. I can't do this on my own. I'm not doing it for myself, am I?" Pausing, she cleared her throat and grabbed the file, flipping it open and keeping her gaze focused on the pages. "I'm doing it for you," she mumbled faintly. Bracing my palms on the counter, I leaned forward as she lifted her gaze to mine. "Did you clear your appointments to spend the day here and torture me?" She mirrored my position and pulled on a cheeky grin. "Of course I did, Mr. Harper." A small chuckle left me. "Did you have breakfast? You're earlier than usual." Her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek. "I had tea. Does that count?" "No," I answered, shaking my head. Grabbing the second plate I kept prepared, anticipating her arrival, I slid it over to her. Her brows twitched up as she stared at the plate. "Banana toast?" I nodded toward it and shrugged lightly. "I always see you eating it whenever we have meetings at your apartment." "Observant, are we?" she teased, taking a bite out of it. Her eyes drifted back to mine before traveling down my shoulders, chest, and along my torso. She hummed lightly as she took a seat. "Sweatpants, t-shirt, glasses on," she commented, pushing her own glasses up her nose using her middle finger, giving me the finger shamelessly. "Were you always planning on staying home today?" I couldn't bite down the small laugh that escaped me as I took a seat and rested my elbow on the counter. The black-rimmed square glasses that sat on my face matched the brown turtle ones she wore. Mocking her gesture, I repeated it and pushed my glasses up. "Perhaps," I responded. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she focused on the papers in front of her. "Let's get to work, shall we? We have the whole day ahead of us." Minutes bled into hours and before either one of us knew it, dawn had bled into dusk. The entire day had passed and as we worked mercilessly on the case together, it stopped feeling so much like a burden. The longer Amara and I spent working on this case, the less time I spent stressing over it and the more I grew to trust Amara with my fate and… not just with this case. "He…" She exhaled roughly and jabbed her pen at the page in front of her that held all the information about the attorney we were up against. "He drives me crazy in the courtroom," she groaned loudly. I watched her as we stood side by side, shuffling through all the papers together. "You can take it," I told her, my gaze traveling across her profile, taking in every little feature. "You can handle it, you've been doing great so far." Amara slowly turned to look at me. "Are you praising me, Mr. Harper? What a surprise." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and turned to face her. "Only because you deserve to hear it, Ms. Milano." I took a step closer, erasing the distance between us as our bodies brushed against each other. "Do you truly believe that?" she questioned, staring up at me, holding my gaze. "Do you think I would lie to you?" I lifted a brow at her. Humming, she slid her glasses up to her head and glanced around at all the papers. "Maybe," she answered, "my ego appreciates it. Lie or not." Amusement coursed through me and a small smile tugged at my lips as I watched her. "Be very careful Tristan," she warned, staring back at me, "I hold your fate in my hands now. What should I do with it?" Lifting a brow at me, she stepped a little closer. "I'm very tempted to make you lose. Since you're the bane of all my problems." "Would you like it if you got rid of me?" I asked, tilting her chin up with a light touch. "That seems to be the problem," she said softly, "I don't think I would." Taking hold of my hand as it remained beneath her chin, she pulled it down and took a small step back. "I should go. It's getting late and I-" "Don't," I cut her off, moving forward again. A defeated breath escaped her as she closed her eyes for a moment. "Tristan." "Don't," I repeated, pulling her in as I cornered her between myself and the counter behind her. Bracing my hands along the edge, I leaned in. "We're not done yet," I whispered softly. She held my gaze and that moment of silence was enough to confirm what we both knew but were too afraid to admit out loud, too afraid to admit to one another. I dropped one hand to her hip and my thumb slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, tracing her hipbone with a delicate touch. She inhaled shakily and braced a hand on my chest. "We're making a mistake," she whispered almost breathlessly. "I don't care," I shook my head, inching closer. "It's a mistake worth making." Her fist tightened around my shirt. "Tristan-" "If you want me to stop, I will. Tell me to stop, Amara." I needed her to tell me to stop because God knew how quickly I'd unravel if we didn't stop. The power Amara had on me was like no other. An almost pained sigh escaped her as she met my gaze. "I hate you," she exhaled. "God, Amara," I groaned softly, leaning forward, my lips brushing against her jaw, trailing up to her ear as my lips brushed against it when I whispered, "I hate that I want you." Drawing back, I met her gaze. Raising my hand, I slightly tilted her chin up, trailing my fingers up her jaw until I gently grabbed her by the throat. "But I want you far more than I hate you. It drives me crazy and I can't stop." A sharp gasp escaped her as I tugged her forward and smashed my lips against her, swallowing whatever was left of her gasp, and silencing her with a kiss. If it wasn't for the way her body so perfectly arched into mine or the way her lips desperately and greedily moved against mine, demanding more, then perhaps I would have believed her little lie. But the way she kissed me, the way she felt against me, and the way we fit together perfectly felt so right. I simply couldn't believe that she hated me and I couldn't hate her any longer either. As I broke the kiss, a small plea escaped her, a small sigh of dissatisfaction. But it ceased as I took my glasses off with a hand and tossed them on the table behind her before kissing her again. Kissing her felt like that first gasp of air after drowning underwater. It felt like succumbing to everything that owned me. It felt like I found everything I'd ever been searching for. It felt like dying a thousand deaths and yet somehow it felt like my salvation. She felt like my salvation. Amara proved me wrong once. Craving her only led me to feel disappointed, it led me to nothing. No matter what I once thought, Amara was not my salvation; she was my damnation, my downfall. Amara Milano was my destruction. I couldn't afford to let her wreak such chaos on me once again. I had been far too kind and far too soft for her thus far. It was time I reminded her what I was capable of, reminded her that I wasn't her friend or her savior or her confidante. The most crucial thing for Amara at that point was the Ambrose case and her failures in it so far. It was the least I could do to damage her so I had no choice but to settle for it. The one thing she wanted at that moment was to win that case. So I would make sure she never did. Amara was right and I should have known it the moment I kissed her. We were making a mistake. I made a mistake. . . . . . Chapter 21