Chapter 25
Sophia’s playful, mischievous grin was pure trouble–like a little cat about to knock something off a shelf just for fun.
Tristan felt a strange little prick on his heart, the kind that only a cat’s paw could leave. His dark eyes softened, and there was a flicker of something close to indulgence in them, like he was allowing himself a rare moment of weakness.
A faint smile rugged at the corners of his lips, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. With his usual unhurried, effortless grace, he pushed open the door to the private room–just the way Sophia had hoped.
“Woo-hoo!”
The deafening roar of cheers was like a bomb going off, the kind that could rattle the foundations of the entire hotel
The second Tristan stepped inside, a tidal wave of champagne spray hit him square on. The sharp smell of booze filled the air, and icy liquid soaked him head to toe in seconds.
Zach and his crew were bouncing off the walls, bottles in hand, shaking them like their lives depended on it. They howled and hollered, and were so caught up in their party frenzy that they didn’t even clock that they’d hit the wrong target.
Meanwhile, Sophia, who’d been smart enough to duck out of the splash zone, peeked out from her down. She cautiously stuck her head through the doorframe, and what she saw froze her in place.
e line corner as the chaos started to die.
There he was, standing at the entrance like some champagne–drenched god of destruction. Tristan’s perfectly styled hair was now a dripping mess. plastered against the nape of his neck.
Champagne trailed along the sharp, almost cruelly handsome lines of his face, pooling at his jawline before hanging there in one tantalizingly perfect drop. It was a lot. Too much, really. The kind of sight that made one wants to lean in and–kiss away the drop.
Sophia couldn’t help but chuckled. The sound of her sufled laugh made Tristan turn his head, his sharp gaze landing squarely on her.
Even dripping wet, stripped of his usual icy perfection, the man looked unfairly good. The mess only added a rugged, almost dangerous edge to his otherwise untouchable demeanor. He didn’t look so much like a nained CEO as he did a devil–may–care bad boy one couldn’t help but stare at
Sophia’s lips curved into a wicked little smile. Her lashes, long and feathered, lifted as her bright eyes sparkled with amusement
That grin, that sparkle–it lit up her whole face, turning her from merely beautiful to outright spellbinding.
And for just a moment, Tristan’s carefully guarded composure cracked Something tugged at his heart again, a quiet but undeniable pull. The indulgence in his gaze deepened, spilling over into something that looked suspiciously like pure affection.
Inside the room, reality was finally starting to catch up to Zach and his gang “Wait.. hold on..” Zach murmured in fear.
They’d champagne–blasted the wrong person. The man standing there, drenched from head to toe, wasn’t their beloved party queen. “Miss 5 It was
“Oh crap
I’m so sorry, Mr. Years!
Zach practically jumped our of his skin, clutching his now–empty champagne bottle like it might save him.
His brain short–circuited, and before he could think better of it, he shoved the bottle into the hands of the poor sap next to him
The poor sap blinked. “Huh? Seriously?”
But survival instincts kicked in fast, and he passed the boitle off to the next guy, who passed it to the next, like a game of hot potato where no one wanted to lose
The chain finally ended with Sherry, who found herself holding a precarious tower of empty bottles.
She pressed her tongue against her back teeth, fixing Zach with a smile so sharp in could cut glass
“Oh, you’re so dead” she drawled, her tone all sugar and venom..
Zach shrank into himself, swallowing hard. He looked like a man marching to his doom as he shaklly reached out to take the empty bottles. But before he could, there was a sharp clatter.
Everyone turned just in time to see Sherry casually toss the bottles into the recycling bin. She grabbed a fresh one, and–without so much as a blank -started walking toward Tristan, bottle in hand, looking like she was about to smash it over his head.
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Chapter 25
The room collectively froze. Zach and his crew gawked, their hearts lodged firmly in their throats. Oh my god. They both thought about the same thing. Miss Hayes is losing it. She’s actually going knock him out cold!
But instead, Sherry sidestepped Tristan, sauntered right up to Sophia, and shoved both the unopened bottle and a box of tissues into her hands.
“Hey sweetie.” With a sly wink, she said, “Mr. Yeats just braved a champagne storm for you. You owe him.”
Sophia didn’t have a reply to this. So now she’s the bad guy? She thought
Sure, maybe she had pushed Tristan into the line of fire on purpose. But come on, he handled it like a champ
Meanwhile, all eyes were on her now, Zach and the others even clasped their hands together in a dramatic “please save us” gesture, their faces as pitiful as stray puppies.
Sophia almost sighed. They surely deserved this.
She glanced at Tristan, only to find him leaning into the drama, his head tilted slightly and his hazel, champagne–soaked eyes glinting with amusement. He didn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.
“Miss Roscente,” he said smoothly, spreading his arms wide to show off his soaked, disheveled state. “It’s only fair you take responsibility”
“Pardon me?” Sophia’s eyes twitched. Her gaze sharpened as she glared at him.
But she didn’t expect this. His soaking wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of champagne gliding down his sharp jawline. Even in this mess, he looked maddeningly perfect. And that hint of mischief in his gaze? It only added fuel to her frustration.
Fine. Thought Sophia. If he wanted to play, she’d play
With a sigh that was part resignation and part annoyance, she tossed the empty bottle back at Sherry and pulled a tissue from the box. She stepped closer and, without a word, pressed it firmly against Tristan’s face.
Tristan barely flinched. But as the tissue quickly soaked through, her hand brushed against his cheek, soft and warm
The instant her fingers brushed against his skin, his body went rigid, a subtle tension rippling through him. His breath caught, heart shading faster as if thrown off rhythm.
Her touch was something else–soft, fleeting, and yet oddly electric. It clung to him, sweet and irresistible, like cotton candy dissolving on his tongue, leaving a trace he couldn’t shake.
He kept his gaze fixed on her, his eyes tracing every detail. The subtle quiver of her long lashes, the soft porcelain glow of her skin, and the faint blush dusting ber cheeks–all of it seemed to pull him in, like a masterpiece painted just for him.
Sophia froze for a split second, but she quickly masked it, pulling her hand back as if nothing happened. Grabbing another wad of tissues, she folded them into a thicker stack and began wiping the mess off his face again.
Her fingers swept over the sharp cut of his jawline, glided along the elegant slope of his nose, and drified down to the taut curve of his neck.
The instant the tissue brushed against his neck, a wave of heal radiated from his skin, searing her fingertips as if she’d touched a live wire
Her hand wavered, a tiny tremor she couldn’t control. The tissue slipped. And her bare fingers brushed against his throat, lingering just lon
long enough to feel the subtle, irresistible movement as he swallowed.
Sophia’s heart jolted, hammering so loud she was sure he could hear it. She tried to pull her hand back. But Tristan’s hand shot out, warm and firm, gripping her wrist in place.
“That’s enough,” Tristan said, his voice a low, gravelly drawl, thick with a tension that seemed to charge the very air between them. His jaw clenched, and his dark eyes burned with something raw–something untamed and impossible to ignore.
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