The Broken Sister by Leanne Davis

Author:Leanne Davis
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Leanne Davis
Published: 2016-06-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

FOR THE NEXT FEW weeks it became a strange routine for Kylie. She was with Tristan constantly. He came over every day after work now. She got used to getting her homework, studying, and even drawing done while he was around. It was easy to put off at first, but he always had extra work to do, so she started working on hers while he did his. Her grades went up simply because she was consistently working now. They were most often at her place, rarely at his. Mostly because he had the car and took the initiative to come her way. She hadn’t been to a party in weeks and hadn’t slept with anyone but Tristan in as long. It was unheard of for her. And surprisingly, extremely easy.

“Hey, I have to work late tonight.”

Her heart dipped. So stupid to get so reliant on him being around every single day. It was getting out of hand, how much she actually liked his company and looked forward to it. It had become habit. Easy. Expected.

But real life called sometimes. “Okay.”

He sighed into her ear over the phone. “Not okay. It’s depressing me.”

“Oh thank God. Me too.”

“Go to my place. I’ll be back late. I’ll call the manager and tell him to let you in when you get there. But at least…”

“We’ll still each other. Okay. See you later, then.”

Let in by the building manager, she dropped her stuff beside his bed and scrounged for something to drink and nibble on. Surprisingly with Tristan, who rarely said anything in judgement either way about what she ate or didn’t, she found her body-issues were easier to handle with him. He was oddly accepting of her, which went a long way towards building her confidence in him. With Tristan she wasn’t hiding her body, denying it, justifying it or trying to fix it. Tonight she was relaxed and hunger gnawed at her, so she ate some of the crackers and apple slices he had there. The relief was Tristan didn’t hover over her, checking to see if she had eaten or not. He didn’t get offended if he fixed a meal, whether it be Sunday breakfast or Tuesday dinner, and she declined eating it, or only nibbled off it. He just… let her. Not being an issue to him made it a little easier to not make it an issue with her.

Later, she stretched out on his decadent bed and sheets. She could care less for his expensive tastes in stuff. It was all wasted on her, except this bed. She really liked the feel of it. She often indulged in it on Sundays. He was always off working anyway, rarely staying in bed past six or seven. It was more like ten or eleven before she came stumbling out of bed to face the day.

The door slammed shut about eleven. She sat up, groggy, pushing her hair off her face. She was naked and not shy about it, sitting up when the noises finally reached the bedroom, where he clicked the light on as he entered.

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