restored love

46

OLIVIA

"Is this too revealing to wear to meet your parents?"

Tristan glances up to look at me. "No you look fine." he says, shrugging.

Fine? I huff, storming off to our bedroom. I needed to wear something more appropriate. "You are so unhelpful," I mumble once I realised that Tristan followed me to the bedroom. I pull another dress off its hanger.

It was a long knitted brown dress. This seemed more appropriate. I throw it on. It hugged my body perfectly. I turn around to Tristan and he smiles. "You look beautiful as always."

I grin. "I think this is more appropriate."

"Olivia you shouldn't worry about what my parents think of you. Wear whatever the fuck you want. If they want to say something about it, i'll deal with them."

I walk towards Tristan, wrapping my arms around my neck. "What would I do without you?" I ask, sighing dramatically. "My possessive, overprotective boyfriend."

"And what would I do without you?" he retorts. "My beautiful, jealous girlfriend."

"Jealous?" I ask, raising a brow.

"You practically glared the shit out of that woman who gave me my lunch today."

Oh fuck. Not this again.

"She was touching you." I accuse.

"Her hand brushed my arm Olivia," he says, chuckling.

I glare at him. "She asked for your number. Stop mocking me."

"I wouldn't call it mocking plus I wouldn't have ever given her my number," he says with a grin.

"Remember when you booked Daisy's appointment at the exact same time as my date with Sebastian?" I question. "That seems like jealousy to me."

His eyes fill with dark amusement. "That wasn't jealousy. That was me being such a good friend and booking you an emergency doctor's appointment."

"Oh shut up." I mumble. "Good friend my ass."

"Speaking of ass." he mutters, his hands gripping my ass tightly. "Your ass looks incredible in this dress."

I couldn't hold back my laugh. "Stop distracting me. I need to curl my hair." I say, pulling away from him walking to the bathroom.

"Leave it straight." he declares, following after me. He leans against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest.

"It's still wet." I murmur, twirling a piece of wet hair around my finger. I shouldn't have washed it before I got ready but I was sweaty from the gym.

My eyes dart over to Tristan through the mirror as he smirks devilishly. Oh fuck. He opens his mouth to speak.

"Don't you dare say what you are thinking." I say, pointing a finger at him through the mirror.

"And what was I going to say?" he amuses.

"Something very inappropriate," I reply. "I'm curling my hair now. Unless you want to watch, leave."

He doesn't move. I roll my eyes playfully as I plug in the curler. Is he seriously going to watch me curl my hair?

•••

Tristan didn't move a muscle. He watched me curl my hair for however long it took me to and he looked intrigued while I did it.

"Now that I'm finished curling my hair you can stop staring at me."

"And why would I do that?"