Tristan Davis finally seemed satisfied. He took the coffee cup with a slow, deliberate grace and thanked her, then turned his sharp gaze on Emily Blair. “Your friend’s not half bad,” he remarked.
Emily shot a glare at Elizabeth Wilson, her voice barely more than a growl. “Whose side are you even on?”
Elizabeth just winked with a mischievous smile. “I’m on the side of juicy gossip, obviously.”
She shot Emily a mock-reproachful look. “You still haven’t told me—when did you meet this absolute heartthrob? Why am I always the last to know? Some friend you are!”
Emily opened her mouth, searching for a defense, but Tristan beat her to it.
“I live across the hall from her,” he announced.
Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “No way! That makes you my neighbor, too.”
Tristan looked puzzled. “How’s that?”
Elizabeth explained, “I live over there as well, but I’ve been away for a while. If I’d known someone like you was my neighbor, I’d have come home every day.”
She finished with a flourish, extending her hand to Tristan. “Hi, I’m Elizabeth Wilson, Emily’s friend. Pleasure to meet you, handsome.”
Tristan’s gaze flickered to Emily with a look that practically said, See? Your friend’s way friendlier than you. He lifted his chin and shook Elizabeth’s hand, but let go almost immediately, his manner cool and reserved. “Tristan Davis. But there’s no need for introductions—I’m hardly ever home anyway.”
Elizabeth glanced at Emily, her eyes sparkling with excitement. When it came to a good rumor, especially if Emily and a gorgeous guy were involved, her curiosity was insatiable.
“So what’s this about a love confession? Can I get the details?”
Tristan sipped his coffee, his posture perfect, and replied at an unhurried pace, “You’ll have to ask Emily. It was all her doing.”
Emily shot him a warning smile. “Excuse me? How exactly was it my doing?”


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