My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 748

Andrew Lane let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes cool and unreadable as he turned to Tristan Davis. “Are you her boyfriend?” he asked.

In that moment, Tristan didn’t look like a confident twenty-five-year-old man. Instead, he seemed more like a teenager, eager to flaunt his connection with the woman he liked, hoping to scare off a rival.

“How many times do you want to ask that?” Tristan shot back, a smile playing on his lips. “Haven’t I made it obvious enough?”

Andrew’s tone was flat. “Not obvious at all.”

Andrew made no effort to hide his feelings for Emily Blair. Everything he said was a challenge, and Tristan could see it clearly—and it was infuriating.

But there was no way Tristan would let Andrew see how much he was getting under his skin.

He simply laughed. “Maybe that’s because you’re getting up there in years, Mr. Lane. Your eyes and ears aren’t what they used to be. Not like us younger guys—we’re in our prime.”

Andrew was only five years older than Emily—twenty-nine, not yet thirty—hardly old, but definitely a few years senior to Tristan and Emily.

He’d never cared much about his age before. Still, looking at Tristan’s youthful face, Andrew felt a pang of jealousy.

But he wasn’t someone who could be pushed around easily. With a faint smirk, he shot back, “Or maybe you’re just too caught up in your act?”

Tristan frowned, but before he could say anything, Andrew continued, “From what I know, you and Emily aren’t actually a couple. You’re just pretending, aren’t you?”

Tristan’s expression darkened.

Andrew pressed on. “Maybe you’re taking the role a little too seriously. So much so that you’re starting to believe it—and now you can’t stand the thought of me talking to Emily?”

Tristan’s face was tense, but he managed to keep his composure. His eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”

Andrew gave a careless shrug. “Does it really matter? What matters is what’s happening now.”

Tristan clenched his jaw.

Very few people knew about their fake relationship. As far as he was aware, only he and Emily knew for certain—not even Elizabeth Wilson or Emma George had a clue.

Andrew’s dark eyes betrayed nothing.

No, it hadn’t been Emily. She’d never discuss something like that with him. He’d overheard it in the hospital room—Emily had told the nurse herself that Tristan wasn’t her boyfriend, just a friend.

But Andrew had no intention of sharing that.

Instead, he simply replied, “What do you think?”

Calm, composed—completely in control.

Tristan let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

He drew a slow breath, then said, “If you don’t want to answer, Mr. Lane, I won’t press you.”

Suddenly, he smiled. “Since you’ve come all this way so many times, let me return the favor on Emily’s behalf. Why don’t you come with me to her hospital room? I’ll give you a little thank-you gift.”