"Crap, your mom wants to talk to me?" I quickly push my dress down and comb my hair with my fingers. "What about?"

Tristan runs his fingers through his hair, his breathing ragged. "I think I have an idea, but I told her I would ask you myself."

He's totally lost me. "What were you going to ask me?"

Tristan adjusts his jeans and looks at me. "Are you good?"

What does he want to ask me? Taking a quick breath, I straighten my knees, which are still shaking ...