Chapter 11: Candied Rose
Mina woke with a start. She sat up in the bed she was in, lightly panting, and frantically looked around at her surroundings. Where the hell was she? Mina clutched at her head that was throbbing due to her earlier crying. The last thing she remembered was…careening down that hill towards her death and then - Michael. Michael had shown up and he’d looked like an angel. His eyes had been glowing with a golden light and enormous, white, feathery wings had been outstretched behind him.
Michael…had saved her. And Michael was…an angel? Mina mused but then shook her head. No way, but…if she could so easily accept that her brother was an incubus why couldn’t she accept that Michael was an angel?
Mina looked around the room she was in with renewed curiosity. At first she thought she was in a hotel room, but upon closer inspection she realized this was probably Michael’s bedroom in a secret apartment somewhere. It was a very clean, orderly and masculine bedroom with a four-poster bed with dark blue sheets, two night tables on either side of the bed, an oak dresser, a closet, and a bookshelf filled with books about a variety of subjects: philosophy, astrology, science and also modern subjects like ‘relationships’. Mina raised an eyebrow at this observation when she read the title of one of Michael’s books: ‘How To: Get a girl to notice you’.
Mina realized in that moment that she heard the sound of the shower running. This meant that Michael was taking a shower. Yummy images popped into Mina’s head at the thought and she shook her head to clear it. What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t like Michael like that.
The sound of the shower being turned off was heard, and a few minutes later the bathroom door was opening releasing a cloud of steam into the bedroom. Michael emerged from out of a cloud of steam in such a delicious manner that Mina thought it had to have been choreographed.
Michael was wearing nothing but a small white towel around his waist. “Whoa.” Mina squeaked as she looked at Michael’s towering body that was suddenly on display before her. Michael was tall at six-five with broad shoulders and a tanned, muscular torso. His bronze skin was stretched taught over rippling muscles. He had kissable biceps and powerful thighs.
Beneath the chocolatier jacket Michael had just appeared ‘beefy’ - maybe even overweight. But now Mina knew that this was not the case. He was one hundred percent pure muscle. There was not an ounce of fat on his bones. Her hungry gaze seared over his exposed skin, following the water droplets as they rolled down his chest to his six-pack abs. She couldn’t help but follow the happy trail of golden hair that tantalizingly ended at the edge of his low-slung towel.
Michael was casually drying his hair with another towel and causing his arm muscles to flex and strain deliciously. Oh yeah. She moaned in her head.
Michael seemed to feel Mina’s eyes upon him and turned to look at her. He grinned boyishly and dimples appeared on his cheeks making him appear younger. “Oh, hey, you’re awake.”
Mina blushed and looked down at herself. Someone had changed her out of her clothes last night! And now she was dressed in only her bra, panties and a baggy t-shirt that smelled like Michael. Mina pulled the covers up to her neck feeling self-conscious.
Michael frowned as he watched Mina’s face turning red. He stalked to her side and leaned over her. “Your face is red. Do you have a fever, Miss Mina?” Michael questioned and when Mina was unable to answer he leaned even closer to her until he pressed his forehead against hers in order to check her temperature. Michael took that opportunity to breath in Mina’s unique rose scent.
Eeee! Mina inwardly squealed. She held her breath and tried not to stare at Michael’s muscular chest and strong arms. But it was hard.
Michael pulled back, and his brow furrowed, “You don’t seem to have a fever. How are you feeling, Mina?”
Mina stared back at Michael in disbelief. Did he really have no idea how he was affecting her? Well, she was the one who thought only her brother could arouse her, but apparently she was wrong. Dead wrong. Michael affected her, and he seemed to be utterly clueless about it! Just how naïve was this angel? Mina decided to find out. “I’m feeling…a little weak. After everything I’ve just been through I…” She gave Michael a choked up look.
Michael gave Mina a nod and a sympathetic look before patting her head. “Tristan…that jerk. He went too far.”
Mina sniffled. “I’m…a little hungry.” She said in a meek voice.
“You’re hungry? Wait here, Miss Mina. I’ll go prepare you something.” Michael declared before he exited the bedroom while still wearing nothing but a towel. This gave Mina a nice view of his back and the backs of his muscular thighs.
Mina hid a smile behind her hand. Michael had the body of a porn-star but didn’t know it. And he didn’t act like it either. Most guys who looked like Michael were egotistic jerks. But this guy was totally clueless. And Mina loved it. Loved that she could take advantage of his kindness and she intended to.
Mina was selfish, spoiled, and wanted to be treated like a princes. And here was a naïve, clueless angel who would do anything for her as long as she acted emotionally troubled, traumatized, and weak. As long as Michael thought that Mina needed him she’d have him wrapped around her little finger.
Michael…must be Tristan’s guardian angel. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Mina tapped her chin in thought. Well, sorry brother but I’m going to borrow your angel for a while…and maybe I’ll never give him back. An impish smile curled her lips.
Thirty minutes later, Michael returned to the bedroom holding a food tray with foldable legs. The tray was piled high with various delicious-smelling foods. “I’m back.” Michael greeted as he carried the tray over to Mina and set it down over her lap. “I didn’t know what you would like so I made you a little bit of everything.”
Mina looked down at the tray of food in awe. It appeared to be sparkling. There was a plate of scrambled eggs, sausages and buttered toast. A plate with a stack of blueberry pancakes that had been decorated with a whipped cream smiley face, strawberries and drizzled with honey caught her attention next. And there was even a plate of freshly cut fruit: cantaloupe, strawberries, kiwi, and banana. The glass of orange juice looked freshly squeezed. “Wow. You’ve really outdone yourself with this breakfast, Michael. I knew you could make chocolate…but I didn’t know you could cook too.”
Michael beamed at her praise and looked like a dog that had just been told ‘good job, boy’. In fact, Michael kind of reminded Mina of a dog now that she thought about it. He was big, fluffy, protective, and easily pleased. She could just picture his tail wagging behind him and had to hide another smile behind her hand.
Michael watched attentively as Mina sampled the delicious foods. She couldn’t stop the groan that passed her lips as she enjoyed a bite of blueberry pancake drenched in honey. “Mmm. Heavenly.”
Michael looked pleased by her reactions until he frowned at the sound she’d made and suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I’m going to go change.” Michael said, his voice sounding rougher for some reason. Michael quickly searched through his dresser drawers and found a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and boxers before hurriedly making his way to the bathroom.
Mina watched him go thoughtfully as she sucked on a strawberry. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Michael had been physically affected by her. A cat’s paw smile formed on her face. Perhaps the angel wasn’t so innocent after all. But if he were innocent she’d have fun corrupting him. This is going to be so good. She thought before plopping the entire strawberry into her mouth.
***
Over the course of the next few days, Tristan and Issy prepared together for the New York City Chocolate Expert Competition. They’d already filled out the necessary paperwork to enter the contest and sent it in. Tristan was listed as the head chocolatier while Issy was listed as his assistant. A list of the ingredients that would be made available during the competition had been mailed to them. The list had been pro
vided so that they could decide what kind of chocolate they wanted to make and practice making it until the competition. The theme of the competition was: ‘What do you think love tastes like?’
Tristan and Issy were currently standing behind the kitchen counter that was piled with a wide variety of ingredients to choose from and considering all of their options. They were running out of time and they still needed to decide what flavor of chocolate they would be making during the competition.
What does love taste like? Tristan frowned when he considered this question. Love…for him had been traumatic. He’d fallen in love with the most beautiful, kind woman he’d ever met. He’d even asked her to marry him but…when she’d started to change he’d broken up with her in order to protect her from himself. After that, she’d committed suicide and Tristan blamed himself for her death. For Tristan, love was dark and bitter. There was no way they could chose the chocolate they were going to make based on his own bitter experience with love. Tristan looked at the innocent Issy out of the corner of his eye and decided to ask her her opinion instead. “Issy, what do you think ‘love’ tastes like?” He held his breath as he awaited her response.
Issy looked over at Tristan and blushed. “Love…tastes bittersweet…” It’s bittersweet getting to be this close to you and yet I’m still so far away. She put a hand over her heart, which had started to speed up due to Tristan’s closeness. Getting to spend time like this with him was like a dream - a dream she didn’t want to wake up from. A dream she wanted to last forever…savor. “But when you bite into it…it’s oh so sweet. You want this, er, the moment to last forever.”
Tristan gave Issy a penetrating stare, clearly intrigued by her statement. His keen mismatched eyes were boring into her until she felt like he could see through her to her very soul. “Bittersweet on the outside, but oh so sweet on the inside. I like it.” He nodded in agreement. “We’re going with that, Issy.” Tristan stroked his chin in thought. “I think that for the competition we should make chocolate-covered cherries.” I’m glad I asked Issy her opinion. Because if I had answered this question I would have said ‘love’ was nothing but a bitter taste left in your mouth…filled with regret. Hazel…
Issy’s violet-colored eyes sparkled at the idea. (She was wearing violet-colored contacts that day). “I think that sounds like a great idea, Tristan! I love chocolate-covered cherries.” Almost as much as I like dark chocolate and oranges…which is simply more mysterious. Like the secrets that still lie in your heart, Tristan, and that I haven’t been able to solve yet.
Now that they’d decided what they were making, Tristan and Issy practiced making chocolate-covered cherries together for the next several hours. Issy savored the time she got to spend with Tristan alone, but wondered where Michael was, and worried if Mina was okay. Issy didn’t dare bring them up though since she was worried about killing the intimate mood she and Tristan had going on just then.
It’d been a few days now since Tristan had had sex but…he didn’t want to think about ‘sex’ at the moment. He just wanted to concentrate all his energy on coming up with the best chocolate-covered cherries. However, his body didn’t agree with his decision, and when Issy wasn’t looking he found himself staring at her hungrily. He’d rake his bi-colored eyes over her delicate china doll figure, soft curves, and porcelain white skin that looked oh so soft to the touch. Tristan ached to run his hands over her arms, up her legs. She had nice legs.
Tristan would get turned on and he’d have to run to the bathroom to take care of himself. He would reach his peak with Issy’s face in his mind and her name on his lips.
Afterwards, he’d feel incredibly guilty, dirty. Issy was fifteen and he was twenty-three. She was underage. He’d be considered a pedophile and could even go to jail. What he didn’t get was - this had never happened to him before. Tristan had never been attracted to a woman who was under the age of eighteen.
So then what the hell was wrong with him? He wondered. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist her innocent allure. She was probably still a virgin. He drooled wolfishly at the thought.
Tristan found himself imagining Issy when she grew older, and he’d be able to seduce her. He’d take off her wig to reveal her true hair color, he’d discover the true color of her eyes next, and then he’d take off that innocent dolly dress to reveal her female body. He groaned at the thought and could feel himself getting turned on again.
Sometimes when he pleasured himself to Issy’s image and imagined removing her Living Doll outfit he envisioned that she’d look like Coco. Sure, they both obviously had Asian descent, but…he knew that he was just seeing something he wanted to see. Not something that was real. Issy and Coco were two different people.
The chocolatier was surprised by how much he thought about the two young women. Now that he was avoiding having sex with a female…they were all he could think about. And what did that mean exactly? Did he have feelings for Issy? For Coco? Feelings that ran deeper than lust or desire? Tristan felt dizzy as all of these thoughts ran circles inside of his mind.
Issy’s mere presence in the kitchen beside him could get him aroused. Her sugar cookie and vanilla scent caused tingles to run up and down his arms.
But Tristan resisted.
His health was deteriorating from lack of sex but he continued to resist his attraction to Issy with all of his inner strength and willpower. Tristan was being tormented by guilt and self-disgust for his attraction to Issy and it was eating him up inside. He hid the fact that he needed her, however, and slapped his cheeks in the morning to get some color into his wane face.
It was times like this that Tristan wished Michael were there. He’d set Tristan right and remind Tristan that Issy was off-limits. Well, technically Issy was off-limits for three more years. Not that he was counting down the days or seconds or anything. But could he wait that long?
No, of course not. Whether Tristan liked it or not he would have to sleep with someone soon…or else he’d begin to waste away and eventually die.
Tristan didn’t want to think about that…about sleeping with some other woman when the only female he wanted was Issy. How had he managed to ignore his attraction to her for so long? He wondered. Now that they were alone together - it had become painfully obvious to Tristan.
He wanted Issy.
He liked Issy.
He may have even lo-
No!
He wouldn’t even let himself complete that dangerous thought.
***
The day of the New York City Chocolate Expert Competition had arrived. Issy was meeting Tristan in front of Dark Heaven at eleven o’clock in the morning. He planned to drive Issy in his Corvette to the competition venue, which was an hour away. ‘Sign in’ for the competition was at one o’clock and contestants who were late were instantly disqualified from the competition. This was why Tristan and Issy planned to get there an hour or so earlier, depending on traffic.
After Tristan had finished showering and getting dressed, he exited Dark Heaven and locked the door behind him. His Corvette was parked right in front. Tristan decided he’d get in his car and listen to music while he waited for Issy to show up. As Tristan approached his car a black BMW with tinted windows pulled up behind his Corvette. The doors of the BMW opened and three men dressed in suits, dark sunglasses, and fedoras stepped out and closed the doors behind them.
The hair on the back of Tristan’s neck prickled in warning. Those men looked awfully familiar.
“Hello Master Tristan.” One of the men greeted.
Tristan’s eyes widened in recognition. Oh crap…my family’s security guards!
“Uh…hey guys. Fancy seeing you here.” Tristan backed up, right into the chest of one of the security guards. Oh crap. How the hell did he get behind me? Tristan was about to spin around and kick the guy away from him, but his reflexes were slower due to his lack of sex and the security guard was faster. A cloth was shoved against Tristan’s face
and he breathed in a heavy chemical scent. Chloroform! “J-Jerk!” Came Tristan’s muffled voice. And then as he struggled against the security guard’s grasp he passed out.
***
Tristan awoke sometime later and rubbed at his bleary eyes from his position on a four-poster bed with leopard-print sheets. His chocolatier jacket was missing. He looked around the bedroom and his eyes widened in horror when he spotted the Magic Mike poster and realized where he was. The last thing I want to be looking at right now is Channing Tatum’s bare chest. He looked away only to see the stone statue of a satyr with a huge-
“Hello Tristan.” Came a sultry voice.
Tristan’s head snapped in the direction of the voice and he saw his stepmother sitting on an antique chair with a velvet cushion. Her legs were crossed in a sensual pose.
“Lorelai.” Tristan said through gritted teeth.
This was his stepmother’s bedroom and unfortunately he’d been inside of it before. His stepmother had the creepy habit of having her security guards drug Tristan and bring him to her room. She’d tried to seduce him on several prior occasions, but had never succeeded. Thankfully, Lorelai had never forced herself upon Tristan when he was in a drugged state and completely at her mercy, for which Tristan was grateful.
Lorelai thrived on male attention and not only from Tristan. She used her money to hire handsome male strippers, Chippendales, or male prostitutes to keep her entertained while her husband was away on his many business trips. Although Tristan wasn’t quite sure why Lorelai thought she had to pay to get male attention since she was an incredibly attractive woman.
If Tristan didn’t know for a fact that Lorelai was human he’d have suspected that she was actually a succubus. Her lust seemed insatiable. Or maybe…she was trying to find ‘love’ in all the wrong places? Tristan wondered for the first time. Mr. Adrian Savant ignored Lorelai and was always busy with work. Perhaps the real reason why Lorelai had affairs was because she was lonely and felt unloved. Though Tristan now knew just what a grave sin an affair was thanks to Raphael.
In that moment, Tristan felt pity for Lorelai. She probably had no idea what she was doing to her own soul. Lorelai had never been unkind to him. In fact, when he’d still been just a kid she’d treated him as her own child. She’d taken care of him when he was sick, made him rice porridge, given him his medicine, and placed cold packs on his feverish forehead. Lorelai used to buy clothes for him until he was able to go shopping by himself and seemed to really enjoy it.
It was only when Tristan had turned thirteen and hit puberty, and had begun to produce pheromones that her attitude had changed towards him from ‘motherly’ to ‘romantic’. Years later, when the security guards had him drugged and taken to her room where she’d try to seduce him for the very first time, Tristan probably would have slept with her if it hadn’t been for his sister Mina.
Tristan could never forget that Lorelai was Mina’s mother and so he’d never sleep with her willingly. Lorelai could have sexually abused him in his drugged state…but she hadn’t. The most she’d done was kiss him while he’d been unconscious or while he’d pretended to be. She’d also taken his clothes off once but she’d just stared at his naked body, unable to resist his dangerous allure.
Tristan didn’t blame her for her perverted behavior, however. In fact, he saw it as his own fault. He was the one producing pheromones that drove women crazy. So he was the one that had caused her lustful behavior. During his pre-teen years, Tristan had seen Lorelai as a mother figure and was saddened by the fact that she no longer saw him as her son, but as a potential lover. It had been like loosing a mother.
Currently, Lorelai was dressed in a red leather bodice, lacy red thong, black choker, fishnet stockings, and red high-heels. But what made Tristan do a double take was the headband with red horns on it that was on her head, the red tail with the barbed end that had been attached to the back of her underwear, and the plastic pitchfork she was holding. It took a moment for it to sink in that his stepmother was dressed in a sexy she-devil outfit. His eyes widened more and more as he took in what she was wearing. “W-What are you wearing?”
Lorelai stood up and approached the bed, hips swaying, and a mischievous smile curling her red lips. “Do you like it? There’s an urban legend about you on the Internet that you’re actually some kind of sex god…or perhaps even a demon. Does this outfit make me more attractive to you, Tristan?” She purred as she spun her tail in a circle.
Tristan gulped, as Lorelai got even closer. She crawled onto the bed cat-like and Tristan scrambled backwards and away from Lorelai until his back hit the headboard. He put his hands out in front of him. “Whoa, wait, what do you think you’re doing, Lorelai?”
Lorelai’s hooded sky-blue eyes glinted with lust. “What does it look like? I’m seducing you. This time for sure.”
Tristan frowned. He couldn’t kick Lorelai - she was a woman and hitting women didn’t sit well with Tristan. But she was being more aggressive than usual. And…maybe he didn’t want to resist her. His own body was responding to her sexy outfit and scantily clad form. Tristan was very sensitive to visual stimuli.
Tristan’s body was reacting to her…even if his mind was screaming: ‘No!’ Lorelai couldn’t have kidnapped him at a worse time. He was weak and vulnerable from lack of sex. His body was craving it with every fiber of his being. His breathing sped up as she drew closer to him.
Lorelai noticed that Tristan was turned on and reached out to caress Tristan’s cheek, causing him to shudder. He looked her straight in the eye. “Please…don’t do this, Lorelai.”
“It makes me so happy that you’re finally reacting to me.” Lorelai purred as she trailed her hand down over his chest causing Tristan to shudder.
“Please don’t…Mom.” Tristan begged.
Lorelai flinched at the namesake and snatched her hand back. She frowned. “I’m not your mother, Tristan. We’re not blood-related.”
“That doesn’t matter to me…I’ve always seen you as my Mother. Even if you are beautiful.”
Conflicting emotions warred inside of Lorelai’s heart. She was displeased that Tristan was calling her ‘Mother’ but pleased he thought her beautiful. Her inner conflict showed on her face.
“I know what you really want, Lorelai. I finally understand. You just want to be loved by someone, don’t you? Needed by someone? But…I do love you, Mom. And so does Mina. But…I can’t love you in the way you want me to. I can only love you as a son loves a mother - not in the way a man loves a woman. If you do this…you’ll truly lose me forever. I’ll never forgive you for this, Mom.” Tristan kept eye contact, his eyes boring into hers as he willed her to understand.
Lorelai pulled away from him and sighed. “You make it sound as if I’m forcing myself on you.” She pouted. “But your body is reacting to me. You want me, Tristan. You can’t deny it.”
The incubus shook his head. “I…I’ve been sick with the flu and I’m still feverish. And you look so sexy in that outfit that my body is reacting to it, but this isn’t what I really want, Mom. Please try and understand.” Tristan beseeched even as his body was shivering with desire.
Lorelai reached out to stroke Tristan’s cheek. “You’re just nervous, but don’t worry…there’s no rush. I’ll go get us some champagne. We’ll drink together and talk more about this, Tristan. I’m positive I can convince you that this.” She waved her hand between the two of them. “Is a great idea. I love you.” Lorelai leaned over Tristan and pressed her lips against his.
Tristan clenched his hands into fists and used all of his willpower not to respond to her kiss even though it was so sweet.
Lorelai pulled back a minute or two later looking a little disappointed that her kiss had garnered no reaction. “I’ll go get that champagne.” She slid off the bed, grabbed a red silk robe, wrapped it around her body, and tied the belt tight. Lorelai set her plastic pitchfork down on her dresser. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long, lover b
oy.” She winked at Tristan before blowing him a coquettish kiss.
Tristan dodged her air-kiss and shuddered violently. Having one’s mother hit on them was uber-creepy.
Lorelai left the bedroom, and closed and locked the door behind her. I’m her prisoner. Tristan glared down his traitorous body. He balled his hand into a fist and hit his own stomach.
The pain was able to clear the fog of lust from his mind. I have to get out of here! Tristan got off the bed, and stumbled forward since he was still a little out of it because of the chloroform. Somehow, he managed to stagger his way around the room as he looked for his chocolatier jacket. Spotting his jacket hanging on the back of a chair, he grabbed it, and quickly put it on. Tristan looked around the room, and spotted the windowed doors that led to the balcony. He opened the doors, made his way outside and looked over the edge of the balcony railing. Crap. It was a three-story drop.
It was too high to jump even for a demon like himself. He’d probably break both his legs if he attempted it. Tristan reentered the bedroom and looked around helplessly. That’s when his eyes landed on those tacky leopard-print bed sheets. A sudden devious idea came to him. Tristan Savant, you are a genius.
***
For the past week, getting to spend time with Tristan Savant alone in the kitchen making chocolate together had been divine - like a dream. Issy could feel that she and Tristan were growing closer. Finally, truly getting to know each other. The patissiere was sharing her passion for baking with Tristan and he was sharing his passion for chocolate with her. He truly loved chocolate. Tristan’s bi-colored eyes would sparkle anytime he talked about the confectionary treat.
Tristan would also tell her interesting facts about chocolate to which Issy had listened intently. “The word ‘chocolate’ comes from the Aztec word ‘cacahuatl’ which means ‘bitter water’. The scientific name for the cocoa tree is ‘Theobroma Cacao’ which is a Greek term meaning ‘food of the gods’. This is also why my customers have nicknamed me the ‘Chocolate Sex God’. The Mayans drank liquid chocolate during all kinds of occasions like engagements, weddings, baptisms, and even funerals.
“The Mayas valued cacao beans so much that they used it as a currency. A large tomato was worth one bean, a rabbit ten beans and a slave one hundred beans. The Mayans and Aztecs believed cacao beans came from paradise and would bring wisdom and power to anyone eating them. Chocolate is commonly believed to be an aphrodisiac and was used by Casanova, who mixed it with champagne to attract women.”
Tristan may have told people that the reason why he became a chocolatier was because of the women his store would attract, but Issy knew that Tristan truly had a passion for chocolate.
While they made chocolate together side by side, Issy could feel the heat of Tristan’s body, and smell his tantalizing scent of oranges and dark chocolate that made her mouth water and her knees weak. His mere presence aroused her and sometimes she could feel his heated gaze upon her when her back was turned. Like a wolf eyeing a lamb - a passionate look that sent tingles running up and down her spine. But when she’d turn around to see how Tristan was looking at her - he looked normal. Because of this, Issy figured she must have been imagining things. After all, there was no way Tristan would desire her - a fifteen-year-old Living Doll.
But she could dream. Dream about telling Tristan the truth about how old she was and revealing to him that she was his stalker ‘Coco’. She could dream about him seducing her, taking off her dolly clothes or Victorian dresses, and seeing her real hair and eye color for the first time. She could dream of him kissing her, touching her, and taking her on the kitchen counter.
The air seemed to be super-charged between them. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a butter knife. Or was it all in her mind? Issy wondered. They had continued to act normal around each other for the most part. Although when their hands would accidentally brush a shock of electricity would seem to pass between them and they would both shiver.
“Static electricity.” Issy would nervously say.
And Tristan would readily agree. “Yeah.”
Issy knew that Tristan wanted to concentrate all of his energy into practicing making chocolate in preparation for the competition. But there was one thing that was worrying Issy. And that was that since Becca it didn’t appear as though Tristan had slept with another female.
The chocolatier was growing paler by the day, weaker. Really, Issy should have insisted he go get laid. Rule Number Four of the Shadow Stalker Association: A Shadow Stalker must protect his/her target if they are in danger, but still do their best not to be seen.
But Issy found that she just couldn’t do it. Not now. Not when there was this invisible connection between them. Issy couldn’t tell Tristan to go have sex with someone else because…if she were truly being honest with herself she wanted him for herself.
Despite her feelings, Issy couldn’t selfishly tell him the truth yet. The patissiere decided that only after the chocolate competition would she finally tell Tristan her true age and maybe even her identity as his stalker.
I must wait until after the competition is over to tell Tristan the truth so that I don’t distract him. And then…perhaps we can finally be together.