Page 45

Chapter Eleven

Michael tried tamping down his doubts. Tristan would be like Jamie and lose interest. He’d claim Michael was truly too boring. His boyfriends always got tired of his love of books and preference for staying in rather than clubbing. Tristan sounded like he’d turned over a new leaf, but come on. Tristan had flourished—according to him—in the trendy club scene. He’d want the party life back and to be the center of attention. Sure, Sullavan was a great escape, but it was a matter of time before he went full circle.

He sat beside Tristan on the couch and ate in silence. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what Tristan had said.Oh well.

Tristan finished his mac and cheese first, then put his bowl on the table. “That was so good.” He leaned over and kissed Michael on the cheek. “You should cook more often.”

“Nah. All we’d eat would be pasta.” He scraped the last few bits from his bowl.

“So we’d have to run a little more to exercise off the carbs…it’s not an awful way to be together.” He patted Michael’s leg. “You’re staying tonight, correct?”

“I am unless you tell me to beat it.” He sounded confident, but damn, his hands were shaking.

“Perfect.” Tristan stood. He stretched and rolled his shoulders. “Let me make a phone call and then we’ll tackle the library.”

“Sure.” He almost asked who, but didn’t. Whoever Tristan had to call was none of his business.

“Be right back.” Tristan left the room and strode out to the front porch.

Michael didn’t bother to listen in. Whatever Tristan had to say wasn’t for him to know. He carried the empty bowls to the kitchen, then filled the sink with soapy water. He dunked the bowls into the suds. What else did he need to wash? The pans and utensils needed to be cleaned. He gathered up the items and put them into the water, too.

While he washed the bowls and pans, his thoughts turned to Tristan. As much as he wasn’t sure about where things were going, he still couldn’t believe his good fortune. Tristan was a catch—not for his social standing or financial status, but as a man. Tristan wasn’t freaked out by Michael’s connection with Al and seemed to like him. They weren’t just sex partners, but friends too. He could see them starting the ‘something epic’ Tristan kept mentioning.

“Hey.” Tristan strolled into the room. “You’re cleaning.”

“Of course. I made the mess. I’ll take care of it.” He laughed. “I take it you don’t?”

“I usually have my butler, Dennis, follow behind cleaning up after me.” Tristan shrugged. “It was part and parcel of my life.”

“I know.” He washed the second bowl and placed it in the rack, then turned his attention to the pan. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I needed to touch base with home, er, New York again.” Tristan dried the bowls. “And I had to call my agent and publisher. They want my book, like, now and I have some done, but not enough. Then I had to check in with my butler. He’s kind of my friend, but more like my keeper. It’s strange, but it works for us.”

Michael nodded. He’d never had a butler and had no idea how the butler and Tristan were so close, but whatever.

Tristan dried the pan. “You’re quiet. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m happy.” Contented and soothed by washing the dishes. He liked the mundane aspects of life and being with someone.

“Yeah?”

“It’s been a long time.” Not only since he could say he was happy, but since he was able to admit it out loud.

“It’s been too long and I’m going to do my best to make it up to you.”

“Why? You didn’t cause my issues.” He shook his head. Sometimes Tristan made no sense.

“No, I didn’t, but if I had come back to see my uncle, we might have met sooner and could be an old couple by now.” He kissed Michael on the cheek. “I’d have been happier.”

“I think this is when we were supposed to find each other.” He pulled his soapy hands from the water and caressed Tristan’s bare chest. “Any earlier and we wouldn’t have been ready for each other or what we’ve got.”

“Yeah?” He wrapped his arms around Michael. “Think so?”

“I do.”

“I like the way you think, then.”

He kissed Tristan. Being with Tristan emboldened him. If he didn’t say what he wanted, he’d never get it. “I like the way you suck and you liked the way I did, too.”