Backward (9 page)

Harry hurried back, opened the door, and handed him the food before climbing inside. The rain had started again, pelting the windshield with huge drops. Harry backed out of his parking space and then slammed on the brakes. He gasped, swearing under his breath before slowly starting again. “People need to watch where they’re going.” He continued backing out and then pulled out of the parking lot and into slow-moving traffic.

The rain worsened, but they made it to Harry’s, and he pulled all the way up beside the house. “The one thing I don’t like is that the garage is in the back, in the alley.”

They made a run for it with Harry carrying dinner and Tristan clutching his bag close to himself to keep it dry. Harry unlocked the back door, and they rushed inside. Tristan dripped onto the kitchen floor, setting his bag on one of the chairs. After just those few seconds in the rain, he was nearly soaked to the skin and began to shiver in the air-conditioning. Harry couldn’t have been any drier.

“There’s a bathroom in the front hall. You can hurry in there to change while I get some plates so we can eat before it gets cold,” Harry said.

Tristan grabbed his bag and hurried to the bathroom, leaving as little water as he could on the floor. He closed the bathroom door and began stripping off his wet clothes. As he took them off, he wrung them out in the sink as best he could before opening his bag and taking out dry clothes that he laid on the counter. He used a towel to dry his skin before pulling on dry things. He hadn’t bothered with an extra pair of shoes, so he set those out to dry and carried the rest with him back to the kitchen.

Tristan stopped in the doorway. Harry had set the food on the table. He’d also pulled off his shirt and was in the process of pulling on a dry one. His face was obscured, but Tristan got a good look at Harry’s smooth, golden chest and flat belly. Tristan came into the room as Harry pulled the shirt down, the opening sliding over his face. “Umm, where do you want me to put the wet stuff?”

“I’ll run it downstairs, and then we can eat.” Harry took Tristan’s wet things and pulled open the door to the basement. Tristan walked to the table and sat down, waiting for Harry to return. It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps on the stairs and Harry came back in the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine. “We might as well enjoy ourselves.” He pulled a corkscrew from a drawer and opened the bottle, then dropped the corkscrew back in the drawer with a thunk of metal implements. Then he grabbed two glasses and joined Tristan at the table.

“Thank you for everything,” Tristan said quietly. “I really don’t mean to be a problem, and this has to be a total disruption of your life.”

Harry actually laughed. “Please. Yeah, you’re disrupting my home life, with only a cat for company.” Harry checked the floor, and Tristan did the same. They were both looking for the cat, but for very different reasons. Tristan was none too happy when Butterscotch eventually made an appearance. He watched her closely and somehow managed to keep from running from the room. “I’ll feed you as soon as we’re done here,” Harry said to the cat, but she mewled, so Harry got up and fed her. “Once she’s eaten she’ll settle down somewhere.”

“Okay.” Tristan continued watching her as he ate. As long as she stayed away, he was okay—the farther the better. He ate faster, trying to race the cat to be done eating so he wouldn’t be tied to the table. Once Butterscotch was done, Harry stood, picked up the cat, and carried her to another part of the house. When he returned he was alone. “You didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

“No. She’s out on the front porch. It’s screened, and she’ll spend hours out there exploring and looking for bugs. Don’t worry, I’ll let her in once we’re done eating.” He smiled. Tristan felt bad that he was pushing the cat out of her home because of his fear. “So did anything else happen at work?”

“After that?” Tristan chuckled. “Nothing compares. It was like a scene from a Three Stooges movie.” He had to laugh about it or he’d cry. “It went from frightening to slapstick to a total mess within seconds.”

“I bet you aren’t likely to ever have a lunch service like that again.”

“God, I hope not.” He continued smiling, but the fear-inducing portion of the incident was coming forward again. It had been overshadowed by the humor for a few seconds, but then it came rolling back. Eddie had been the source of the whole thing, and he’d had no compunction whatsoever about physically hurting him. In fact, it had only taken seconds to cause him pain, the residual of which still lingered.

“So do I.” Harry set down his fork. “If Eddie shows up at work again, please tell your boss and call me. Bull and I were able to hint at what he does, and I don’t think he’s going to be welcome, but don’t take any chances.”

“I can take care of myself,” Tristan began but then stopped. When it came to Eddie, he very clearly couldn’t. He knew that.

“Under normal circumstances, of course you can, but this isn’t normal. This is you versus an asshole who doesn’t play by the rules that anyone else lives by. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. Remember, this is a guy who sells drugs for a living. He doesn’t have a conscience or scruples.”

Tristan took a bite of his General Tso’s chicken. If that were true, then what did it say about him that he could date a guy like that and fall in love with him? There had to be something fundamentally wrong with him for that to happen.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Nothing. I know Eddie’s a jackass.”

“But you keep wondering what you did to make him that way?” Harry suggested.

Tristan shook his head. “More like how I could fall for a guy like that.”

“If you add enough cologne to a pile of crap, you can make it smell good. People like Eddie are great at creating an illusion. It’s how they get new customers and pull people into their lives. Most of the time they figure it out too late, and they can’t get away. You saw it and ended the relationship. The fact that he won’t let go isn’t your fault. It’s his problem. And for the record, there is nothing at all wrong with you.”

“Yeah,” Tristan sighed. “It’s easy for other people to say. I keep thinking that if I’d figured out what he was earlier, I could have ended things, or better yet, not gotten involved at all. Now my ex is affecting all my friends. My roommate and I can’t even stay at our apartment because my ex might go postal on us if he knows where we live. I’m staying here because of your hospitality, and dealers are coming into the club because Eddie is sending them looking for me. So yeah, there’s nothing wrong with me at all. Eddie’s after me because I’m too fucking cute to resist.” He rolled his eyes dramatically and set down his fork. Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry.

“You are cute… well, cute isn’t exactly the term I would have used, but it works. You really are kind of cute.” Harry smiled at him.

“The kiss of death. Who the hell wants to be cute?” Tristan made a face like he’d tasted something bad. “Hot and sexy are good. I’ll take striking, handsome, or even dashing if you want to get creative, but cute… that’s for bunnies and babies.”

Harry laughed at him, and Tristan wanted to reach across the table and smack Harry good. He was making fun of him, Tristan just knew it.

“I hate to tell you this, but you are kind of cute, especially when you’re angry and your cheeks and ears get all red.” Harry stopped chuckling, but Tristan’s anger and frustration didn’t dissipate. “There’s no need to get mad. Being cute is a good thing.”

“Come on, it is not. And you know as well as I do that the way I look has nothing to do with why Eddie is after me.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Harry agreed. “Eddie’s after you because he thinks you’re his, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what’s his back. I said it before: there’s nothing wrong with you. Plenty wrong with him, though. You can try to be funny about it all you like. But the truth of it is that Eddie showed you only what he wanted you to see until he had you in his sphere. Then when he thought he had you under his control, he showed his true colors.” Harry stared intently at him. “It takes a strong person to walk away.”

“I’m not sure how strong I was. More like scared to death. The guys and Bull would have killed me if I’d continued going out with Eddie once I found out what he was. Heck, Zach would probably have skinned me alive.” Tristan paused and took a deep breath. “It was my friends who saved me, because I knew they would be there for me.”

Harry stood up, and Tristan wondered what was going on. He walked around the table and pulled out the chair next to him. “Why is it you won’t give yourself credit? Leaving Eddie was something you did on your own. You realized he wasn’t the guy for you and got the hell out. That was strong and smart. Two characteristics I find very attractive… and cute.”

Tristan groaned, but before he could protest, Harry moved closer. He gently cupped Tristan’s chin in his warm hand. Tristan met Harry’s gaze and stared. Tristan swallowed hard, afraid to move and hoping Harry would finish what he’d started. Nothing had really happened, and yet Tristan could already feel this current of energy passing between them. His heart pounded with it, and his mouth went dry.

Harry stilled as well. Tristan wondered if he was going to move closer. Was Harry going to kiss him? The tension between them was almost overwhelming, and he needed it to end one way or another. Harry closed the distance between them. Tristan’s eyes drifted shut. Harry’s lips touched his.

The entire world stopped for a few seconds when Harry kissed him. The touch of his lips was like nothing Tristan had ever felt in his life—soft and firm, hot and yet fresh. He loved it and was afraid to move in case Harry stopped.

He didn’t. Harry deepened the kiss, tilting his head slightly to the side. Tristan gasped and then moaned softly as Harry lightly ran his tongue around the edge of his lips. The gentleness and care was something he wasn’t used to at times like these. Most of the men he’d been with took what they wanted, and any invitation was met with power and quick action. Tristan parted his lips, and Harry moved gently, deepening the kiss. Tristan prepared for it to go further, but Harry backed away, sucking lightly on his lower lip before ending the kiss.

Tristan quivered with excitement and sucked in a quick breath, meeting Harry’s gaze. “You kissed me.”

“Yes.”

“I liked it,” Tristan admitted.

“I could tell,” Harry whispered and smiled.

“Good.” Tristan put his arms around Harry’s neck and drew him close once more. Harry’s kisses were like potato chips—there was no way to stop at one. Not that Harry seemed to mind in the least. He wrapped his arms around Tristan, holding him close as they kissed again, this time with even more intensity. There was power in the way Harry held him and the desire Tristan could feel held at bay. That alone was attractive as hell. “Why are you holding back?”

Harry stilled. “Because I don’t know if you’re ready.”

“For what?” Tristan pressed.

Harry stood, bringing him along with him. Tristan’s knees nearly buckled as Harry pressed against him, chest to chest. Tristan’s heart pounded hard. He wanted this so badly, and as soon as Harry’s lips touched his, Tristan’s doubts flew from his head like a bird in flight. Harry cupped the back of his head, holding him still. Tristan looked into Harry’s intensely deep eyes, swirling with passion and desire. Harry wanted him. He could feel that from the bulge pressed against his hip. He also knew it from the way Harry held him.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

Harry drew his head back slightly, leaned forward, and took possession of his mouth. He was power and care rolled into one, giving what Tristan needed and taking only what Tristan was willing to give. That balance rocked Tristan’s world. He knew he wanted and needed someone strong in his life, but he also wanted a man who wouldn’t take advantage or try to overpower him. Others had done that. Tristan moaned softly into Harry’s mouth. He held his head still, not fighting Harry at all, letting him take charge, wanting him too.

“Where is the fire?” Harry whispered.

Tristan opened his eyes. “What fire are you talking about?”

“The one that poured water on Eddie? I know you have it. Don’t put it out because you’re nervous or unsure of yourself. Let me see it. I want it to burn for me.” Harry paused and didn’t move. “I’d hoped you felt that fire for me.” Harry stared in his eyes and then slowly relaxed his hold and stepped back.

“I don’t understand,” Tristan said, looking down and wishing he could crawl through the floor. If Harry wasn’t interested in him, then why had he kissed him and gotten him excited like that? Was it a trick, a joke? Was he just playing with him? “Was that some kind of test or something to see if I’m like those guys at the club?” Tristan asked loudly. “I’m not like that, not anymore.” He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned forward. “Maybe I should have known. I saw you leave with all kinds of guys. Well, I’m not one of them.” His voice got harder and louder as his rage built. “That fucker Eddie used me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone else use me too. I thought you might care. You looked at me like you cared, but you’re just like all the rest. I’m young and only a waiter, so what the hell, I must be dumb and an easy lay!” Tristan turned away.

“See? You do have fire,” Harry said.

Tristan whirled around. “Well, fuck you! If this is a game, I’m not playing anymore.” He left the room, heading for the bathroom to get his things. He figured he’d call Zach or someone, anyone, to pick him up. He could sleep on a sofa or something.