“Where are you staying tonight?” Tristan asked later that evening.

Ben’s eyebrows rose again. He did that often, Josiah noticed. He did it each time he tried to get under Tristan’s skin. It always worked.

“There are plenty of hotels for you to choose from,” Tristan told him.

“Is that any way to treat an old friend?” Ben replied.

“He’s right.” Josiah hated the truth in the words, but he was. There was no reason for him to put out the money on a hotel when Tristan had space here. Not that he doubted Ben couldn’t afford it.

Slowly, Tristan turned to Josiah. His eyes studied him. His jaw set the way he did when Tristan tried to see deeper than what someone was showing him.

He gave Josiah a simple nod before facing Ben. “One night.”

Once Ben disappeared into the room that held Josiah’s things, the two of them went to Tristan’s. They were quiet as they brushed their teeth and got ready for bed. Josiah turned out the lights and climbed into bed behind Tristan.

“Why don’t you ever talk about him?” he asked. Was there more between them than Tristan could admit? The thought made him nauseous, but did he really have that right? Yes, he loved Tristan, even though Tristan couldn’t say the same to him, but then, a piece of his heart would always belong to Mateo, too. It had faded farther to the background now, but it still hid there.

“I don’t talk about anything if I don’t have to, Josiah. You know that.”

“But you talk to him about me?” That had to mean something.

“No, he’s a nosey bastard who pushes until I give in.”

Or not. Still, when Tristan kissed him, Josiah let him. When he stripped off all Josiah’s clothes, he let him do that, too. Hunger rose through him. The need to feel like Tristan was really his, without the words.

Josiah tilted his head back as Tristan’s mouth kissed down it. “I want you,” Josiah whispered.

“I’m right here.”

He ran one hand through Tristan’s hair, the other down his back. “No... I want you. I want to know what it’s like to be inside you. To make your world shatter, the way you do with me.”

Tristan’s lips stopped moving. His body shivered. “Why? Because Ben is here? You’ve never wanted to fuck me before.”

“I might not have asked, but of course I wanted to. I told you, I want to take care of you, too.” Give me that. Give me something to hold on to.

Tristan scooted off him. “No. And don’t pretend this is about something it’s not. If you want to fuck me, make it about wanting me, and not out of jealousy.”

His fear came out of hiding, running through him. Josiah grabbed Tristan’s arm when he tried to get out of bed. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not jealous, but you have to know this is about you. That I want all of you.”

Tristan sighed and pulled his arm free. Josiah thought he would walk away, but he paused a moment before sitting on the bed. “I can’t give you that, Josiah.”

The tone of his voice and the hard expression on his face made Josiah’s skin crawl. “Tristan?”

“Drop it, Josiah. If you don’t, I’ll pull away.”

The honesty in his words stabbed a hole through Josiah’s heart. But then, he’d said them. He’d said them because he didn’t want to walk away.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Tristan lay down and pulled Josiah to him. Josiah rested his head on Tristan’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

It took a lifetime for Tristan to answer. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the things you deserve.”

“I love you.”

Tristan squeezed him tighter and didn’t let go all night.

Chapter Seventeen

Tristan

The next couple months, Tristan tried to keep that night from his head. Tried to forget Josiah’s question and the knowledge in his voice and the knowledge in Tristan’s head. Because there were things he couldn’t give Josiah, and maybe would never be able to.

The thought of anyone inside him filled him with rage. Made him feel like the man who sold his body to get where he was. But he’d done what he had to. He could now care for his mom, and no one would ever be able to take that away from him, but he sold it for the price of his dignity. Of his pride. And even though Josiah made him want to push those things aside, he couldn’t.

So he couldn’t let Josiah fuck him. Couldn’t tell Josiah he loved him. What did he have to give?

Josiah never mentioned it again. He still shared Tristan’s bed and still offered his body. They cooked together and walked together, but Tristan always had the knowledge in the back of his head. The truth he’d somehow let himself forget. They were different. Tristan could play the game, but he never fully gave himself to anyone.