His erection stood tall, hard, and so goddamned beautiful he needed to taste it. “Come here.”

Without needing further prompting, Josiah walked over, stopping next to him. “His taste is still on my tongue, Josiah. I want yours there with his.”

Damned if Josiah didn’t smile before bending over and taking Tristan’s mouth. Their mouths molded together, tongues tasting each other. It wasn’t enough.

Tristan pulled back, ordering Josiah to sit on the desk in front of him. His veined shaft, right in front of Tristan’s face. He took it into his mouth, loving the feel of the velvet-covered steel against his tongue. Josiah’s hand went into his hair, little moans escaping his lips as Tristan’s mouth moved up and down his length. And when Josiah came, Tristan swallowed down his seed before resting his forehead against Josiah’s thigh.

Josiah’s hand was in his hair again when he said, “I won’t give you up, Tristan.”

Hearing that calmed some of the storm inside him. “I know. And you’re mine. I won’t give you up, either.”

Despite it all, he knew Josiah couldn’t give up Mateo, either.

As they sat there, Tristan weaved his arms around Josiah’s waist and wondered what they were going to do...or why he wasn’t more upset that Josiah couldn’t lose Mateo, either.

Chapter Twelve

Josiah

That morning, Josiah walked alone. Tristan had made an excuse as to why he couldn’t go. Briefly he wondered if Mateo would show up but knew he wouldn’t. He wondered if they both understood that he needed the time alone.

Despite being summer, the morning had a chill to the air that Josiah loved. The wind blew across the water, making him tremble as he took the path that he knew so well.

Thoughts of Mateo and Tristan filled his head, thick as the fog over the water. He struggled to settle on one thought—that Mateo was back, what they’d done, that Tristan and Teo had shared a kiss. The fact that they walked this very sidewalk together while Josiah kept himself locked in his hotel room.

Running.

Hiding.

He was good at that. After all these years, he still did it, still hid away waiting for someone else to protect him. How many times had he vowed not to do that only to fall into the same damn habit again?

Josiah stopped, slipped his hand in the bag and tossed some food for the birds. A flock of them descended on it, fighting and pushing their way through to get as much as they could. It was an instinct, automatic, the only way to survive. They took what they needed, and damned if he didn’t want to do that, too.

Tristan and Mateo were worth fighting for. Worth fighting to have. If there was ever something in his life he’d scratch and claw to have, it was them. It didn’t matter how unconventional it was. They were both a part of him, both always had been, and damned if he would let himself lose that. He knew he should probably be jealous that Mateo and Tristan had a quick bond he didn’t completely understand, that they shared a kiss he wasn’t a part of, but he wasn’t. Because as much as Tristan said he thought Josiah and Mateo were beautiful together, he knew Tristan and Mateo would be, too. Knew whatever happened in that office didn’t change how they felt about him.

With that in mind, Josiah emptied the bag and turned to head back toward Fisherman’s Roast. He had no idea how he would pull this off, but he knew he needed to. For him, and for them, because he knew they needed him. Maybe they even needed each other, too.

Work was busy for most of the morning. The bell over the door jingled a few minutes before lunch. Josiah looked up to see Elliot step inside.

“Hey, man. Thought I would stop by on my lunch break today. How’s it going?” Elliot stepped up beside him.

“Can you hang out a few minutes to talk?” He didn’t realize he needed a friend until Elliot came in.

Elliot frowned a little as though he realized something was going on but nodded and said, “Sure. I’ll wait outside for you.”

Josiah told the employees he was heading to lunch, clocked out, and then met Elliot outside. Josiah smirked at him, tugging on his button-up shirt. “You look like Tristan. Feel good not to walk around smelling like coffee every day?”

Elliot laughed. “Are you kidding? It’s still coming out of my pores.”

They walked over to one of the benches by the water and sat down. Elliot waited quietly like the psychologists he saw in movies, letting Josiah lead the way. “Remember the guy I told you about? The one from when I was younger?” Elliot didn’t know everything, or even close to everything, about Teo, but he knew some.