When his roof caves in, Sean Lovett thinks things can’t get any worse. Until he loses his job, adding yet another bump in the rocky road of his life. None of his so-called friends can—or will—help. And asking a favor from his abusive ex? Hard pass. Luckily, his sister comes to the rescue and offers him a great apartment—in the city, no less—until he can get back on his feet.
“Listen. I didn’t mean to pop off on you. It’s only been a few years, and it’s still fresh in my head.”
“S’okay.” Sean inclined his head. “Was that why you left the police department? I mean, retired?”
Tristan stared at the blinding white counter, his thoughts pensive. “Like I said, I don’t like talking about it. It’s a time in my life that’s over.”
If only that were true. When he closed his eyes every night, all he saw was Terry sinking to the floor and bleeding from the neck, and the night became an endless source of pain and blackness. The struggle not to fall apart was real, all the self-doubt and loathing running through his blood like poison.
He hoped Sean listened to him and this conversation would close the book on any further discussion of his personal life.
Sean eyed the drink, and Tristan couldn’t help smiling. Sean was really cute. “Go on. It’s not going to bite you.”
Dubious, Sean took the cup, sniffed it, then drank a little. “All right. This is pretty decent.”
Feeling like he’d accomplished something special, Tristan folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “Drink some more so we can eat. I’m hungry, and that food smells good.”
“I thought it would taste like dirt.” Sean gulped some more and licked his lips. Tristan stood, transfixed by the sight of Sean’s pink tongue sweeping over the fullness of his lower lip.
Shit. Get it together. You can’t fuck this guy and walk away. He’s Ray’s family. Forbidden fruit.
Struggling with this unanticipated physical reaction, Tristan rubbed his face. “I don’t drink dirt,” he grumbled and pulled over one of the containers of food Sean had set out. “What did you get me to eat, by the way?”
“Veggie dumplings and this crispy thing with mixed vegetables. Not tofu. The other one. I can’t remember, but they said it tastes more like meat. I hope you like it a little spicy.”
“Crispy?” Tristan popped the top off. “Ah, seitan. Now that’s the good stuff. And yeah, I do. Like it spicy, that is.”
“I had a feeling.” Sean had his chopsticks in hand and wrinkled his nose. “That may be okay, but it’s not going to be as delicious as my orange chicken. And I got some scallion pancakes too. My favorite.” He shoved a big piece of pancake into his mouth and chewed. “Oh God, that’s good. Better than sex. Better than my birthday. Better than sex on my birthday. Mmm.” He picked up a piece of the chicken with his chopsticks, and cheeks bulging, took a bite.
In the middle of swallowing a piece of his dumpling, Tristan choked and wheezed at Sean’s words. “Whoa. Okay, those must be some good pancakes.”
