Wasn’t it supposed to be better by now?
Maybe next month, Gabriel told himself—the same thing he’d said the previous month.
Chapter 7: Lies We Tell Ourselves
One month later
Tristan would be the first to admit he had no problem bending the truth a little to get what he wanted. Most people would call what he did dishonesty; Tristan called it being smart. Besides, it had one major advantage: since he was good at pretending to be what he wasn’t, he could easily recognize when other people tried to do the same thing.
Tristan leaned against the locker, watching Gabriel take his sweat-soaked shirt off. He continued ignoring Tristan, although the bland smile he’d been sporting earlier during the training session was nowhere to be seen.
Cocking his head, Tristan studied him. “How is the baby? Jules, isn’t it? Nice name. I’ve always been partial to names beginning with J.”
Gabriel’s hands stilled for a moment before he turned his back to him and changed into a fresh shirt.
Tristan pursed his lips. Gabriel used to be more fun. These days it seemed he just didn’t give a fuck about anything. It annoyed Tristan, and it annoyed him that it annoyed him. It was normally amusing when his so-called brother was having a shitty day, but Gabriel’s continued disinterest in everything was downright boring. It sucked all the fun out of it.
“So are you going to make an honest woman out of Claire?” Tristan said.
Gabriel didn’t rise to the bait. “Just say what you’re here for and piss off.”
“Just wanted to tell you I saw an interesting article in the Daily Mail yesterday,” Tristan said, watching Gabriel like a hawk. “It was about an American footballer, Oscar Mone.”
No reaction. Tristan smiled. Huh, Gabe really didn’t know. That made it even better.
“I’d never heard of him before,” he continued. “But then again, who cares about American players? But anyway, the bloke got outed when he was photographed smooching a well-known sports doctor. Guess who?”
Gabriel’s shoulders stiffened. Finally. A reaction. But it was a very predictable reaction, considering Gabriel’s weird thing for Jared Sheldon.
Tristan made a face at the thought. Before his paralysis, Gabriel used to be more like him, but after his return from the rehabilitation center, he was practically a different person. Tristan couldn’t believe how clingy Gabriel had become around Jared. Gabriel was insanely possessive of the guy and didn’t want to share Sheldon’s attention with anyone.
If Tristan didn’t know better, he would think Gabriel had a thing for Jared or something, but he did know better. Unlike him, Gabriel was as straight as it got, so his attachment to the guy was beyond weird.
“Mone was all over Jared,” Tristan said. “They seem very happy together.”
Gabriel remained still, his back to him. Tristan couldn’t see Gabriel’s face, but he didn’t need to. “I’m so glad for him,” Tristan said casually. “Jared deserves a break after babysitting you for years and having no personal life to speak of.”
Turning around, Gabriel slipped into his jacket. “Why don’t you just sod off and leave me alone?” he said, buttoning it up. His face was blank, but his fingers were unsteady, jerky.
“Sorry, did I hit a nerve?” Tristan said with a sweet smile.
Gabriel glowered. “Get lost.”
“Hey, just saying.” Tristan lifted his hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t mean to…upset you.”
“I’m not upset.”
“You don’t need to put on a brave face,” Tristan said, donning his sincerest expression. “We’re family, after all.”
The glare he received was positively murderous.
Tristan dropped his mask and met Gabriel’s eyes. “Seriously, get a grip. You’re boring me. It’s no fun to kick someone who’s already down. You’re no challenge these days.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Tristan let out a laugh. “You’ve been behaving like a kicked puppy for months. A puppy without its owner. That’s just sad and pathetic.”
A muscle pulsed in Gabriel’s cheek.
Tristan sneered. “Your weird clingy thing for Jared was pretty pathetic in itself, but this—the useless moping—is a new low for you. If you really want him back so much, what’s the problem? Get him back.”
“He doesn’t want to come back,” Gabriel grated out.
Tristan raised his eyebrows. “So? If I want something, I’ll walk over anyone to get it, instead of moping and doing nothing. You used to be the same way—”
“Used to be,” Gabriel bit off. “Not anymore.”
Tristan cocked his head. “Really? You can fool everyone else, but you and I? We know the truth. We’re cut from the same cloth. Deep down, you’re the same greedy, self-centered shit you were as a kid. Don’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind: to do the wrong thing, the selfish thing, and fuck everyone else.”
Gabriel’s Adam’s apple moved.
“It has,” Tristan said softly. “You can pretend to be the good guy all you want. But you’re not the good guy. You’re no better than me.” He chuckled. “But you know the difference between you and me? Sometimes I might tell a little white lie to get what I want, but at least I’m honest with myself. I know what I am, and I’m cool with it. I’m an asshole and I’m awesome.” He held Gabriel’s gaze. “And I definitely don’t need the white picket fence to feel better about myself.”