“So did you choose Hannah over James, after all?”
Ryan stiffened. In a blink of an eye, he had Tristan’s shoulders in a deathly grip, his eyes boring into him. “He told you that? Do you know where he is?”
Tristan blinked. Gone was the mask of indifference. The intensity of Ryan’s gaze was a little frightening.
Before he could say anything, Ryan let go of him and stepped back, his face blank once again. “No, don’t tell me anything.” He averted his gaze, a muscle in his jaw pulsing once. “I don’t want to know.”
How curious.
“I’ve known about his thing for you for ages,” Tristan said slowly. “But I don’t know where he is. Why would I if you don’t? What happened?”
Ryan lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, the tip flaring an angry red. “He left. Just like that.” He gave a short laugh. “He ended a fifteen-year-long friendship over the bloody phone.”
Oh. Tristan hadn’t thought James had the balls to cut the ties between him and Ryan, but it seemed he’d been wrong.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Tristan studied Ryan. Although he didn’t know everything, he could fill in the gaps with reasonable accuracy and guess what had happened. “But you’re back with the woman you love. Shouldn’t you be happy?”
“Happy,” Ryan repeated, as if it was a foreign word. He stared at the fireworks in the distance. “I’m happy. I’m bloody ecstatic.” He sounded anything but. When he spoke again, his voice was clipped, “It doesn’t matter. He did the right thing. It wasn’t working. It was just fucking with our minds.”
Tristan wasn’t sure what to say. “So he and you are done? Completely?” It was hard to believe. It just seemed…wrong.
“He said maybe we’d see each other in a few years.” Ryan let out a brittle laugh, fingers gripping the terrace railings. “A few years…”
Cocking his head to the side, Tristan studied him. “Did you fuck him? Is that why you freaked out?”
Ryan shot him a half-amused, half-pinched look. “Are you always this blunt?”
“Is that a yes?” Tristan said.
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Was it that terrible?”
“It wasn’t that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It was Jamie,” Ryan said, as if that answered it. Maybe for him, it did. “It was strange.”
“Obviously,” Tristan said with a chuckle. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. I’m one hundred percent gay, but when I was in the spotlight, once in a while I had to go out with women and shag them for appearances’ sake.” He pulled a face. “They were objectively beautiful, but even when I managed to get it up—and let me tell you, it was difficult as hell—the sex felt kind of gross and terribly unsatisfying. It wasn’t their fault, of course. It was me.” He looked at Ryan. “That’s what I’m talking about. It’s easy to fool your mind. It’s much harder to fool your dick. Sexuality can be fluid, but there are still limits. Something either turns you on or doesn’t. Of course the first time with another guy would be weird to a straight man. But did it feel gross and forced?”
“No,” Ryan replied after a moment.
“Was it a pity thing?”
“No,” Ryan said, sharper.
“Did you have trouble getting it up for him?”
Ryan said nothing, looking more irritated by the minute.
Tristan smiled a little, reminded of Zach. Zach acted the same way when he didn’t want to admit something even to himself. “You loved it, didn’t you?” he said softly.
Ryan pressed his lips together.
“Hey, I’m not judging!” Tristan said with a grin. “I just remember someone telling me half a year ago how gross shagging James would be—that it would be like shagging a brother.” Yeah, he loved saying I-told-you-so; sue him. It always felt nice to be proved right. “Though you aren’t actually related, so it’s only a bit naughty to love a guy like a brother and love fucking him, too.”
Ryan looked at him with an inscrutable expression. Then his arm shot out and dragged Tristan close.
“What—” Tristan started before Ryan pressed his lips against his. Tristan’s first emotion was panic (what if Zach finds out, gets mad and leaves him?), then the direction of his thoughts pissed him off (he wasn’t Zach’s property, dammit, and he refused to be so pathetic and clingy) and he relaxed, letting Ryan kiss him. Ryan was objectively hot and the kiss was objectively good. It just did nothing for him. It only reaffirmed to him that he loved Zach, and no matter how pathetic it was, he wanted only Zach’s kisses. He didn’t feel any passion in Ryan, either, so he wasn’t surprised to see a blank look on his face when Ryan pulled back.
“Your brother might actually kill you for that, you know,” Tristan said, wiping his lips. “He’s awfully possessive.” Tristan made a face. “My brother would probably kill me for that, too, actually. So let’s keep this to ourselves, okay?” He looked at Ryan curiously. “Did it help? Feel any gay?”