Broken Pieces
Page 48

 Riley Hart

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Josiah shook his head. “This isn’t cold. Plus, I walk all year. It doesn’t matter the season.”
“Why?”
Josiah quirked an eyebrow at him, a sign of comfort that hadn’t been there when they started their walks. “Veto.” Then he nodded toward Tristan. “I noticed... I don’t know why I want to know, but you press your first two fingers to your pulse in your wrist a lot. Why?”
Tristan fought to keep himself from doing it now. It was something he’d done since he was a kid, when he needed something to focus on to block out his surroundings. No one had ever noticed him do it before. But then... it didn’t surprise him that Josiah did. Maybe that’s why he said, “To keep me steady,” rather than veto.
Josiah’s cheeks flushed as he looked up at him and smiled. Tristan fought the urge to touch him. To brush his thumb over Josiah’s cheek like he had done that first day all those months ago.
Josiah
November
Josiah stepped up to Tristan, at their spot by the water where they always met. “Here, I brought you a scone. It’s the berry one you always get.”
A couple times a month, Tristan came in and bought himself a berry scone. He never ate it there, but Josiah figured he had to really like them if he bought them so often.
“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s in exchange for the hoodie, I guess. You wouldn’t let me say no, so I’m not letting you, either. I know it’s not the same, but take it.”
Tristan smiled at him before raising his hand. His fingers brushed Josiah’s as he grabbed the bag, making shivers that had nothing to do with the weather rush through him. They walked again. Every few minutes, Josiah’s eyes darted toward Tristan. He wore a nice trench coat that probably cost more than anything Josiah owned. They probably looked ridiculous walking together. For the millionth time he wondered why they were. Why Tristan continued to meet him.
But he was glad Tristan did.
It was the end of the walk, Tristan turning to go back to his car when something made Josiah say, “Wait.”
“Yes?” Tristan asked.
“School. I... I think you’re right. I want to go. I don’t know if I’ll be able to, if I can figure it all out, but I don’t want to hold myself back anymore.” And it was him. He could blame Mateo all he wanted, but Josiah controlled his own actions. “So, yeah... That’s my goal. To figure out how I can go to college next year. I’ll be twenty-four on December first. It’s time... I just...” he was rambling. Why couldn’t he stop rambling? “I wanted you to know. It’s partially because of you, and—”
His words were cut off by the feel of Tristan’s mouth coming down hard on his. His tongue slipped between Josiah’s lips, and he let it, savored it, while a voice in his head couldn’t help but think how different it was from his first kiss with Mateo. Teo had gone slow, eased him into it, while Tristan pulled Josiah tight against him. His hand slid under the back of Josiah’s sweatshirt, landing on his bare skin.
It was hungry and urgent. Josiah found himself wrapping his arms around Tristan’s neck. Pushing closer, soaking in the feel of another body against his after so long.
He instantly went hard—felt Tristan’s erection, too.
Tristan wanted him. He wanted Josiah.
But then he pulled away. The foot between them felt like miles. “I haven’t kissed anyone in almost six years. Not since Teo.”
He wanted the words back. His body froze and felt numb at the same time. That was stupid. So damn ridiculous. He shouldn’t have brought up Teo. Not after the kiss.
It felt like his insides were being ripped apart. Pulled two directions—the one who wanted to grab Tristan and kiss him again, to explore his body, and the one who missed Mateo. Who would always miss Mateo.
Tristan’s stare went blank, his eyes concentrative in a way Josiah didn’t understand.
“I’m...” He didn’t have a chance to reply before Tristan walked away.
Tristan
December 1st
“I asked for the files to be on my desk when I got to work. Can you explain to me why they’re not here?” He squeezed the phone tightly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Croft. I got a little behind this morning. I’ll bring them right now—”
Tristan hung up the phone so he didn’t throw it across the room. When Annie brought the file in, he found it in himself to apologize, knowing it wasn’t her fault they were busy and he was being an ass.
It’s just the walks, he told himself. They’d loosened him up somehow, been the perfect way to start the day, but he hadn’t been in three and a half weeks. Not since the day he kissed Josiah.