Ben sighed. “He’s in your home, Tris. I’ve never been there, and I’m the only person you care about, even though you pretend you don’t. Lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me.”
Tristan closed his eyes, trying to bury Ben’s words so deep inside him he wouldn’t have to hear them. Yes, he did care about Ben. He was the only person he ever really cared about besides his mother. Yet, Ben didn’t even know about her, didn’t know to add her to his sentence. Somehow, that knowledge gutted him.
“I have to go.”
Ben was quiet. Tristan gave him a little while to speak. Ben always had something to say, but when half a minute passed by with nothing but silence, he ended the call.
Tristan stood and shoved the phone into his pocket. It was never out of reach in case his mom or work needed him. After grabbing a T-shirt from the chair in the corner, he slid it on before opening the door. Josiah waited on the other side, still wearing Tristan’s clothes.
Jesus, there was something sexy about seeing Josiah in his clothes.
“You said to make myself at home, so I hope you don’t mind, but I made us some lunch. You’ve been working for a while, so I thought you might be hungry. It’s okay if you’re not, and I’ll replace the food. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Tristan felt a kick of guilt. Sure, he’d brought him home, but he’d also been an asshole to him this morning. He’d walked away from him with no real excuse and left him alone for two hours, yet Josiah had still made him lunch. It was a small thing. It wasn’t as though a man had never cooked for him, or as though there weren’t men who would do anything to be in Tristan’s home right now. The difference was, they wanted something from him. As far as he could tell, Josiah didn’t.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Tristan told him.
Josiah shrugged. “I wanted to. It’s not a big deal. Just some ham and grilled cheese sandwiches, and a salad.”
Tristan gave him a simple nod before holding out his hand and telling Josiah to go on. He did, and Tristan walked behind him down the stairs. He had the food on the table, with silverware next to the plates and dressing in the middle.
“I didn’t know what you’d want to drink.”
Tristan chuckled, his own ears shocked at the sound. “I think I’m going to need wine. A lot of wine. What do you prefer?” He headed for the wine fridge.
“I don’t know. I don’t know much about wines.”
Tristan looked over his shoulder at Josiah and wrinkled his forehead. “We’re going to have to do something about that. Sit. I’ll pick something good.”
Tristan let his fingers ghost along the bottles until he found what he wanted.
Josiah sat at the table facing away from him. He watched as Josiah’s shoulders jerked when he popped the cork. Tristan grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet and set them on the table, filling first Josiah’s glass and then his own. He placed the bottle down, and then sat across the table.
“What do you think?” he asked Josiah, who then picked up his glass and took a small drink.
“It’s good. Sweeter than I would have thought.”
Tristan didn’t know why that made him smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He took in the man sitting across from him in clothes that were too big on him as they drank wine that cost nearly three hundred dollars a bottle. It made him smile again.
“You don’t do that often.” Josiah took another drink.
“What?”
“Smile. Oh, there it goes. I shouldn’t have mentioned it because you’re frowning now.”
Was he? He guessed he was. Tristan ignored the comment. “I have an extra laptop you can use to look up whatever information you’ll need—”
“I can’t do that. I decided while you were working. I can’t stay here. Can’t put my problems off on you. It’s not right.”
He respected Josiah for those words, while at the same time making him frown deeper. “You’re not putting your problems off on me. Your responsibilities are still your own. The only thing I’m doing is giving you a free place to stay. And a small loan, if need be. You’ll pay me back.” He didn’t want Josiah’s money, but knew he would insist on it, as most men would.
“No,” Josiah shook his head. “It’s not right. It would be years before I could repay you. I have to earn my keep.”
Ah, the things he could say to that. But he wouldn’t. Not after his past.