Tristan’s eyes drifted down to his plate. “So, you’ll cook for us. I hate to do it. I’m too busy to be bothered, and most of the time I order out.”
“It’s not enough.”
Tristan set his glass down and let out a heavy breath. The tips of his first two fingers tingled but he held them still. His chest felt heavy at the thought of Josiah walking back out to the streets. “I don’t typically ask things of people. I’m asking you to do this. It’s important to me. The why of it doesn’t matter. It’s a good opportunity. This is your life, Josiah. It would be stupid to pass it up.”
He picked up his sandwich and took a bite. Josiah didn’t reply. They both ate in silence. When Tristan was finished, he poured himself another glass of wine and waited.
Finally, Josiah spoke. “I’ll...I’ll do it.”
“Look at me when you say it. I want to see your eyes.” He really shouldn’t fucking want that, but he did. Wanted to take in their unique light and dark shades of green. So damn sexy.
“I’ll do it. But I’m paying you back. And I’ll clean the house, too, not just cook. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Tristan gave him a simple nod before standing. “I’m taking a shower, and then we can go get your things. I washed and dried your clothes. I’ll grab them for you.”
The eyes he’d just been admiring went wide. “My stuff. I had something in the pocket. It’s... It’s important to me.”
Why? he almost asked, but didn’t. “Your queen. I remember. It’s safe.”
When Tristan walked out of the room, he saw nothing but the homemade chess piece, and wondered about who had given it to Josiah, and what he’d meant to him.
Chapter Ten
April
Josiah
Half of the time, Josiah didn’t know how to act. Tristan was gone a lot. When he was home, he spent hours at a time in his office. There were days that even though they lived together, Josiah didn’t see him for more than fifteen minutes while they ate dinner.
And there were days where even that didn’t happen.
Guilt gnawed at him daily. This was Tristan’s home, and he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable in it. It was obvious he did, but whenever Josiah brought it up, Tristan told him he was being ridiculous and the subject would be dropped.
It didn’t make the guilt go away, so he threw himself into getting his life together—making sure this wasn’t for nothing. He’d registered to start school in January, taking as many classes that were available to him. He applied for financial aid, and saved every dollar that he could from working at Fisherman’s Roast. Each payday, he left fifty dollars for Tristan to go toward the laptop he’d given him, and though he could tell Tristan didn’t like it, he never said a word. He just took the money, opened a bottle of wine, and then he and Josiah would sit at the table in near silence.
The house was always clean, and even when Tristan didn’t come home, Josiah cooked. It was all he could do, and he wanted to do it well.
There were times Tristan got phone calls and suddenly left. Once, Josiah asked him about it, and all Tristan did was mutter a, “veto.” Like so many conversations, it ended before it really began.
Classes started, and he got into a routine of school, work and paying his way by keeping up with the house. And of course, there were his walks. He still went every day. Took the bus across town, because even though he tried to lock his past away with the wooden queen stuffed in the pouch of the backpack he always carried, he couldn’t leave the walks behind. And the queen was no longer in the pocket of his jeans. Even though it was a small step, to Josiah, it was something.
But what he did miss was Tristan taking those walks with him. He thought maybe Tristan would join him again, but he still never had. No matter how much he wanted to, Josiah didn’t have the courage to ask him.
“Hey,” Elliot said one day after work. “Do you want to hang out or something when our shift is over? Seems like you’re crazy busy now that you’re going to school.”
Josiah smiled. “Like you aren’t?”
“Yeah, that’s true. But I’m not tonight, so let’s go see a movie or something.” He leaned against the counter in the break room.
Josiah shook his head. “I have homework to do, and Tristan’s working on a big case. I want to make sure he has dinner when he gets home.”
Elliot shook his head. “This whole thing is so crazy. I mean, cool for you, but crazy. You’re a twenty-four-year-old guy who just started college, works at a coffee house, yet you’re with one of the top prosecutors in the state. Wish I could find a woman like that.”