by M. J. O'Shea
“I have to be here.” He angled himself into the corner so even a wily Henry couldn’t manage to herd him out the door. “I have to explain everything to you.”
“I think you did an excellent job of explaining at the party.”
“No. No. It came out all wrong. Literally. I didn’t mean it how it sounded. I wasn’t using you, Henry. I wasn’t.”
Henry looked puzzled. And hurt. It was the first time since the party he’d seen vulnerability on Henry’s face, and it sliced deep. “When I asked you if you planned everything to get to my father, you said yes. Now you’re telling me you didn’t? That doesn’t make any sense, Tristan.”
“I misunderstood your question. When you asked if I’d planned everything, I said yes to the party. I planned the party to introduce you to my boss. It wasn’t even my idea and I was so stupid for agreeing to it, Henry. I wish I could take it back every second of every day.”
“You planned… the party?”
“Yes. Nothing else.”
“So us meeting, that wasn’t a setup from the start?”
“Lord no. I’m not smart enough to be that devious, and you know it. Plus, I’d never do something like that. I don’t care what it got me.”
Henry huffed out a breath and shook his head. “I thought I’d read you all wrong.”
“You didn’t. I promise. It was all real. Every minute of it. I’m so sorry that I let my insecurities get to me. I just had a moment where I wanted to fit in. I thought maybe then I’d be happy at work, but it was never going to happen. I haven’t fit in anywhere except with you since I moved to this city. I don’t even want to. I just want to be with you.”
“Wait, you brought me to that party to impress your coworkers?”
“I just wanted them to think I was a team player. They found out that I knew you.” Tristan blushed, hot and embarrassed. “Okay, I told them that I knew you. But only a few days before the party. Other than that, it was all me. All me falling really hard for you. I wish I could rewind time and never agree to dragging you there like a show pony.”
“S-so what you told me was real?”
“Yes. Yes. Oh my God. I could never say that if I didn’t mean it with fucking everything I’ve got. Yes. I—”
Henry held up his hand. “Not quite ready for that.”
“Okay.” It hurt. He wasn’t going to lie. But at least he was getting to talk. That was more than he’d had that morning when he woke up. There was a chance.
“Setting that party up without telling me was a dick move, Tris. I wish you hadn’t done it. You know how I feel about my dad and that part of my life.”
“I know. I wish I hadn’t done it too. I don’t know how many times I can say that. I’ll say it again and again if you’ll let me.”
“Hey, at least it got you some cred at work, right? You got the meeting.” Ouch. Too soon to joke about that.
“Actually, I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Tristan shrugged. “I threw it away. I didn’t want any part of that tainting us. Even if I didn’t get a chance to ever talk to you again, even if you still never forgive me, I couldn’t sit in a meeting room with your dad’s people and try to sell our relationship for a leg up in the business. I didn’t want anyone else to do it either.”
“Damn. Come here.” Henry held out his arms, rueful smile on his face.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. Before I change my mind you, you… wanker.”
Tristan giggled and stepped into Henry’s arms. He wrapped his own arms around the lightly muscled body he’d come to think of as his. Tristan breathed in Henry’s smell. It made his whole body shiver and come to rights. Yes. That’s how it should be. I love you. Even if Henry wasn’t ready to hear it aloud again, Tristan could think it as much as he wanted. Henry tugged him down for a kiss, a familiar, deep, so-perfect-it-felt-like-he-couldn’t-possibly-be-living-it-again kiss. He decided he’d do whatever he could to hold on to Henry’s kisses for the rest of his life.
“I still can’t believe you just gave the meeting away,” Henry finally said when they drew apart. “It would’ve been a huge move for your career.”
“Ex.”
“What?”
“Ex-career. Yeah, so, um, I might have a small problem.”
Henry looked up at Tristan from underneath those huge, fringy lashes. His lips were still wet with kisses, and Tristan wanted more. He wanted to kiss and kiss and fall into bed, fall into each other, and above all, Tristan wanted to never wake up from the dream where Henry wanted him again.
“What’s that? I thought we just got rid of the problems.”
“Well, I’ve just quit my job. I’m in the US on a work visa, hence I need to, you now. Work.”
“Is that it?” Henry nuzzled his face into the crook of Tristan’s neck. He shivered and nearly lost all trains of thought bound in every direction from his fuzzy brain.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I think that problem is solved.”
“Really?” Tristan smiled at Henry. “How so?”
“I just happen to know of a place that’s hiring.”
Ingredients
1 quirky independent baker
1 shy but sarcastic Brit
Combine slowly and let the mixture simmer on low heat until it comes together. You might have to be a little patient, but the results will be worth it. We promise!
About the Authors
M.J. O’SHEA grew up and still lives in sunny Washington state, and while she loves to visit other places, she can’t imagine calling anywhere else home. M.J. spent her childhood writing stories. Sometime in her early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those stories were about her, her friends, and their favorite cute TV stars. She hopes she’s come a long way since then…
When M.J.’s not writing, she loves to play the piano and cook and paint pictures, and, of course, read. She likes sparkly girly girl things, owns at least twenty different colored headbands, and she has two dogs who sit with her when she writes. Sometimes her dog comes up with the best ideas for stories… when she’s not busy napping.
Visit M.J. at http://mjoshea.com. E-mail her at mjosheaseattle@ gmail.com or follow her on Twitter.
ANNA MARTIN is from a picturesque seaside village in the south-west of England and now lives in the slightly arty, slightly quirky city of Bristol. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English Literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.
Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, Anna is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theatre (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), going to visit friends in other countries, baking weird and wonderful sweets, learning to play the ukulele, and Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk.
Anna claims her entire career is due to the love, support, prereading, and creative ass kicking provided by her best friend Jennifer. Jennifer refuses to accept responsibility for anything Anna has written.
Website: http://annamartin-fiction.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/missannamartin
Tumblr: http://annamartinwrites.tumblr.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annamartinfiction
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5251288.Anna_Martin
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