by Z. Allora
“Very good. And a Diet Coke to drink?” Angelo should get bonus points for memorizing his drink of choice, but considering he never altered it, maybe not.
If Tristan had learned anything from the past few weeks, it was change invited discovery. Exploration meant he might find something he didn’t know he liked… or needed. He shook his head and took another gander at the menu. “May I have the Italian lemon fizz soda?”
Angelo nodded. “Yes, of course. And for you, sir?”
Pop-Pop stopped staring at Tristan, closed his mouth, and told Angelo, “I’m too old to change. I’ll have my usual.”
“Of course.” Angelo disappeared through the swinging doors.
Pop-Pop’s laser focus turned on Tristan. “Wow, you’re switching things up.”
“Someone taught me change isn’t a bad thing.” God, he missed Phillip. His outlook and approach to life made Tristan see vivid colors, and he didn’t want to go back to a world filled with gray. Even if he didn’t have Phillip….
“Phillip?”
Tristan nodded. “Yeah.”
Pop-Pop leaned forward. “Your frown tells me something’s wrong. What happened?”
Shrugging, Tristan sighed. “I moved too fast. I knew I shouldn’t have told him how I felt, but—”
“Sometimes people run not because they want to, but because they don’t want to.” Pop-Pop shook his head. “You appear to be grabbing the opportunities life is throwing in your direction… not everyone can.”
Not knowing how to handle the self-reproach in Pop-Pop’s tone, Tristan tried to play it off. “It was just a different lunch order.”
Pop-Pop shook his head. “No, it’s more. You dress differently, carry yourself taller, and yes, for the first time in five years, you ordered something new.”
Tristan had changed. For the first time, he allowed himself to want all the things he never thought he could have. Even though going for what he wanted meant he got punched in the teeth, and he might be completely knocked off his feet, there was no going back. His transformation couldn’t be undone. “Maybe I am different.”
“You love him?” Pop-Pop made the question more of a statement.
“With all my heart.” Though the admission made his heart burst with joy, a throbbing, painful need that would now go unmet followed, slicing through his happiness.
“Where are things between you two?” Angelo delivered Pop-Pop’s coffee and Tristan’s new lemony beverage. “Thank you, Angelo.”
Angelo nodded and slipped back into the kitchen.
Tristan took a sip. The soda wasn’t what he was expecting, but he’d give the tart lemon buzz a chance. “Phillip stopped answering my texts a few days ago. So my last one put the ball in his court.”
Pop-Pop sipped his coffee while he studied Tristan. “Give him some time. As big of an impact as he’s made on your life, I’d bet you made a much greater one on his.”
“Well, that will be easy, because at this point, there’s nothing else for me to do.” He sighed and took another sip. Ew! Tristan waved the waiter over. “May I have some water?”
“Of course, sir.” The waiter hustled to get the water pitcher.
Pop-Pop pointed at the lemon poison, grimacing. “Some changes don’t work out.”
“Hopefully, some do.” Tristan couldn’t help but hold out hope Phillip would reach out to him.
TWO MISERABLE days later, Phillip sorted the magazines on the glass tables in the waiting area of the salon, grouping them by category: fashion, gossip, and organization.
The words of his friends did follow him. He’d thought about calling Tristan, but to say what? He could—
“Phillip, you don’t have any other appointments, so you can leave if you want,” the Bossman said as he breezed through the salon with his significant other in tow. They were headed to the boss’s office and would probably be locking the door.
Just what he needed—more time not to be able to do what he wanted to do. The more time that passed—
“Or you could go talk to Tristan,” Monique pointed out.
His cell phone rang, saving Phillip from answering her. “Hello.”
Monique asked, “Is it Tristan? Tell him I said hi.”
He waved her quiet and moved toward the window of the salon, hoping for better reception. “Granddaddy? I can’t hear you.”
More static. Only “hospital” and “Tristan” got through.
Terror ripped through him. That can’t be right. “Tristan’s in the hospital?”
A scratchy yes came through, along with a string of cutoff, grumbled words.
“Albany Med?”
Another yes.
Monique threw him his keys. “Go. Drive safe!”
Phillip ran toward his bike. He forced himself to drive the speed limit. But fuck it if he didn’t hit every light from the salon to the hospital.
Each red light allowed the questions to turn into a vortex of panic. What happened to Tristan? Why didn’t he see him? He should have texted him back! Hell, he should have walked across the street. What if he could never see him again? What if…?
Oh dear God! Not another fucking red light! Get out of the way, jackass in the blue Honda. Learn to drive another time! Could that truck drive any fucking slower?
He parked his bike as close to the door as he legally could and tripped over the curb. A sapling caught his fall. He ran through the hospital door and to the information desk. “Tristan Cooper. What’s his status?”
The older man behind the desk shook his head. “I’m sorry. We don’t have a Tristan Cooper.”
“What? Yes, yes, I was told—”
“Phillip?” His granddaddy peered around the corner.
“How is he?”
Scrunching up his face, Granddaddy said, “Fine. He’s in the recovery. A bit ornery, but between me and Tristan—”
“Wait? Who’s in recovery?”
“Thomas tore his meniscus completely, and the pain was so bad they did his surgery immediately. He’s in recovery. Tristan’s with him.”
Phillip stumbled into a waiting-room chair. He took the hand he’d unconsciously slapped over his heart and grabbed the handle of the chair. The panic that had seized him eased. “I thought….”
“You thought it was Tristan?”
Nodding, Phillip couldn’t even speak.
His granddaddy touched his own chest. “I’m sorry to have worried you. The phone reception got impossible. I tried to call you back, but the doctor came out.”
Phillip released the breath he’d never fully let out since the phone call. “I thought he was in the hospital and I’d lost my chance, and….”
“Sometimes life gives us wake-up calls. Life is short, Phillip. Your grandmother always encourages us to find happiness and grab it with both hands. You need to do that.”
Phillip swallowed back all the horrific images he’d envisioned.
His granddaddy cleared his throat. “The question is, what will you do with your new perspective?”
The doors opened.
“Phillip?”
Phillip rushed to Tristan and pulled him into a hug. This was heaven. He’d been an idiot. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Over Phillip’s head, Tristan said, “Conrad, he’s being moved to his room soon, but the nurses asked if you’d go in with him.”
Granddaddy chuckled. “Ah, is Thomas causing more chaos among the nurses again?”
“Threatening them, mostly. I think you might be able to—”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got your grandfather.” His granddaddy marched through the doors with the confidence of a lion tamer.
“Can we talk?” Phillip squeezed Tristan one more time and released him.
“Of course. Let’s go outside. I could use some fresh air.”
He led Tristan to a bench away from the smokers clustered around the door. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.”
Tristan shrugged. “I freaked you out by telling you how I feel. Too soon
.”
Phillip didn’t want to give Tris the words that would hand over the ability to decimate him, but fuck the bad habit. “It’s how I think I feel too. I just—”
Tristan yanked him into a tight embrace. “Really? You don’t have to say that if you don’t mean it.”
Fuck fear. It was time for Phillip to go for what he wanted. “I know it’s crazy, but I do. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. I adore everything about you. When I’m not with you, I wish I was…. I’m falling in love with you—already in love with you, and it’s terrifying and scary, but… wonderful.”
Phillip tipped his head back and stretched up to find Tristan’s mouth. He tried to cram all his feelings into the kiss, and it felt searing, happy, and a bit sloppy.
Chapter 10
Three months later….
TRISTAN HANDED Phillip a glass of wine, hoping it might calm him or at least stop him from pacing. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Phillip took a gulp of the vino, marched back over to the front window, pushed aside the new curtains he’d picked out, and peered down the street.
“They’ll be here soon. Why don’t you come sit with me?” Tristan sat on the couch and patted the seat next to him.
Phillip sighed, fixed the curtain and then set his glass on the table. Instead of plopping on the couch, he straddled Tristan’s lap and parked himself there.
Tristan searched for something to say and decided on “It’s normal to be nervous.”
“I’m not.” Phillip groaned. “Fine. I guess I am. I just never had people over for a housewarming.”
“Well, this is the first time you moved in with someone.”
Phillip fussed with an unruly lock of Tristan’s hair and sighed. “I know I was a pain the first couple of weeks we started officially dating.”
Tristan had gotten good at reassuring Phillip through his worries about their relationship. Phillip seemed to frighten himself by the intensity of his own emotions and how close he’d get, and then he’d run away. Tristan learned that remaining steadfast and calm allowed Phillip to come back on his own.
Phillip had been staying with Tristan most nights. Finally, when he complained more of his clothing was in Tristan’s closet than his own, Tristan jokingly said he should just move in. Phillip agreed, and oddly enough, the merging of their lives seemed to settle him down, until tonight.
“You were getting used to us being a couple.” Tristan still couldn’t believe they were together. And unlike when Frederick had moved in, this felt right.
“I really like being a couple. This is something I never thought I’d have.” Phillip grabbed Tristan’s face between his hands and pressed his mouth to Tristan’s.
As soon as the kiss started to go somewhere, the doorbell rang.
Phillip groaned. “Well, I’m not nervous anymore, but I’m horny as hell. Maybe if we don’t answer they’ll go home.”
Tristan laughed and bit back a moan as Phillip’s back pocket buzzed right near his cock.
Wiggling more than he needed, Phillip pulled out his phone and showed Tristan the text Monique just sent.
Fuck later. Open door NOW!
Tristan adored Monique’s directness and her sense of humor. He caressed a hand over Phillip’s zipper. “Come on. I’ll take care of you the moment they leave.”
Phillip huffed and climbed off Tristan, making sure he was just as hard. Quirking his lips, he teasingly wiggled over to the door. He glanced over his shoulder and offered, “Last chance….”
Laughing, Tristan waved him off and joined him.
Chris, Monique, and both Tristan’s and Phillip’s grandfathers burst into the hallway. After a flurry of greetings and hanging up coats, Tristan herded the group into the dining room.
“Phillip prepared some veggies and dip and Parmesan chips and salsa, and made lavender lemonade.” Tristan was amazed at how much his lover enjoyed being domestic.
Monique gasped. “Well, be still my heart. Phillip cooked!”
“That’s not cooking, but the chocolate cake I made for dessert—”
“Holy hell, the boy has skills outside the bedroom. Who knew?” Monique muttered just loud enough for Tristan to hear.
Tristan opened his mouth, but Chris clapped him on the shoulder and proclaimed, “This man did.”
Chris was a great guy. Tristan enjoyed their discussions on city politics. He’d been trying to convince Chris important changes could happen at the local level and that he should run for something.
Monique accepted the glass Phillip handed her. “Hey, where’s your grandmother and Sylvia?”
Phillip poured another glass of lemonade and handed it to Tristan. “They’re coming home beginning of next month.”
Tristan smiled and kissed Phillip.
“I thought they’d be home sooner,” Monique whined.
“They did too, but Sylvia found a massage therapist to teach her advanced reiki,” Phillip’s grandfather supplied. He inspected the offerings by tasting each one. “Thomas, you must try this.”
“That good, Conrad? Let me have a bite.” Pop-Pop ambled over with a small limp and opened his mouth to allow Phillip’s grandfather to push a Parmesan chip with salsa into his mouth while he blotted the corner of Conrad’s mouth with a napkin.
Monique, Chris, and Phillip all glanced at Tristan and mouthed, “What the hell?” in unison. Tristan needed to bite his bottom lip to stop from laughing as he escaped to the kitchen. What did he know? He still hadn’t gotten a straight answer out of his grandfather as to the status of his relationship with Phillip’s grandfather. Though the way Conrad took care of his Pop-Pop, there was definitely something beyond friendship.
Tristan checked the roast, and then as he shut the oven, Phillip wrapped his arms around his waist and asked, “Anything I can do?”
“No, I’ve got—”
“I was offering a blowjob or a fuck or—”
“I know. I was going to say I’ve got the cooking under control, but I’ve got a list for later.” Tristan enjoyed the moment. He’d been working on shocking Phillip with his comebacks. He could keep up in any other arena, but he still needed to work on his sexual banter. Score!
Phillip sputtered, “Um….” Then he grinned.
Tristan grabbed Phillip’s ass and whispered, “A long… list. Hope it’s not too… hard.”
“I hope it is. Really hard and—”
Monique peered in. “Checking the rump roast, Tris?”
Echoes of grandfatherly laughter made Tristan’s cheeks heat. He released Phillip’s perfect butt but not before a nice squeeze and a pat. “It’s perfect.”
Phillip growled and then said for Tristan’s ears only, “My list just got longer.” He kissed Tristan’s cheek, then made his way back to the dining room and asked Chris and the grandfather twosome, “Who wants to see the vanity we refinished?”
Monique smiled at Tristan as they stood in the kitchen. “Anything I can do?”
“Nah, everything’s under control.”
“Including Phillip. We’ve never seen him so happy.”
Explosions of happiness went off in the region of Tristan’s heart. “I hope he is.”
Monique’s focused attention made Tristan recheck the twice-baked potatoes.
“Are you?”
After shutting the oven, he turned to her. “Very.” Tristan went to the cookie tray he’d put in the microwave to save plastic wrap. He snatched a mini cookie and handed the pink-frosted sugar treat to Monique.
“I really like you a lot, and it’s not even about these delightful cookie bribes.” She ate her cookie in one bite. “But they do help.”
Tristan put the cooked dishes into serving plates and bowls and put them on the brass-and-glass teacart. He and Phillip had found the scrolling brass serving cart at an antique market. It was the first time they’d had a chance to use it, and so far, it sure beat running back and forth into the kitchen.
Phillip and their grandfathers were in a deep discussion
about vanity tops.
Chris, who was the most knowledgeable on the subject, popped into the kitchen and grinned at Tristan. “You two did a great job on the vanity. Anything I can do to help?”
“Thanks and no.” Tristan cleared his throat and wheeled the filled cart into the dining room. “Dinner is served.”
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons played softly in the background.
Chris pointed out the bright and boldly colored dining room curtains, which matched the living room’s. “Both your styles seem to merge well together.”
Tristan caressed the back of Phillip’s hand. “He brought color into my world.”
“And you brought love into mine,” Phillip said with such sincerity that not even Tristan’s low self-esteem could make him misinterpret. Though having a gorgeous man drool over him had bolstered his ego.
Monique made a slow gagging sound.
“May I get you some water, my dear?” Tristan’s grandfather asked.
Phillip glared at her. “No, but some duct tape might be nice.”
She stuck out her tongue at him, then asked, “I know it’s six months from now, but are you still going to the Red Party?”
The Red Party was the Capital District’s hottest weekend gathering of the year. The cost per ticket kept the event exclusive. It wasn’t a surprise Phillip would be among the attendees. The Red Party was the venue for rainbow A-listers in the tristate area.
Rumor had it that the party evolved into an orgy. Funny how Tristan no longer saw a sex party as devolving.
“I’ve only got one ticket,” Phillip mumbled as if he’d just realized it.
“You should definitely go.” Tristan would be a good sport.
Phillip’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you wouldn’t mind?”
Monique pushed his jaw shut.
Tristan shook his head and was rewarded with a Phillip in his lap. “You’re the best.”
Six months later….
TRISTAN WAS surprised to see Phillip standing outside the library’s front door. “I thought you’d go straight home to get ready for your big party.”
