Page 83 of A Teaspoon of Desire

“Well, maybe.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I know we haven’t talked about it much, but... want to live together?”

It took Henry a second to realize he’d heard right. “You’re serious?” He hadn’t wanted to push that at all, even after they’d gotten back. But if Tristan was going to open the door... “You want to live with me?”

“We already practically live together most nights of the week anyway. We would just be picking one place to stay instead of swapping back and forth. And now that Lucia’s back out on her own two feet, I feel like I can move if we’d rather live at your place. Or have you move in with me. Or find a new place altogether. Please say something so I’ll stop talking.”

Henry chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tristan. He kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his full lips. Tristan still tasted of vanilla from work. “We’ll work out the details tonight, okay? But yes. Let’s live together. Somewhere. Anywhere.”

Tristan nuzzled his head against Henry’s shoulder. “Thank you. I was worried this might go horribly wrong.”

“Nothing between the two of us is horribly wrong.”

Tristan pulled back and nodded. “I have one more surprise for you.” Slowly, he removed his jacket.

It took Henry a moment to realize what the big deal was. Then it rolled over him like a tidal wave. “Short sleeves.”

“I set aside enough for some new shirts too.” Tristan smiled. “Mom’s dead, God rest her soul, Lucia’s getting past our childhood shit... me covering up is the last bit of influence my dad had on our lives. So fuck it.” He turned his arms side to side, showing off the scars, and the faded tattoo, and his wonderful, ripply muscles. “Besides, I think they make me look all manly and sexy and shit.”

“I woulddefinitelyagree.” Henry walked up and rubbed his hands from Tristan’s shoulders, down his arms, and grasped his fingers. “I love you, and I’m so fucking proud of you. I can’t wait to pick out our first coffee table. But Athena’s going to dip my face in molten sugar if I don’t get back in there and help her.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Tristan pecked him on the lips, then lifted the ice cream maker back into the trunk. “Tonight. Your place. Lucia’s still invited?”

“Hell yes, Lucia’s still invited. Karen, too, if she wants to come. Hell, you could invite Carlita for all I care. I’ve got Carrie and my crew coming, so you should have a little better representation.”

Tristan smiled. “I might just do that. She’s a nag at work, but she’s a hoot and a half if you get a couple beers down her.”

“Okay, but you bring the beer. I couldn’t risk being seen buying that shit, they’d revoke my gay card.”

“Wouldn’t want you to stop being gay.” Tristan slapped his ass. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Henry waved as he pulled away from the curb, then stepped back inside and pushed his way through. “Sorry, Athena. Duty called. There’s some good chicken cordon bleu in my office, but only take half, please.”

As he took over serving customers, his mind wandered. There was so much light ahead, so many moments he’d imagined and could finally make. Christening the sofa in their first shared house. Insomnia-fueled baking sessions. Waking up pressed to Tristan’s sepia skin every morning. Kissing him goodbye with coffee fresh on his breath.

The show had brought in these new customers, would bring in even more. But none of them mattered.

The show had brought him Tristan, and no other prize could compare.