Tristan sits up as I walk into the room. “Good morning.” His smile isthere you are, it’sI’m glad to see youand suddenly I can breathe again.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Careful not to spill the drinks, I lower the tray onto the middle of the bed.
Eyes wide, Tristan stares at my offering in silence.
My pulse kicks into overdrive. He hates it. “It’s fine if you’re not hungry yet.” I reach down to take it away again. “I can always—”
“I want it,” he says, his hands closing over mine. “Only a crazy man would turn down your food. It’s just… No one’s ever brought me breakfast in bed before.” Lifting one of my hands, he kisses the centre of my palm. “Thank you.”
My fingers curl around the spot he kissed. “You’re welcome.” Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I hand him his coffee.
He takes a long sip before sighing in pleasure. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight.”
“Seriously?” When I nod, he shakes his head with a small laugh. “I don’t know what magic you do, but I’m grateful for it.” We dig into the food and Tristan takes a generous bite before moaning his approval. “Delicious.”
“I do make a mean omelette,” I say after swallowing a mouthful. “If I do say so myself.”
He grins. “Damned right, you do.”
The rest of the food disappears quickly, and we pile the dishes back onto the tray before pushing it to the end of the bed.
“You’ve really never had breakfast in bed before?” I ask as we curl up against the pillows with mugs in hand. “Because if so, I’m deeply appalled by all your previous boyfriends.” I’m on the verge of laughing at my own joke when I realise what I’ve said. “Not that I’m referring to myself as your boyfriend. I just mean, someone should have—”
Tristan shuts me up with a kiss. Thank God.
When he pulls away, his expression is warm with amusement. “You’re adorable when you stumble all over your words.”
“Oh,” I manage, wishing we could go back to the kissing part. “In that case, I’m adorable very, very often.”
He tilts his head. “You don’t do it so often.”
“Less with you,” I admit. “I guess you have a kind of magic all your own.”
Finishing his coffee, he puts the cup down and takes my free hand in both of his. “I have eaten breakfast in bed, lots of times. But only with one person and I always made the delivery.”
“Why?” I ask, curiously.
There’s a long pause as he strokes his thumb across my palm. “He didn’t sleep well.”
The problem inherent in his statement renders me silent.
Looking up, Tristan meets my gaze. “Walter was worse than me.”
He’s not just talking about sleep. He’s talking about those things that lie behind the poor sleep. Trauma. Pain. The sadness in Tristan’s eyes tells me he wanted to take care of this person who suffered so much. I know exactly how he felt.
“Walter was your only serious relationship?”
Tristan nods once. “What about you? Have you had many boyfriends?”
“A few, but my relationships have been short-lived.” The rawness in Tristan’s voice when he talked about his ex-boyfriend puts the feelings I’ve had for other men to shame. I’ve never loved anyone like that. No one’s ever loved me like that. “I’m not the easiest guy in the world to put up with.”
Tristan’s eyebrows lift. “Put up with? That’s harsh.”
“Maybe, but it’s also honest.” I’m not trying to be down on myself, but this is the reality I live with and there’s no point in denying it. “I’d rather be home than out. I get uptight about going new places and doing new things. Ihatemeeting new people, especially if they’re important to the person I’m with. Because, what if they don’t like me? Or they think I’m weird? And they always end up thinking I’m weird. Because I am weird.” Am I trying to warn him off or hoping he’ll tell me those things don’t matter? Either way, I’ve been dumped on my derriere enough times to know that yes, actually, those things do matter. “I suppose I haven’t found anyone who considers me worth the effort it takes to be with me,” I add with a shrug. “Which doesn’t mean I won’t, just that I haven’t yet.”
His fingers tighten around mine and I hope he isn’t about to rush in with reassurances because it will only annoy me. I’ve heard them before. They’re never true for long.
