It was kind of nice to sit together and share their meals, even if Tristan didn’t talk much. In their time together, they hadn’t really progressed beyond “Do we need more toilet paper?” and “Where’s the laundry detergent?” He knew Tristan was never going to be the one to start a conversation. If Sean wanted to delve deeper, it would be up to him to make the first move.
“How did you get into all this healthy stuff?” It was early in the morning, and he had an interview later that afternoon at a big-chain coffee shop that had opened downtown. Not exactly what he liked, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He needed money because while now he was in the hole to his sister for only half the maintenance and utilities, once Tristan found a place and left, he’d be responsible for the whole thing. His insurance check had come in, and it was laughable to think he could survive in New York City on that pitiful amount.
“Mostly because of my high school football coach. He was pretty strict—no partying late, no alcohol or cigarettes, and he’d give us a diet of the right foods to eat to maximize performance. Carbs before games for energy, but always lots of protein and vegetables to keep us lean.” He poured his drink into a tall glass he’d bought special for his juices.
“Makes sense. But green juice?” He eyed it suspiciously. “I don’t know, man. It was pretty good, but I don’t think I could drink it every day.” He propped his chin in his hand. “Plus, that shit’s expensive. I spent my youth on ramen, tuna casseroles, and mac and cheese. Anything to fill us up for cheap.”
Tristan stared into space. “I hear you. To this day, the sight and smell of mushroom soup and tuna turns my stomach.”
Aware that Tristan had revealed something he hadn’t meant to, Sean met the quick flick of his eyes but said nothing. Instead, he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed noisily, hoping Tristan would think he hadn’t paid attention to his words, but his thoughts spun like crazy. That tiny slipup revealed so much—that Tristan had grown up poor, and it had shaped him.
Sensing Tristan’s withdrawal, Sean raced to divert the conversation from the downward slide so they could continue talking.
“Sooo, football, huh? What were you, the quarterback?” Probably. Sean could see all the cheerleaders flirting with him and Tristan being the most popular kid in school.
“No, tight end.”
Sean froze, a joke on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t know Tristan like that. “Oh, I, uh, don’t really know football that well. I played a little basketball in high school.”
Probably relieved Sean hadn’t questioned him further, Tristan relaxed and smirked. “You did? Were you the shortest guy on the team?”
“Ha-ha. I sure as hell wasn’t the tallest, but what I lacked in height, I made up for in speed. Plus, I was a damn good point guard. I made over eighty percent of my outside shots.”
“Yeah?”
That amused green gaze raked over him, piercing right through to his marrow, and Sean tingled. He lifted his chin, and feeling reckless, decided to hell with it. “Yeah. Is that a challenge? There’s a court about three blocks from here. Feel like a little one-on-one before the sun gets too high in the sky, or do you have someplace you need to be?”
A slight grin tipped up the corner of Tristan’s generous lips. “No. I don’t. Challenge accepted.”
The tingle turned into full-blown excitement. “Then let’s go. There’s a ball in the closet.”
An hour later, they were tied, and though Sean was dripping with sweat and his muscles ached, he’d never felt more alive. Tristan gave him no slack, and they battled up and down the court.
“I thought…you said…you were a football player,” he gasped, jumping high to try and block Tristan.
“I was,” he grunted and cursed. “And you weren’t kidding. You are fast.” Tristan dribbled for a bit, then made a move to the right. Sean sensed a fake and faded to the left, and as he’d suspected, Tristan moved with him but at a speed Sean hadn’t anticipated. Centrifugal force made it impossible for Tristan to stop his forward motion in time to prevent his elbow from slamming into Sean’s face, and he flew a foot or so before landing on the hard pavement.
Stars burst in front of his eyes, and his head spun. His face on fire, Sean lay on the ground and closed his eyes, hoping he didn’t get sick to his stomach.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
A shadow blocked out the sun, and he forced himself to look at Tristan, who crouched beside him, gazing at him with anxious, worried eyes.
“I-I think so.”
“Let me help you up.” Tristan cupped his elbow and gently guided him to sit first. “Can you stand?”
Nodding proved a little too painful at the moment, but he managed a halfway decent smile. “Yeah.”
“Hold on to me.”
Tristan slid a strong arm around his waist, and with slow steps, led them out of the basketball court and to a bench in the park under the shade of tall, leafy trees.
Still a little shaky, Sean leaned on Tristan and couldn’t help but drag in his scent of sweat and soap. It was a heady concoction, and when the two of them sat, he leaned into Tristan’s shoulder.
“Thanks. Sorry. I should’ve watched out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I should’ve been more careful.” The tips of Tristan’s fingers skimmed over his cheekbone. “Does it hurt bad? Do you want to go to the emergency room and have it checked out?”
