He filled the soft tortilla with meat and vegetables, rolled it up, and took a bite. “I know, but Tristan is different. He never gets phone calls or talks to anyone. He’s all alone.” Sean chewed, staring off into the distance. “It’s kind of sad.”
“Hmm.” Charlotte ate a few bites, then set her fork on the plate. “I asked Ray about him, and he didn’t know much more than what you said. I can’t even understand how devastating losing his partner must’ve been.”
“Yeah. He definitely isn’t interested in talking about it. Or most anything.” Ever since the argument they had after the pickup game at the park, Sean had tried to keep away from the apartment as much as possible. He’d walk what felt like the length and breadth of the city, looking for work and filling out applications where he could. At night, he was so damn tired from wandering, he’d nod off on the couch while Tristan was watching some sports thing on the television. “He and his partner were attempting to arrest a child pornographer when the guy opened fire on them. His partner was killed right in front of him.”
Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. I heard about that. Can’t blame him for not wanting to talk.” She gazed at him thoughtfully. “I’m surprised he told you.”
“Well, he made it perfectly clear he didn’t want me to bring the subject up. His partner had a little daughter. Tristan retired from the police force after that, and I guess he went to work for Ray’s company.”
Always empathetic, Charlotte brushed at her eyes. “It’s so sad.”
“But he and Ray are pretty friendly, right? I mean, they had to be for Ray to offer him the apartment to stay.”
“Kind of but not really. You know Ray—he’s got a big heart and always looks out for the underdog. What he told me is, every week or so the team would go out for drinks, and if Ray was there—both being native New Yorkers—they’d sit down for a drink. When Ray offered him the position in the city, Tristan confided he was having a hell of a hard time finding a place to live from across the ocean. Ray said Tristan was embarrassed he’d revealed as much as he did.”
“I can attest to that,” Sean said, finishing off the last of his fajitas. “He’s not interested in telling me anything except how much he wants to find his own place, so I’m sure once he’s gone, I’ll never hear from him again.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. You can be his friend. Why don’t you guys go hang out at a bar or something?”
“Uh…first of all, you haven’t met him. He’s not exactly the most approachable person. Plus, I go to gay bars. Who the hell knows what he’s into? Not me, that’s for sure.”
Charlotte drained her margarita, then smirked. “And you won’t if you don’t ask. Maybe he’s also gay.”
Sean choked on his beer. “Yeah, no. I’m pretty good at getting the vibe, and he’s not.” He glared at Charlotte, who sat with an infuriating know-it-all grin. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can forget about it.”
“What? What am I thinking?” Her innocent question didn’t fool him. Charlotte was as easy to read as a neon sign at midnight in Times Square.
“That Tristan and I will hook up. That’s not happening. We’re way too different.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of opposites attract?” She dug a chip into the salsa and crunched, still with a big fat cheesy grin on her face.
“Haven’t you ever heard ofnot on your fucking life? Tristan and I say hello and good night with maybe a little in between. We used to eat breakfast and dinner together, but that fizzled out. And I just told you, he’ll be leaving once he finds a place.”
“Mm. Is he looking?”
“I mean, he’s not telling me, but I’m sure he is. It’s not like he’s sitting around the apartment all day, and neither am I. Even though we switch out weeks, I can’t imagine he’s happy about having to sleep on the pull-out when it’s his turn. He’s a big guy, and it’s uncomfortable for me, so it must be awful for him.”
“I guess that’s more incentive for him to move.”
“Like I said, I wouldn’t know. We share the same space. That’s it.”
He wasn’t kidding, but lately he had picked up a few clues about his elusive roommate, the most important and depressing being that Sean suspected Tristan might’ve met someone. There were times Sean caught him smiling at something on his phone and texting, a sure sign. That more than anything was responsible for his snappish, lousy mood.
“Cheap rent is still cheap rent.” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled. “And if you really want to find out more about Tristan, I’m sure you can.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “All that has nothing to do with wanting me to hook up with the guy. Come on, Char. Even you can see how awkward it could be.”
“I know. I’m just teasing. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“Then stop talking about it. Let’s get the check.”
* * *
Sean opened the door to find Tristan in the corner of the sofa, a salad bowl in his lap. He was obviously fresh out of the shower, his hair wet. The earlier glimpses of Tristan’s torso didn’t do him justice. He was muscular perfection—tight, sinewy abs, a broad chest sprinkled with hair, firm biceps—and the big lion tattoo only added to Tristan’s overall hotness. Sean caught himself sighing and had to turn away before Tristan noticed and called him out on it. But damn, it should be illegal to be so fucking pretty.
Deciding to take Charlotte’s advice, Sean figured he’d try and dig up a little more info on how Tristan’s plans were working out. “How’s the apartment-hunting?”
Tristan pushed his damp hair out of his face, and Sean’s insides did a free fall. God, he loved that messy, bedhead look. So fucking sexy.
