Hoping his hands didn’t shake, Sean began to stack the bills in groups of ten. When he reached fifteen, even he was surprised. The final count was $217.
Tristan whistled. “Damn, that’s great for one day, especially your first. You could make a thousand a week from this. No overhead or anything. As long as you’re careful, I guess you were right.”
Preening under Tristan’s praise, Sean picked up the cash. “Yeah, I am. And the good thing was I really enjoyed doing it, even though I’m tired as hell from standing for so many hours. I even sang kids’ songs, and that’s what brought me the biggest audience.”
“Huh. Interesting. Well, good for you.”
Again, silence fell between them, and sensing Tristan’s withdrawal, Sean searched for something else to talk about to keep him engaged. “How did the apartment hunt go?”
Tristan’s generous lips pulled down in a frown. “Not well. At all. Whatever they show me is a shithole. I thought I’d be able to find a halfway decent place, but their idea of a one-bedroom is about five hundred square feet. I’m too big for that.”
And don’t I know it.
“Anything I’m interested in is touching close to a million, which is fucking ridiculous.” He grimaced. “Ray was lucky he got this place when he did.”
“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” Sean plopped himself on a stool and propped his chin in his hand. “I don’t know where I’d be if they didn’t offer me this place. I hate having to rely on Charlotte to bail me out, but I have no idea when I’ll be able to move into my own apartment. It’s just so hard, losing it all, you know?” He ducked his head. “Been there, done that enough times already.”
He thought he’d spoken under his breath, but apparently not. Sean’s gut clenched when Tristan’s sympathetic eyes met his.
“I understand.”
Shifting closer to the island, Tristan clasped his hands together, and Sean wondered what those long fingers would feel like against his skin. He’d only had a few conscious moments after waking to appreciate Tristan. Sean forced himself to stop thinking about the two of them rolling around in bed together and concentrated on Tristan’s face.
Tristan’s piercing gaze held his for a second before giving a sharp nod. “So what’re you going to do to celebrate?” A glint appeared in his eyes along the wink of a dimple on his cheek. “Hopefully, not go to The Dark Horse. I doubt your liver could handle it.”
“Whoa, hold up.” Sean put a hand to his ear. “Was that cracking sound hell freezing over at Tristan making a joke? Who knew you had a sense of humor?”
They shared a laugh, and Sean realized he was going to miss Tristan like crazy when he left. Since he didn’t want to think about it, he decided to change the subject entirely.
“Well, I have a question about last night.” Sean pulled out the chicken from the bag and opened the box. “First of all, do you want a piece?”
“No, thanks. I had a whole pint of ice cream yesterday, so it’s a protein shake and an egg-white omelet for dinner tonight for me.”
“Sounds delicious.Not,” Sean murmured and shuddered.
“You’re younger than me and obviously have a very active metabolism. I can’t eat the way I did at your age.”
“My age. I’m thirty-two, not twenty. I used to be able to dance the night away, but not so much anymore. By the way, were you at The Dark Horse last night?”
A flush rose to Tristan’s cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I stopped by for a minute.”
“Damn, Kressley wasn’t shitting me. He said, ‘Your uptight cop friend was here.’ I had no idea what he was talking about.”
There was a definite tightening of Tristan’s jaw. “I told you I’m not a cop. Not anymore.”
“But you’ll admit you’re uptight.”
Not answering, Tristan opened the refrigerator and took out leafy stuff as well as three eggs and shredded cheese. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No,” he said in that maddeningly controlled way Sean had begun to recognize. Sean thrived on emotions, and Tristan’s cool and calm demeanor made him want to stir the pot. “I like to have all my wits about me. I won’t ever get to a place where I lose my composure.”
He studied Tristan’s fluid, sure movements, from the way he rinsed and chopped the vegetables to cracking and whipping the eggs. No wasted motions. Everything Tristan did had a purpose. Sean wondered if he’d be a methodical lover as well.
The cooked eggs smelled good, and his stomach growled. Sean grabbed a chicken leg and gnawed at it while Tristan made one of those green shakes of his, and soon they sat across from each other with their food. But he wasn’t about to let Tristan weasel out of answering his questions. He was way too curious.
“I swear having a conversation with you is like wrangling cats. Meaning, it’s impossible.” Sean’s grumbling caused the unthinkable—an actual belly laugh from Tristan. And the sight was a beautiful one. Lines fanned out from his twinkling eyes, and his lips curved up high, highlighting twin dimples in his cheeks. “Why did you come to the bar and not talk to me? Are you worried that people might think you’re gay?”
