“Iwanted everything to be back to normal.” Bryce’s voice was rough. “Every time I closed my eyes, I was back listening to you being taken when I couldn’t do a damn thingto stop it. And by the time I got to the diner, there was nothing there. Nothing except your phone lying on the asphalt.”
His voice broke on the last few words, and Tristan froze. He’d thought now he was safely home again, everyone else would have just moved on. That he was the only one struggling with any fallout.
“I was scared, Tris.” Bryce’s attention was back on the engine, knuckles white as he clenched the rag he held. “FuckingterrifiedI’d lost you. And when you did come back, it felt like I’d lost you in a different way.”
“You haven’t.” It spilled out of Tristan immediately. He wanted to go to him, but Bryce was messing with the dipstick, a clear signal that he was fine, that this wasn’t a big deal. Though the rigidity in his body said something else.
He watched Bryce’s hands, strong and capable, working on his car. Looking after Tristan the way he always did, years of unstintingcare and protection. It set something tender and aching loose in Tristan. Bryce had gotten things wrong, but everything he said and did was from love. Tristan had thought he was checking up on him and Colby, when Bryce had intended it as checkingin. Still didn’t mean Bryce had been right, but maybe that wasn’t the most important thing.
“I hated not talking to you,” he said.
Bryce’s voice was thick when he said, “Yeah. Me too.”
Tristan swallowed hard. “Back when they had me, the one thing I held on to was knowing you’d come for me.”
“Always,” Bryce said. Instant and absolute, just like his love for Tristan.
“I never told you what that meant,” Tristan added softly. “Whatyoumean to me.”
Bryce’s throat worked. “Didn’t need to.”
“Maybe not,” Tristan said. “But I should’ve said it anyway.”
Bryce blinked hard. “As for the feeling safe part of it,” he said, “let me know what I can do, and I’ll do it in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have to be scared.”
Tristan wasn’t sure what would help. Maybe the first step was being brave enough to leave the safety he’d been sheltering in these last few days.
“I’m going back to school on Monday,” he said, and his words sounded definite and casual. Now all he needed was tofeelthat way about it. “And maybe my first time back on patrol, I could go with you?”
“Of course. You let me know when you’re ready.”
Tristan nodded, and steered the conversation swiftly away from the dangerous waters of emotions. “So, does that mean you’re finally gonna help me replace the serpentine belt, or do I have to keep pretending I know what it does?”
Bryce snorted. “I’d pay money to see you try.”
Things felt right again between them, but he knew they weren’t all the way there. Because neither of them had mentioned Colby, and if Bryce had changed his mind about him, he’d have told Tristan so.
Tristan was beginning to understand that loving his mate might not always line up cleanly with loving his pack. That balance wasn’t going to come easy, and it might not be what he hoped for. But it was his to figure out.
COLBY
Goats safely locked away, with only a few nibbles and butts to show for it, Colby waited for Tristan in his bedroom. It felt safer than sitting in the exposed kitchen, where anyone might walk in and wonder what the hell he was doing in the heart of pack territory.
Tristan burst through the door, and the smile on his face was blinding.
“Okay?” Colby asked.
Tristan beamed at him. “Getting there,” he said. “D’you want to watch a movie tonight?”
Colby froze. He’d been quietly happy, if nervous, about Karl’s invitation, but he hadn’t thought through what it would mean. Tristan was expecting his company, and now Colby didn’t know what to do.
“I—uh,” he stumbled, and Tristan’s smile slid from his face.
“Hey,” he said, sitting down beside Colby on the bed. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“Karl asked me to patrol with him later, and I didn’t think—I said yes,” Colby confessed miserably.
“Hedid? That’sawesome,”Tristan said, then paused. “Or is it? What’s the problem?”
