Tristan had to trust Colby, and he had to trust himself. They were mates, yeah, but that didn’t make them halves of a whole. It made them two wholes, choosing to be together.
Colby stepped into the kitchen, hair tousled, cheeks pink from the cold, looking—fuck—looking so good. Best of all, he lookedhappy.Tristan’s heart gave a ridiculous little flutter.
“You’re back,” he said with a smile.
Colby nodded. “Pretty sure Karl didn’t sign up for babysitting, so he dropped me off after one loop.”
“I saved you dinner.” Tristan took a covered dish off the warming plate and gave it to him, like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t hovered and checked it three times to make sure it would still be warm.
The surprise in Colby’s face made Tristan want to hit something—preferably Nico. A small kindness like this should never seem out of the ordinary, especially when Colby had missed dinner because he was working for the pack.
Colby glanced at the plate again, like he wasn’t sure it was for him. “Impressed you kept it from Jesse,” he said, washing his hands.
He joined Tristan at the table, breathing in the scent of herb-basted chicken and garlic potatoes as he lifted the cover off the plate. When he took his first bite, he closed his eyes for a moment and chewed with something that looked close to reverence. Tristan leaned his chin on his hand, watching him.
“You’re staring,” Colby said without looking up, his ears definitely pinker than they had been a second ago.
“I like watching you,” Tristan said simply. “You look like you’re enjoying this.”
Colby shrugged, but the corners of his mouth curled up. “It’s good.”
“It’s not just the food, though,” Tristan said, quiet now. “It’s seeing you here, at this table, like you belong.”
Colby’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. He didn’t say anything at first—just looked at Tristan like he was trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he set the fork down.
“I wish I did,” he said, low and serious.
Tristan reached across the table, palm up, and Colby took his hand without hesitation. His fingers were still chilly from the night air, but they fit perfectly in Tristan’s.
“You will,” Tristan promised. Because while he might have lost his naïve belief the pack would love Colby almost immediately, he knew they were all decent men, and they’d come to realize he was too. There would be a place for him here, if everyone kept working at it. And if Matt agreed. And if Colbywantedto stay beyond the time Matt thought was necessary.
Colby’s thumb brushed over Tristan’s knuckles. “You were waiting for me?” he asked softly.
Shaking himself from the thoughts that had turned slightly uncertain, Tristan smiled. This, he knew for sure. “I’m always gonna wait for you.”
That seemed to undo something in Colby—his eyes softened, his shoulders dropped another inch, and when he stood, he didn’t let go of Tristan’s hand. “Come to bed?”
The words weren’t urgent or heavy with implication. They sounded hopeful.
Tristan rose to his feet, still holding his hand. “Yeah,” he said. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
Then he paused, knowing he was about to interrupt a romantic moment but unable to stop himself from worrying that Colby was going to go hungry. “You haven’t finished your dinner.”
For the first time, Colby didn’t look uncertain when faced with a decision. “Fuck dinner,” he murmured, moving close against Tristan and looking into his eyes.
“Yeah, okay,” Tristan got out breathlessly. Because the intent in Colby’s eyes, the way his pupils were beginning to swallow his irises—he didn’t even know what he was agreeing to, just that he was finding it hard to breathe and heneededColby, pressed against him naked.
They left the plate on the table, forgotten.
When they reached Tristan’s room, Colby paused just inside the doorway like he needed to take a breath.
Tristan didn’t rush him. Now they were private, the edge of urgency had softened. He intended to draw this out, to savor every moment he had like this with Colby.
“I don’t want to be careful tonight,” Colby said suddenly. His voice was low, rough, but steady. “Not... not like there’s something wrong with me.”
Tristan’s chest tightened. “Okay,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
He stepped forward, crowding into Colby’s space slowly. Not uncertain and no more careful than he’d be with anyone else, but still giving him time to say stop if he changed his mind. But all Colby did was tip his head slightly, eyes steady, lips parted.
