“You’ll be okay,” Colby said, because the tension in Tristan was unmistakable.
Tristan nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Then his lips twisted. “Kinda feel like a jerk saying this toyou, but I don’t—it’s the first time I’ve left the ranch since it happened.”
“I get it,” Colby said. He didn’t offer a well-meaning platitude about it getting easier because he knew they weren’t always true. “One foot in front of the other. And if you needto come home early, that’s not failure.” He wasn’t sure he believed it, but he hoped Tristan would.
Tristan kissed him again, then stood up. “Yeah,” he said, sounding like he was holding onto that hope.
He lingered a moment longer, thumb brushing lightly along Colby’s jaw. “I hate that I won’t be able to text you,” he admitted. “We need to get you a phone.”
Colby blinked. The idea felt strange. Another piece of normal he hadn’t realized he was missing. A phone meant someone might check in, just to say hi or tell a joke, or send a photo of a goat stuck in something it shouldn’t be. It meant no longer being isolated.
“So that you can text me about thermodynamics?” Colby asked, aiming for dry but falling a little short in his excitement at the prospect of change, of something that washis.
Tristan’s eyes sparkled. “You haveno ideahow many things I’m going to want to share with you during the day. Also, the second law is bullshit.”
“Pretty sure you’re not allowed to say that in engineering school.”
“Sue me.” Tristan kissed him one more time, quick and warm, and Colby let himself lean into it.
* * *
When Colby finally dragged himself out of bed, the room smelled like Tristan—clean cotton and citrus soap—and that helped, made him feel less alone. Still, the quiet of the house seemedtooquiet for a minute. He paused, listening, and the fact there was nothing to hear somehow didn’t reassure him.
Annoyed with himself for being scared of shadows—shadows were fine; it was what hid in them that wasn’t—he took a quick shower. Without Tristan’s presence, there werelandmines everywhere. When he reached for the bodywash, it took a while before he could make himself wash behind his ears. Nico had always checked there, like it proved something.
He didn’t want to do it. Not now, when he didn’thaveto. But he did it anyway, because he wanted to be clean.
He made himself towel off before climbing into his borrowed clothes. He washere, not there. And that was easier to remember when he walked into the kitchen and found a sticky note on the counter readingDon’t let Chaos talk you into anything.Back this afternoon.T xxx.
A smile tugged at his mouth—but then something prickled at the edge of his awareness. Like a sound he couldn’t quite hear, or a scent he couldn’t capture. Gone before he could chase it. He shook himself once, hard, and pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum, where something deep in his chest wouldn’t settle.
He didn’t see much of the pack that morning, except Riley, who offered a quiet greeting on his way through the kitchen with a stack of books, and Dave, who passed him a pair of work gloves and nodded toward the outbuilding they’d started clearing out the day before.
“We’ve got other stuff to do right now, but if you can get more of this done, that’d be good.”
Colby and Tristan had been drafted the previous day, working alongside Christian and Dave. Christian had ignored Colby the entire time, but at least he hadn’t been actively hostile.
“It’s for Karl,” Tristan had informed Colby when they took a break for a drink. “He and Christian are renovating the place so he can move out of the bunkhouse he shares with Jason and Riley and finally get some sleep.”
Colby raised his eyebrows inquiringly as he took another long, welcome swig from the water bottle.
Tristan leaned in to him, eyes dancing with mischief. “Apparently, Jason is really,reallyloud, and Karl doesn’t have the heart to tell him to keep it down because Jason would be so mortified, he’d probably never have sex again.” Tristan took a drink from his own bottle. “He’s kind of a softie.”
“Karlis?” Big, dark, dangerous Karl, who looked like he knew thirty-seven ways to kill a man with a toothpick? And then Colby thought of the way he’d quietly kept taking Colby on patrol, teaching him the territory, teaching him the pack’s ways, and yeah—Karl was, if not a softie, generous and kind.
Clearing out years of accumulated junk from the outbuilding was oddly satisfying. Colby hadn’t realized how much time had passed when the sound of footsteps brought him to the door.
Jesse stood there, a sandwich on a plate in one hand and a water bottle in the other.
Colby hadn’t seen much of Jesse since the pack had gone to Cale’s compound. When hehadbeen around, he’d been quiet and pale.
“Jason made extras, and since you missed lunch, I got volunteered,” Jesse said, handing him the water bottle.
Colby blinked at it in surprise. “Oh. Thanks.”
Jesse shot him a sideways glance. “Don’t get used to it. Ain’t exactly good at being an errand boy.” He passed over the sandwich as if it were part of a hostage negotiation.
Colby took it gratefully, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
