Tristan flew to his defense. “He’s got boots.”
“He’s got Dave’s boots,” Bryce said, before turning back to Colby. “Meet me tomorrow on my lunch break. We’ll get you kitted out.”
Colby didn’t understand what was going on. “Uh, okay,” he managed. But Bryce was already halfway down the hallway.
He turned back to Tristan, uncertain. “What does that mean?”
“It means boots,” Tristan said cheerfully, rinsing a plate. “But for the love of God, don’t let him choose them. He has the taste of a raccoon on meth.”
Colby snorted, the tension in his shoulders easing. But the disquiet didn’t fully go.
He hesitated. “Um, Tristan?”
“Yeah?”
“If I’m going to buy boots tomorrow—” He hesitated again, twisting the dish towel in his hands. “I don’t have any money.”
It came out in a rush. He knew Tristan wouldn’t make a big deal of it, but that didn’t prevent humiliation from burning under his skin.What little he’d had when he first met Nico was long gone, and he hadn’t been given his own share of what the pack brought in. He’d been dependent on Nico for everything, from the food he ate to the toothpaste he brushed with. And Nico had never let him forget it.
Tristan didn’t even blink at his confession. “You don’t need any. That’s what pack does.”
Colby nodded slowly. He appreciated that, he really did, but something about it sat heavy in his chest.
“D’you want me to mention it to Bryce?” Tristan asked, obviously picking up on Colby’s unease.
Colby shook his head, surprised by how fast the answer came. “No. I should do it.”
He needed to be able to speak for himself and make his own connections, rather than mediate everything through Tristan. He wanted to be a person again, not just someone’s shadow—not even Tristan’s.
TRISTAN
Colby didn’t speak once the bedroom door clicked shut behind them. He just turned, reached for Tristan, and pulled him close. He looked at Tristan for a moment, a smile in his eyes that Tristan loved to see, before their lips met in a kiss.
A kiss that swiftly turned needing, as Colby’s tongue slid into Tristan’s mouth, teasing yet sure. Just like his hands, as he worked them under Tristan’s shirt and explored his body until Tristan was shivering.
Tristan forced himself to draw back for an instant, just to check. “You good?”
Colby nodded, his eyes dark in a way that caused Tristan’s stomach to flip over. “I want to see you.” His voice was deeper than usual, and God, at this rate, Tristan was going to come before Colby even touched his cock.
Tristan let himself be undressed slowly. His shirt hit the floor. Then Colby touched the button of his jeans, looking a question at him.
“Yes,” Tristan breathed. “Whatever you want.”
Colby smiled, then kissed him again.
It wasn’t like before. They’d been together without hesitation, without fear before, but never likethis—like Colby knew exactly what he wanted. Like he knew his own edges. He trailed his hand down Tristan’s chest as if he was memorizing it.
And then he dropped to his knees.
Tristan froze.
“Colby…”
“I want to,” Colby said, gaze steady. “Let me.”
There was no hesitation in him. No submission, either. He wasn’t offering himself. He was taking control.
Tristan nodded, too stunned for words. Colby worked open his fly with deft fingers, then his hand curved around Tristan’s cock.
