The vulnerability Cade felt was fucking with his brain and his emotions, and he didn't know what to think or feel. It was too much, too overwhelming, and he needed to retreat, escape this conversation, sort out his feelings.
"Yep. Do you still want to play, or are you gonna resign and take the 'L'?"
The stare Tristan leveled at him was long and measured, and Cade held his breath waiting for the response. Eventually, the redhead turned back to the game, insisting, "There's no way I'm losing to you this time."
Cade silently breathed out, thankful for the reprieve. It took some time, but as the competition continued without any further personal questions, his anxiety waned.
When they quit for the night, Tristan said sincerely, "I'm sorry I shut you out earlier. My emotions were … are all over the place, with Natalie and this whole situation. Everything is just so messed up."
"It's okay. I get it."
Tristan's face relaxed, and he offered a small smile. "Thanks for understanding. I'm heading to bed. Do you … It's just … the sofa can't be comfortable, and the bed is big enough for both of us."
"I told you we shouldn't …"
"Not for that. I would just like it if you were next to me. Please?"
The vulnerable look in Tristan's eyes and the single pleading word cast some sort of spell over Cade, broke his resolve in a way he didn't care to examine.
"Fine. But you better not flop around all night, or I'll smother you with a pillow."
The genuine smile he got in response caused his heart to skip a beat.
He was well and truly fucked.
Cade lay awake in the big log bed as the moon cast a blueish, silver haze through the flimsy curtains. Beside him, he could make out Tristan's sleeping form, facing away from him, his breaths steady and even.
But Cade was too agitated to sleep after a day filled with unsettling emotions, mind-blowing sex, and developments in the case.
The abduction of the redheaded man was worrying, to say the least. He wasn't naïve enough to believe the ring's leaders would stop looking for Tristan, but the incident had driven home the reality that, even after they found Natalie, the siblings would need protection until they found the Handler and the other top players.
Who would Hamm assign to that job? Would it be him, or one of his colleagues? It'd better not be that fucker Tag, or he might lose his shit.
Naturally, it made the most sense for Cade to do it, except if his boss found out he'd fucked his protectee, he'd probably be pulled completely from the case.
The idea of being around Tristan for an extended time was both appealing and frightening, but he needed to be the one to do it, to be absolutely sure that Tristan would be safe. No one else would do the job as well; no one would care as much.
Which brought him to his other problem, namely,what the fuck was wrong with him?
It was completely unlike him to divulge information about his family and his relationships, but he had answered Tristan because, on some level, he was comfortable with him and trusted that he was a safe person to share with.
At the time, he'd felt so uneasy about the disclosure that it made his skin crawl, but now that he had some distance, he could admit that it hadn't been awful, just unfamiliar and new.
And speaking of new …
Tristan rolled over and cuddled up to him, his face resting on his tattooed shoulder, his arm draped across his ribcage, his knee hiked up over his thigh.
As his body tensed all over, Cade's eyes practically popped out of his head, shifting left and right, as if something in the dark could magically explain this development.
Was this new? Or had it happened last night when he'd been sleeping and unaware? Also, more importantly, what the fuck should he do now?
He felt the violent urge to scramble from the bed, move to the sofa, or maybe run to the car and drive far, far away, because cuddling was not a thing he did. Ever.
But he was frozen in place, unable to move a muscle due to fear and shock.
Or maybe because this felt kind of … nice? Tristan felt warm and soft and maybe perfect snuggled up to him like this. Cade could smell coconut shampoo and indulged himself by leaning closer to sniff the auburn curls.
Ugh, what the fuck? He was being a creep. Who the fuck smelled someone's hair? That was weird, right? He was being weird, and it had to stop. Especially since, as a professional, he needed to keep his hands off the person he was supposed to be protecting.
