Broken Pieces Page 69



“That sounds good,” Josiah smiled at him.

Words played on Tristan’s tongue, but he couldn’t push them free. The truth was, this thing between them meant more to Tristan than pretty much anything ever had. He’d been feeling it for a while, but after talking with his mom, hearing that Josiah had been there for her when he hadn’t, a woman he didn’t know, well...that meant something to him. It meant more because he knew Josiah hadn’t done it for him, he’d done it because that’s the kind of man he was. Good.

And it made Tristan even more of an asshole, because he still couldn’t let Josiah all the way in.

“Can I ask you something?” Josiah laid a hand on his chest and Tristan nodded. “The only time you’ve ever let me go down on you is when you told me to. I wanted that, Tristan. Tonight. I wanted to take care of you.”

Tristan’s body froze up. How could he tell Josiah what he’d done? That he’d let someone use his body—let someone control and dominate him for money? That he’d been a whore for another man through college, despite the fact that his mom had been manipulated with the same thing? That he’d seen it break her?

The truth was, he couldn’t. Couldn’t lose Josiah’s respect, because he was the only one he gave a shit about.

Silence stretched on, one minute, two, three, four. He counted the seconds, then flinched when Josiah picked up his wrist and pressed his fingers to Tristan’s pulse.

“If I could completely give myself to anyone, it would be you. If I deserved anyone to take care of me, I would want it to be you.” That was the realest truth he could give Josiah.

Josiah paused. “Emotionally or physically?”

“Both.” Because he couldn’t completely give up control physically. Could never let someone inside him the way only Wilson had been.

“Because of what happened to your mom?”

“That’s the emotional part,” was all he could say. Couldn’t tell him the physical had to do with Wilson. “She gave her heart to my father, and then to another man, and it destroyed her. I can’t do that, Josiah, but damned if you don’t make me want to.”

With that, Josiah pressed his lips to Tristan’s. Tristan opened his mouth and dipped his tongue into Josiah’s, the kiss so sweet he couldn’t regret his honesty.

He pulled Josiah on top of him.  “You were there for her, Josiah. The way I was raised...we never had anyone who was there for us, yet you were. I want you to know that means the world to me.”

The room was silent for what felt like an eternity. “I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one. I’ll always be here for you.”

Tristan squeezed him, trying to tell him with his body that he would be there for Josiah, too. “And you weren’t alone anymore after him?” Jealousy took over his bloodstream, rushing through his whole body.

“No.”

“Tell me.” The word almost stuck in his throat. The last thing he wanted to talk about was the man Josiah loved, but he needed to know, too. Their story was a part of Josiah, which made it a part of them.

Josiah grabbed his wrist again, placing his fingers at Tristan’s pulse. “I was sixteen when I met him. The first time he walked into the room, I thought he would kill me...but he didn’t. He saved me. He loved me.”

Tristan held Josiah while he talked about Mateo. As he told him how the man had protected him, more than once, in every way possible. He heard about Mateo’s fights and learning to play chess, and the day he gave Josiah the queen. About Mateo getting sent away and Josiah going to him. He listened as Josiah told him about the apartment they shared and Mateo’s work and how he always got sick. Tristan’s blood ran cold, his whole body aching as Josiah told him he was attacked, and that Mateo had saved him then, too.

He didn’t go into details, which Tristan was thankful for. Rules were important to him, laws were, but there was a part of him that respected the hell out of Mateo, too. He’d done whatever he had to to protect someone he loved.

He wanted to hate the bastard. And he did, in a way...but then he thought of Josiah. About what he’d dealt with before Mateo, and how Mateo’d kept him safe. And for that, he couldn’t completely despise the man.

“He’s worthy, then...worthy of your love,” Tristan said when Josiah finished. He’d given Josiah something Tristan couldn’t willingly hand over: His heart.

Josiah leaned up and looked at Tristan, eyes full of emotion. “So are you. I love you, too.”

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