“Yes.”
Tristan pushed his thumb against the glass. “So that means we’re basically done.”
He counted three seconds before Zach said, “Yes.”
“Ah,” Tristan said, drawing zigzag lines on the window with his finger. “About time. The season is almost over. I’ll have just a month to recover my form and impress the coach.”
“When you start training with the squad, don’t rush to return to the pitch. Your problem is, you don’t have patience.” Zach let out an irritated grunt. “I got the car washed just this morning. Stop that.”
Tristan didn’t stop. “I have a lot of patience. I’m the paragon of patience.”
“And I’m the Pope. This is your third groin injury in half a year. It’s obvious you’ve been doing something wrong. I looked up the videos of your training sessions and noticed that you’re too impatient and don’t do a thorough warm-up before every training session. That’s very important, Tristan. A correct warm-up will help prepare your muscles for any activity.”
Tristan drew a dog with his finger. Well, at least it was supposed to be a dog. He glanced out the window. “We aren’t going to my house.”
“No,” Zach said. “I’ve got a DVD at my place. A guide to proper warm-up and a structured stretching routine. You will watch it carefully and follow the instructions to the letter when you start training without me.” Zach went quiet for a moment. “I thought we had another week, but Jared disagreed. So you’ll have to learn from the video.”
Tristan started finger-painting the dog.
Zach let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you winding me up on purpose?”
“Eyes on the road, not on me,” Tristan murmured. “I know it’s hard, but I’m too young to die because you can’t stop looking at me.”
“Tristan—”
Tristan drummed his fingers on the window. “You’re still looking at me.” He could physically feel when Zach looked away.
They were silent for the rest of the ride.
When Zach finally parked the car in front of a big, beautiful house, Tristan laughed. “You know, for someone who keeps bitching at me for being a spoiled, rich boy, that’s pretty rich—pun intended. Your house is twice as big as mine. Who’s the spoiled rich boy now?”
Zach got out of the car. “I have a big family.”
Tristan followed him into the house. “They’re here?”
“Not at the moment. My mother prefers to live with our aunt. My sister is married now and my brothers all have moved out, too, though they all still hang out here often enough. I’ll get the DVD,” Zach said before disappearing upstairs.
Tristan looked around the living room. It was large but looked lived-in and comfy. There were pictures on the low table by the couch. Mostly family pictures, but one of them was different. Tristan picked it up and stared at it. Zach had an arm around a gorgeous brunette.
So this was the famous Donna. Her tall, curvy figure looked perfect next to Zach’s tall, masculine frame. They looked good together.
Tristan put the picture down and picked up another. Zach and his siblings: four brothers and a sister. They didn’t all look like him, but the family resemblance was unmistakable. All of the brothers were tall, one of them clearly close to Zach’s age.
Feeling eyes on him, Tristan looked up. Zach stood in the doorway, watching him.
“What?”
Shaking his head, Zach walked over and handed him a DVD.
Tristan made a face but took it. “Your siblings?”
Zach nodded, still watching him with the same strange expression. It was further tattering Tristan’s already frayed nerves. Trying to keep his body relaxed, Tristan pointed at the black-haired guy to Zach’s left on the picture. “I’d totally shag this one.”
Zach’s gaze followed his finger. He looked amused. “Ryan is a kid. He’s just twenty-one.”
“So what?” Tristan said, putting the picture on the table and smiling sweetly at Zach. “I just turned twenty-two. Is he into guys?”
“Who?”
“Ryan.”
Zach’s eyes narrowed. “No, he isn’t.”
“Hmm. It doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t want him,” Zach said. “You’re just trying to annoy me.”
Inwardly bristling, Tristan struggled to keep his face neutral. “Why would that annoy you? Your brother is a big boy and can defend his virtue. And you’re wrong. I’ve always had a thing for black hair and pale skin. He’s hot—and he’s my age.” He smiled. “Now that I won’t have you to entertain me, I’ll have to find a new fucktoy. Why not him? He’s exactly my type.”
“Stay away from my brothers,” Zach said in a low, dangerous voice. “I won’t let you use them just to annoy me. None of them can handle you.”
“And who can?” Tristan said, cocking his head. “You?”
Their breathing mixed, both swift and strained.
Zach’s hands gripped Tristan’s hips hard. “I don’t give a shit what you do. Just stay away.”
“Scared you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
“You little—”
“You know what?” Tristan said. “Let’s skip the foreplay when we say awful things to each other and get mad.” His fingers started unbuttoning Zach’s shirt. He hoped Zach didn’t notice how unsteady they were. He looked Zach in the eye. “I want to suck your cock. And then I want you to fuck me. Then we go on our own ways and never see each other again.”