“Right,” Tristan said, stepping away. “I’ve got to go.”
Nick grabbed his arm. “Hey, not so fast! I can’t let you go just like that.”
“Nick, we’ve talked about it,” Zach said sharply. “You can’t bother my patients.”
“No problem.” Nick smirked at his brother, clearly enjoying riling him up. “He’s not your patient anymore.”
“Nick.” The warning in Zach’s voice was unmistakable, and Nick’s smirk faded, a look of genuine confusion appearing on his face.
Ignoring Zach, whose eyes were boring holes in the back of his head, Tristan smiled at Nick. He liked his fans. And he liked this one. And he liked pissing Zach off most of all. “I have to go now, but you can get my number from Zach. Call me.”
Surprise and pleasure flashed across Nick’s face. “Great, I will. See you.”
Tristan nodded and walked away, refusing to look back at Zach. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together. God, he was so done with it—with this weird, pathetic thing, whatever it was. Screw Zach. He was done. So done. He couldn’t wait for his life to get back to normal. Zach was welcome to marry his gorgeous fiancee and live his happily ever after. Tristan didn’t give a shit.
And if his throat was a little tight and painful, no one was any the wiser.
Chapter 19
“All right, lads, a break for half an hour!” the coach announced, much to the players’ relief.
Kicking the ball away, Gabriel DuVal wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked around. A smile tugged at his lips when he noticed the familiar tall figure on the other end of the training pitch. Ignoring his teammates, he headed toward his…boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word still felt strange. It didn’t quite fit.
“My Jared,” he mouthed tentatively and smiled to himself. Much better.
He sneaked up on Jared and looped his arm around his neck. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Observing,” Jared said, his gaze trained on the reserve players.
Gabriel paid them little mind. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the totally inappropriate urge to press his lips against Jared’s strong jawline and suck. In a way, it was weird. He’d always known Jared was handsome, but just a few months ago, it had been something abstract: he was straight and his love for Jared had been strictly platonic. While he was relieved that this new physical aspect of their relationship didn’t feel forced, Gabriel was a little unsettled by how much he’d grown to need it. Now he couldn’t get enough of Jared’s body as much as he couldn’t get enough of his affection and love. He wanted to kiss him.
But of course he couldn’t. Most people might be used to their unusual closeness and didn’t bat an eye at their displays of affections, but even they couldn’t get away with a public kiss. Sometimes being a football player sucked.
“Observing what?” Gabriel said, trying to distract himself.
“Tristan,” Jared replied.
Frowning, Gabriel followed Jared’s gaze. His prick of a brother was a little apart from the main group, kicking the ball at his feet. “Why? I thought he was fit enough to train without medical supervision. He’s playing in the next game.”
“Didn’t you notice anything off about him?” Jared said, stroking Gabriel’s shoulder. He dropped his hand after a moment, probably remembering they had an audience.
“Nope,” Gabriel said, already missing the touch.
“Look at him,” Jared said.
“I’m already looking at him.”
“No, look at him. Don’t you see anything strange?”
His curiosity piqued, Gabriel studied his brother more carefully. Tristan was silent, his eyes downcast and jaw clenched tightly. He was giving off a distinct leave-me-alone vibe.
“He looks moody,” Gabriel said before frowning. “He looks moody,” he repeated slower, as the words sank in.
“Yes,” Jared said. “And he’s been that way the entire week—ever since he resumed training here.”
Huh. Tristan never showed his temper in public. Never. He was the “nice brother.” He was the one who was always in good humor, who always had a joke to say and a smile to give. Gabriel knew better than anyone that it was just a facade, but other people didn’t. As far as the public was concerned, Tristan was the ultimate good guy, a poor orphan who achieved his dreams through hard work and dedication, against all odds. It made a good story (and never mind that Gabe’s story was basically the same; he wasn’t the media darling). Tristan carefully guarded his reputation and was rarely seen frowning or being mean in public.
“There’s something wrong with him,” Jared said.
“Why should we care?” Gabriel murmured, leaning into Jared.
“Gabe,” Jared said in a warning tone.
Grinning at him, Gabriel made an innocent face. “What?”
Jared didn’t look amused. “We’re in public.”
“So what? I wanna touch you.”
Jared’s expression softened. “I want to touch you, too.” The look in his dark blue eyes was so tender and intense at the same time, it warmed Gabe to his toes. “But it’s dangerous,” Jared said, turning back to Tristan.