Tristan was blinking rapidly, looking anywhere but at him. “Just like that?” Before Zach could say anything, Tristan shot him a hostile look. “Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with me?”
Zach felt a rush of overwhelming affection mixed with sadness. No one should be so guarded at Tristan’s age.
“You know,” he said gently. Holding Tristan’s gaze, Zach put his hand next to Tristan’s, palm up.
Tristan eyed the hand as though it was a poisonous snake. “I—I don’t understand.”
“You do. Come on.” Zach smiled. “Where’s my confident, arrogant brat?”
Slowly, very slowly, Tristan moved his hand until their fingers curled together.
Tristan’s scowl deepened. “I’ll kill you if this is a joke,” he grumbled, his voice a little unsteady.
Zach chuckled. “This must really be love, because there’s no other reason for me to find your constant bitching adorable.”
Tristan glowered at him, and Zach finally gave in to the urge to kiss that scowling mouth again.
Minutes later, when they pulled apart, Tristan had a soft, thoroughly kissed look on his face. He was so bloody lovely that Zach just had to kiss him again. And again. Fuck, this was ridiculous.
“Wait,” Tristan said suddenly, panting a little. “Are you really saying that you, like, love me?” He tripped a little on the word “love” and looked at Zach with suspicion.
Christ.
Zach brushed Tristan’s flushed cheek with his thumb. “You’re such a little shit,” he murmured, trailing kisses on Tristan’s jawline. “You drive me crazy in a good way and in a bad way. But yeah, I’m pretty sure I love you. I have no idea how that happened, but I do.”
Tristan’s hand squeezed his hand almost painfully. He buried his face in Zach’s shoulder and muttered a few words.
Zach’s heart somersaulted into his throat. “What was that?” he said wryly, even though he had heard him perfectly.
Tristan punched him in the shoulder. “I said I hate you.”
Zach hid his smile in Tristan’s hair and breathed in deeply. God. He hoped these feelings would get a little less intense with time. Feeling so much was just wrong for a rational thirty-year-old man.
“I hate you, too,” Zach said, wrapping his arms around Tristan. He thought back to their first meeting. If someone back then had told him he would become so utterly besotted with that boy within the next few months, he would have thought they were crazy.
Tristan sighed, slipping his arms around Zach, too. “You’ll never get rid of me.”
“I’m oddly okay with that.”
Tristan dug his fingers into his back. “And I’m not Donna. No open relationship bullshit. I don’t share.”
“Neither do I. Not you.” Zach nuzzled the spot behind Tristan’s ear. He bit Tristan’s earlobe. “If you flirt with Nick again, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
Tristan pulled back a little and smirked, looking at him from under his eyelashes. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do to me?”
Zach’s pulse skyrocketed. His dick twitched. His hands twitched.
Tristan gave him an all-knowing look.
“You little—” Zach laughed. “As soon as I fix your leg, we’ll see to it.”
“I thought your services were booked months in advance or something,” Tristan said, cocking his head. “Don’t you have other very important patients?”
Tristan might be teasing, but Zach’s tone was completely serious when he replied, “You are not my patient. You’re mine and I’ll take care of you.”
Tristan’s smirk disappeared and he simply looked at Zach for a long moment. Then, a small smile tugged at Tristan’s lips before transforming into a bright, beautiful smile, his aquamarine eyes shining with warmth, and Zach’s breath caught in his throat. Fuck. He had it so bad.
“You’re beautiful,” Zach said hoarsely. He wasn’t talking about Tristan’s looks.
Tristan stared at him wide-eyed before shaking his head a little.
“You are,” Zach said. “It’s all in the eyes.”
Blushing and looking generally uncomfortable, Tristan shook his head again.
Zach chuckled. “Don’t you argue with me. I’m always right.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Prick. Not sure I want such a bossy prick as my physio again.”
Zach gave him a short kiss, which turned into a very long one, because Jesus, that mouth drove him crazy.
When they finally parted for air, Zach stared. Tristan was flushed down to the collar of his hospital gown and his eyes were half-closed, pupils so wide there was only the smallest ring of blue. And that mouth, plump with blood and teeth marks, red and wet and swollen—Fucking hell. Get a grip, Hardaway.
Zach cleared his throat and smirked. “Who says you have a choice, dollface?”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed and Zach had to kiss him again, because a pissed off Tristan was a sight to behold.
“Ugh, I hate you so much,” Tristan said between kisses. “So much.”
Zach laughed and kissed his nose. “You’re adorable.”
Tristan smacked him on the head.
Epilogue
Four months later
“Are you ever going to tell him you’re his brother?”
Tristan glanced across the pool at Ryan and James before closing his eyes and burrowing deeper into Zach’s side. The chaise-lounge was too small for the two of them, but Tristan was perfectly okay with it. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and he had Zach’s half-naked body against him: everything was right with the world. He wasn’t in the mood to talk or think about James or James’s father.