And he had just proved Gabe right.
The feeling of regret grew heavier as Tristan watched Jared’s eyes harden. Had he made a mistake?
“Nice,” a familiar voice said from behind him. “Blackmail, brat?”
Pursing his lips, Tristan turned his head and glowered at Zach.
Zach stepped into the room, his steely gray eyes fixing Tristan with a hard look. “Why aren’t you in bed? I gave you clear instructions.”
Tristan scowled. “You mean orders?”
“Precisely,” Zach said, undeterred. “I need to talk to Jared. Go wait for me outside.”
The nerve of him.
Tristan gave him a mutinous glare. Zach just looked at him expectantly. The infuriating part was that there was something about this man that made Tristan want to obey him. And it pissed him off.
Tristan stormed out of the room—well, attempted to—but pain shot through his groin and he couldn’t hold back a whimper. Grabbing his groin, Tristan slowed down. “Shut up,” he threw over his shoulder.
“I didn’t say anything,” Zach said wryly. “But if you stop being a baby and start listening to me, you’ll recover twice as fast.”
“I hate you,” Tristan said with feeling and slammed the door behind him.
Outside Jared’s office, he flopped down on the couch, angry and more than a little puzzled. God, what was wrong with him? Tristan DuVal didn’t obey anyone. Tristan DuVal didn’t let anyone order him around. He was the one who cajoled and manipulated people. He had everyone eating out of his hand. Why did he let that high-handed asshole dictate what he did? Zach had told him to wait outside and he had obeyed, like a good little boy. Unbelievable.
He didn’t understand his own behavior and it bothered him. Tristan would be the first to admit his moral compass was probably pretty skewed by most people’s standards, and he saw nothing wrong with telling people a white lie to get what he wanted, but he always prided himself on being brutally honest with himself. He knew his mind and he wasn’t prone to self-delusion.
But this time he had no clue what was going on. He didn’t recognize himself. He was behaving like a…like a foolish boy. Since the moment he’d met Zach Hardaway, he’d been making mistake after mistake. The smart thing to do would have been to be nice to Zach from the very beginning. One could catch more flies with honey than vinegar: that was practically Tristan’s motto. But when it came to Zach, his temper always got the better of him and he spoke before he thought. It was downright stupid and shortsighted, and Tristan was never stupid and shortsighted—well, normally.
The sound of footsteps interrupted his musings and Tristan lifted his head. He suppressed a sigh upon seeing Gabriel, his adoptive brother and a constant thorn in his side.
“What are you doing here?” Gabriel said suspiciously, glancing at the door to Jared’s office.
“Just finished having wild sex with Dr. Sheldon.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Gabe said with an eye-roll before disappearing into the office of his…lover? Boyfriend? Best friend? Gabe’s relationship with Jared had always confused Tristan. It had always been so weird and freakishly close that it bordered on codependent and unhealthy. It was almost a relief to know that they were fucking now—it was easier to put a label on their relationship. Tristan didn’t really understand what Jared saw in his brother, but he wasn’t blind. It was a wonder they hadn’t been outed yet, so nauseatingly besotted with each other they looked whenever Tristan had seen them together.
Tristan shook his head. Gabe was an idiot to risk his career, no matter how handsome Jared Sheldon was. They were professional footballers. They were constantly in the spotlight. The risk of being outed was enormous. That was why Tristan was so careful when he got laid. Having an actual relationship with a man was incredibly risky for a football player. Well, it was Gabe’s problem, not his. If the little idiot wanted to risk his career for a dick, it was his own choice.
Tristan looked at the door to Jared’s office again.
All right, enough was enough.
He got to his feet, opened the door, and stuck his head in.
Zach was chatting amiably with Jared and Gabe.
“Seriously?” Tristan said. “You’re making me wait so you can make small talk? I’m leaving.”
“I’m done,” Zach said. “We can go now.”
Tristan’s eyes flicked to the wedding invitations on the desk.
“You could have mailed them,” he said before striding away.
“Slow down, brat,” Zach called after him. “I’m not carrying you again if you worsen your injury—again.”
Tristan ignored him, his mood souring further for no discernible reason.
It didn’t take Zach long to catch up to him. He grabbed Tristan’s arm, forcing him to slow down. “Come to complain about me, huh?”
“Yes,” Tristan bit out before smiling cheerfully and waving to the people they encountered. “Hey!”
Zach chuckled. “You’re such a chameleon.”