And she left too, leaving a glimmer of unease with Henry. He didn’t love trying to juggle partial truths and secrets and all that crap.
But unease aside, for now he could take his three extra days with Tristan—assuming Tristan would have him back. But one problem at a time. For as long as he could manage.
Henry didn’t ask that night if he was coming back to Tristan’s hotel room. That niggled at Tristan a bit, considering how clear he’d tried to make the separation between the two of them, but he said nothing about it.I gave him permission, after all.And if he turned his brain off, itdidfeel good, walking through the door together and not having to go through the motions of Henry asking. Just getting to go back and spend time together, albeit with Tristan surreptitiously glancing over his shoulder every minute or two.
So turn his brain off was exactly what he did. He pushed his worries and stress aside at the door as the hotel room ensconced them away from any prying eyes. He could tackle his worries about Finn—and about how Henry reacted to his worries worry—a little later.
For a few hours, Tristan wanted to pretend everything was fine.
Henry sat on the edge of the bed and immediately slipped off his shoes and socks. “You make a good chocolate cake.”
“Not as good as yours.” Tristan sat on the opposite side, facing the window and the darkened parking lot below. He pulled off his shoes and socks and tucked them into the far corner, then immediately fished out his phone. “I need to give my sister a call, then I’m yours for the night.”
Henry flopped down so his head was next to Tristan’s hip. His stubble, now quite visible at the end of the day, was like the outside char on a campfire marshmallow, dark over silky and pale skin. “You really never miss a night.”
“Of course not. I made a promise.”
“I thought, with everything that happened today ...”
Tristan balked at the mention. “Bad day, sounds like I need my sister more than usual.”
Henry nodded, then popped back up. “I’ll go over to my hotel room, though. I can talk with Carrie and give you your privacy so you don’t have to send me for ice again.”
Tristan’s skin flushed hot. “Was I that obvious?”
Henry chuckled. “Did you think it was subtle?”
“It’s not you. I just... you know ...”
“Hey, she’s family, she’s having a hard time. I don’t have a problem leaving you to talk to her.” He stood, walked over, and kissed Tristan on the cheek, his stubble barely scratching. “Come get me when you’re done. No big deal. God knows I should probably use the room they’re paying for, for a few minutes, anyway. I mean, what must the maids think?”
Tristan’s face stayed hot. Honestly, why was he keeping the call private at all? Henry knew Lucia’s situation already.
“You don’t need to go.”
Henry’s brows furrowed. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better about it.”
“Look, you don’t need to. I know I made excuses, but... stay. Please.” He wanted to keep connected to Henry, even when talking about his sister. He didn’t want any gaps between them. “If you want to use your room after that, I’m all game for it.”
Henry’s lips pursed tight for a second, then he sat back on the bed. “If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave because I’m calling Lucia. After all, she’s the one who told me to hook up with you in the first place.”
“Oh really?” Henry’s face relaxed into an easy smile. “Maybe I should call her, then. I seem to owe her.”
“Right. Maybe postponethatconversation a bit longer.” Tristan unlocked his screen and flicked through his contacts until he hit the apartment’s number.
Two rings, then Lucia picked up. “Hello, Tristan. How many wonderful admiring fans have you acquired?”
“At least fourteen today. You know, kind of mediocre ones, but they can’t all be perfect.”
She laughed slightly. “You’re done earlier today than usual.”
“Yeah. It was only a ten-hour day today. Piece of cake.”
“Are you getting enough sleep? There’s no point killing yourself for this show, no matter what Carlita has to say about it.”
Tristan cringed. Lucia didn’t know what the financial situation was like at home... or that she wasn’t making it better. He wasn’t about to go into that with her, not with everything else going on in her life. He was ready to support her as long as he possibly could, because goddamn it she wasn’t going back to Robert, but still... itwasworth killing himself a little for the show. Every round he stayed on meant another bit of pay he could take home. “Come on, you know I barely sleep anyway. I think I can handle this.”
