Tristan pulled on his T-shirt as he turned around, then fixed his gaze right on Henry. “Okay, what is it?”
“What?”
“You have something you want to say, so you may as well say it now.”
“God, am I that obvious?”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Maybe not to everyone, but to me, yeah.” He glanced at the clock on the end table. “And we need to be down in the lobby in twenty minutes, so if there’s going to be a fight, I guess we should expedite it.”
Henry let out a strained chuckle. “No fight. At leastI’mnot planning one.” He stood and smiled at Tristan. “You’re... Look, I noticed that you were nervous when they brought up going out to dinner.” Blush bled into Henry’s face, even more blatant than usual with no stubble to obscure and blue it out. “Is it about the money, or about the two of us, or something else?”
“God, it’s not about us.” Conflicting sensations burst through Tristan’s core. Hot, flickering embarrassment exploding against a steady, calming thrum. “You really noticed that? I thought I hid it pretty well.”
“You totally froze when they brought up dinner. I knew something was going on.”
Tristan scrubbed his cheeks, trying to formulate the words. “It’s the money. It’salwaysthe money. I have all the same expenses I did before, but now I also have repairs to my apartment to handle when I get back, and maybe my sister’s going to need more support. It’s probably not the last time he’s going to try and get her back even with a restraining order. Catering only pays so much.”
“I mean, there’s no reason to think the network isn’t comping the whole meal. Especially if they’re filming it.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying to convince myself of that since I got back in here.” Tristan walked back to the closet and grabbed his slacks. “But my brain keeps telling me that maybe they aren’t and I’m going to be outed as some poor little baker.”
“You’re not some poor little baker, though. You’re Tristan and you’re amazing and you made it this far.”
“I’m very flattered you think that, but I have no money.” He slipped the button-down over his shoulders, then pulled it straight as he turned to face Henry again. “I don’t have money for this meal, and I know it’s a small concern in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a problemtonight. I have all this money on the horizon for filming this show, let alone if I win the full quarter million, but none of that will help me cover dinner in a few hours. Which again, small worries. God forbid you compare my stupid problem to world hunger and war and people getting killed overseas for being gay and nuclear stockpiling—”
“Dude, dude.” Henry gripped him hard by the shoulders. “Is this what it’s like to live in your head?”
“When I’m panicking? Yeah.” Tristan grabbed Henry’s hand, worried his thumb across Henry’s scarred, pockmarked fingers. “I’m sorry. It’s just frustrating.”
“Hey, it’s fine.” Henry sighed. A normal sigh. A let’s-continue-the-conversation sigh. “I have extra money, and I want you to hold on to it. In case.”
“What. God, no. No way. No.” Tristan stepped back and started buttoning up his shirt rapidly. “I’m not taking your money.”
“Tristan, if I can help you out with this, I want to.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.” Tristan finished buttoning, then sat on the bed with his socks, head spinning. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Come on. We both acknowledge that you’re probably not going to even need it. It’s extra, and you can give it back at the end of the night. Let me be the highfalutin one today.”
Tristan sighed as he pulled his pant legs down over the socks. “I appreciate it. I really do, Henry. But it’s not okay. Not with someone I feel about like I do about you.” An urge struck him there, one that nearly made him say something too honest. “We already have to hide what’s going on here from the production crew. I don’t want anything as stupid as money to put our relationship on the line.”
“I get that. I just... I don’t want you to worry.”
“Oh boy, if you don’t want someone who worries, you’ve hitched yourself to the wrong wagon.” Again, the urge to speak came over him, to lay out every feeling currently pumping through his veins. What was this? He got a modicum of kindness and suddenly his heart wanted to pour out.
For Henry, though.
That was the lynchpin, wasn’t it? It wasn’t simply that someone was being nice. It was that, in spite of all Tristan’s problems and ghosts and demons, not only was Henry still here, he was trying to ease some of those worries. At the cost of his own pocketbook, no less.
“Do it for me. Formypeace of mind.” Henry held the money out again. “I don’t want you to stress about this dinner and ruin it for yourself. You deserve to have a nice time tonight as much as anyone else. And if I can give that to you, I want to.”
This time, Tristan didn’t hold back the surge of emotion that built across his tongue. He let it loose, even as it chilled him and tightened his stomach around that unique ball of lightning. “But I might be in love with you, and taking your money is no way to start a committed relationship.”
And Henry faltered. His hand dropped to the bed, and he blinked for several seconds. Other than that, he seemed frozen in place until he finally spoke. “That’s the same reason I want you to take it. That, uh, that first part.”
The room was silent for a long time, or maybe not long at all. They sat together in the quiet, close as could be, but Tristan couldn’t seem to touch Henry. Nothing had changed, but somehow everything had.
“Did you mean that?” Henry slowly, carefully twisted his head and made eye contact, his cheeks flushed. “If you didn’t, and it just came out, that’s fine.”
