Leaning against the doorway, Tristan regarded him curiously. “Why aren’t you with Ryan?”
His anger flaring, James bit out, “Ryan and I aren’t actually attached at the hip, you know.”
Tristan smiled. “Ah.” He said nothing else, but somehow his silence was more mocking than any words.
“Has anyone told you how annoying you are?” James said.
Tristan grinned openly, looking so very young and beautiful that James couldn’t help but stare at him. Tristan wasn’t his type at all, but on a purely aesthetic level, he could see the appeal.
“Zach tells me that all the time,” Tristan revealed. “But it’s hard to take him seriously, because he usually kisses me right after that.” His expression turned speculative. “What happened to make you so mad at Ryan? You normally look at him like he hangs the moon.”
James’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer.
“Wait, did you finally tell him about your undying, tragic love?” When James glowered at him, Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying he took it badly? Hmm. I didn’t expect that.”
Sighing, James rubbed at his eyes. How was he supposed to answer that? On one hand, Ryan took the news very well; on the other hand, he seemed to be determined to make James’s life a slow, exquisite torture.
“Ryan got into his head that he must do something for me,” he said flatly. “First he tried to find me a perfect boyfriend so I could forget about him, and now…Now he tries to make me feel better.” James chuckled. “I don’t get him anymore. He says even thinking about me that way grosses him out—he told you that, remember?—and then he jerks me off and acts like it wasn’t a big deal—”
“Whoa, wait.” Tristan was smirking. “Really? He gave you a handjob?”
James tried to fight the heat that rushed to his cheeks. “It wasn’t like that. He was all over me as usual and didn’t understand how hard it was for me. So I kissed him. I wanted to teach him a lesson but ended up…” He winced. “I was such a mess. I guess he felt sorry for me, so he gave me a hand. Literally.”
Tristan had a pinched look on his face. “Zach once claimed—when we were still at each other’s throats—that he bit my lip because I annoyed him too much.” He laughed. “It sounded almost as ridiculous as what you’re saying. I won’t jerk someone off if I feel sorry for them.”
James shook his head, looking down at his clasped fingers. “Ryan has always had this thing for taking care of me. He could never stand aside and watch when I was upset or hurt. So for him it’s not that strange.”
Tristan made an impatient noise. “If you understand why he’s behaving that way, what’s the problem? Tell him to cut it out.”
James lifted his eyes to him and said nothing, curling and uncurling his fingers.
Tristan’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t want him to stop.” It wasn’t a question.
Biting his lip, James averted his gaze, his face hot. “It’s not—”
“You like that he takes care of you,” Tristan said slowly. “You like being coddled by him. Deep down, you actually love that he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone for you. That he cares that much.”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” James said stiffly. He stood up and made his way to the door.
But Tristan was blocking the doorway. Up close, it always surprised James how small Tristan actually was. Tristan always commanded so much attention and seemed more imposing than he physically was.
“Move, please,” he said.
Tristan didn’t, a faint smile curling his full lips. “You wanna know my opinion?”
James rolled his eyes. “Do I have a choice?”
Tristan’s smile widened. “You’re right: you don’t.” He cocked his head, considering. “I think Ryan is straight, straighter than Zach ever was. Ryan’s probably no higher than a 1 on the Kinsey scale. But sexuality isn’t something fixed. I would know—I’ve met plenty of so-called ‘straight’ men who wanted me to suck their dicks.” Tristan gave him a cheeky smile. “But then again, you aren’t half as pretty as me. No one is.”
Smiling, James shook his head. “Do you have a point, Tristan?”
“Yes, actually,” Tristan said, his blue-green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Suck his dick. Even the straight ones like it. If he lets you and likes it enough to come back for more, maybe he can be converted to the dark side.” Chuckling, Tristan sauntered away, leaving Jamie speechless, his mouth slack. It had been a joke, right?
Right?
“By the way,” Tristan said, turning around when he reached the end of the corridor. “Tell him to make a choice between you and his girlfriend before they get more serious.” His smile acquired an edge. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be pining for a married man. It’s not pretty. Even you don’t deserve that—though, it would be kinda ironic.”