Secret

“I’ll call you later. It’s not the time.” Dylan punched the elevator button and the doors opened immediately. He didn’t even hesitate. He rushed inside, hitting the button to the lobby. As Tristan followed, Dylan held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Not now. Back off, Tristan.” He registered the emotions playing across Tristan’s face as the guy took a step back. He saw pain flash in his eyes as the doors closed separating the two of them, but he steeled his heart. Teri would have never called him home in the middle of the night if things weren’t seriously wrong. His obligations required he put them above everything, even Tristan knew that.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he jogged across the lobby to the valet desk, fishing out his car’s parking ticket. “I need to follow you to the car. I’ve got an emergency.”

“No problem,” the guy said, grabbing the keys from a side board.

“We need to hurry,” Dylan said, antsy as hell, running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s on the third floor,” the guy said, heading to the front doors.

“Fastest way there.” The guy took off out the front doors in a slow jog. Dylan came up right beside him. “Can you run faster?”

“Oh yeah.” He took off like a dart and Dylan followed, down three flights of stairs to the bottom of the garage. As he spotted his car, he dug out his money clip, peeling off a twenty dollar bill. He grabbed the keys as the valet took the money. He was in the car and out of the garage in a matter of a minute. Luckily they lived in north Dallas, so he was fairly close to home.

Tristan stood there as those doors slid shut in his face. He couldn’t ever remember being in a situation like this before. His heart was in that elevator, riding down without him. Pain filled him on an all-consuming level and the place his heart used to reside now ached. What should he do?

And another important question rained down on him. When exactly had Dylan become his reason for living?

He had no choice.

Tristan started back toward the hotel room as he dug inside his pockets. He had his phone and wallet. He kept going, patting himself down, until he lifted his wallet, looking inside for the cardkey. He stood in front of the locked door with no room key, completely dressed, all except for his shoes.

Fuck it! He pivoted on his bare feet, tucking everything back inside his pants. He ran his hands over his hair, hoping the bedhead might lie down on its own. He hit the elevator call button as he pulled up the Uber app on his phone. A car sat waiting out front, and he went through the steps to book the ride. The elevator doors opened. He ignored the stares as he ran for the front doors. The SUV pulled up as he rapidly took the steps down.

“I’ve got to find the exact address. I know it’s Highland Park. Can you head that way?” he asked, sitting in the front seat.

“Most people sit in the back, man.” The guy was more casual than most drivers, but he supposed that may have something to do with the late hour. Tristan just stared at him for a moment.

“Most drivers are already en route by now.” Tristan had his phone in his face, digging through his contact information. He’d put Dylan’s address inside there somewhere. “How much do you charge to wait?” Tristan asked.

“More than you can afford,” the guy said, chuckling a little.

“I doubt that,” Tristan responded. He might look like a scrub, but the tone he used had the guy’s demeanor immediately changing. He found the address and spouted it off to the driver with urgency.

“I charge seventy-five an hour,” he said, eyeing him closer.

“I need you to sit out front and wait. I don’t know how long it’ll last,” Tristan added.

“You got the cash?” Tristan reached for his back pocket and opened his wallet, running a thumb over the bills inside. He pulled out two one hundred dollar bills and laid them on the console. They hit a red light and the guy looked at him, then at the wallet and down to the money. His eyes shot back up, and he palmed the cash, shoving the bills inside his pocket.

“I’m Darren. Need me to stop and get you some shoes, man?”

“No, I need to be in front of that house as soon as possible,” Tristan said and rattled off the address again.

“Got it.” Darren lifted his phone and entered the address.

“Want some music?” He didn’t wait as the light turned green. By the time they hit the highway, a slow and steady rap song started. The guy knew every word. He sat there, singing quietly, driving a little faster than the speed limit, which was fine—even better in fact.

Tristan ignored everything and stared out the side window into the night. Why did this feel so much like he’d just been dumped? He took a deep breath to calm the thumping of his heart. Under no circumstance would he make this about him. Not right now. Besides, even if Dylan tried to end things between them, he had the security of having Dylan working directly for him. He could do everything in his power to win the guy back. But shit! Things had just gotten right between them. They were actually pretty perfect right now, and Tristan couldn’t wait for the future. He was biding his time until they were together all day, every day.

Shit!

“Huh?” The driver looked his way.

“What’s that?” Tristan looked over, completely lost in the deep worry of his thoughts.

“You just said something.”

“Nothing, sorry.” Tristan watched as they pulled off the highway and passed by Southern Methodist University. The houses got nicer as they drove the back way inside the town. As they pulled up to Dylan’s place, Tristan stared at the house. The front windows were small and open. He could see lights on the inside, but the other houses in the neighborhood were dark. Tristan looked down at the time. It was a little past four in the morning.