Dad Next Door (Crimson Club Book 5)

7. Tristan

I layin bed with my phone in hand and most of my menagerie of pets snuggled into their bedtime spots. Freddie was sprawled out on the other side of the bed, his head on the spare pillow and his back to me, and Mili and Shadow were curled up together in the far corner where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Jinx was snuggled under the covers and fast asleep on my chest. The only ones missing were Maple and Koda, who were in their usual spots in Leo’s room.

Last night felt like a dream, a blurry one thanks to the two bottles of wine we’d finished, but still a dream.

Quinn had brought me home and handed me off to my very amused sister, who’d sent me to bed with multiple bottles of water and a lot of teasing. I’d been out of it but had checked out a few of Quinn’s porn scenes before falling asleep.

Watching them drunk had been a weird experience. Everything looked so fake and forced, and I’d had to switch to drooling over his Instagram and checking out the freebies on his OnlyFans after getting the giggles.

Drunk me hadn’t cared that I was lusting after my friend. Sober me felt like an asshole. Quinn wasn’t just my friend; he was my straight friend. Appreciating his good looks and perusing his thirst traps was one thing, but watching his content and having dirty thoughts about him was crossing the line.

Biting my lip, I let my thumb hover over the web browser app on my phone. Looking at his scenes now that I was in my right mind felt wrong, but he’d said he didn’t mind.

Steeling myself, I clicked the app and typed his stage name into the search bar.

The first hit that came up was a scene with him and a woman who was covered in tattoos. I hadn’t made it past the first minute of talking before I’d closed it down last night.

Deciding to give it another try, I opened the video.

This time I was prepared for the cheesy dialogue and focused on Quinn and not on what they were saying.

It was like looking at a different person. He was that same cocky and arrogant guy from his socials. He also had a toppy confidence to him that was hot but didn’t fit with the guy I knew.

Keeping my attention on Quinn, I watched as the dialogue ended and the action started. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see the detachment in both his and his scene partner’s eyes and actions.

I ended up skipping large chunks of the scene since most of the screen time was focused on the female model, just like he’d said.

Now that I was sober, the scene wasn’t funny; it was confusing. The man on screen wasn’t Quinn. It was Stone.

I exited out of the scene and went back to the search. Choosing another video at random, I clicked on it.

Again, it was like watching a stranger wearing Quinn’s face. He was way toppier in this scene and spent a good deal of it tossing his partner around and bending both of them into the most uncomfortable positions imaginable.

That was one thing I’d never understood about porn. I knew there were only so many ways people could have sex on camera, but there had to be better options than the acrobatic positions models ended up doing.

I always felt sorry for them when they were all twisted up. Did people actually get off on it?

I exited out of that scene feeling sympathy for both Quinn and his scene partner and opened another random one.

By how much younger Quinn looked, it was probably one of his earlier scenes.

This one wasn’t as extreme with the cheesy dialogue or the insane positions. He had a softer, gentler air about him but was still that detached, cocky guy who had no depth or dimension beyond his role as the top.

If I didn’t know who Quinn really was, his Stone character would be the perfect fantasy. Hot, toppy, and the stamina and skill of a machine were high on most people’s porn wishlists, but those weren’t my thing.

Maybe I’d find his scenes more enjoyable if they’d been with men, but I doubted it. I gravitated toward amateur porn and preferred scenes with lots of foreplay and kissing. The sex part was secondary for me, which was why I liked watching real-life couples.

Stone’s scenes had minimal kissing, and even then it was that overaccentuated sloppy kissing that was all tongue and no heat. The foreplay was singularly focused on the female model, and most of the camera angles only showed him from the chest down.

He really was just a walking dildo.

Not wanting to see any more, I went back to my search and opened his OnlyFans. Most of his content was behind the paywall, but he had a few freebies available.

One was a video of him dancing in the shower. The lighting was dark red, and the steam from the water gave the shot an ethereal look. I couldn’t tell if someone filmed it for him or if he was that skilled at editing, but the camera never panned lower than the top of his pubic hair as he rolled his body in sensual waves and made the sexiest bedroom eyes I’d ever seen.

That video was hot as hell, and it was the lack of nudity that brought it to the next level.

He also had a couple of short jerk-off videos that cut off before the cumshot that were hot, but it was still like watching a different person.

He knew how to work the camera, and he looked like a wet dream brought to life, but those videos didn’t stir more than the barest interest in me.

With a sigh, I shut down my phone and carefully placed it on the bedside table, making sure not to disturb any of my bedmates.

I was wildly attracted to Quinn in real life. Our friendship had dulled my feelings, so they were more of an abstract thing and not the type that reduced me to a bumbling mess like when we’d first met. That was a problem, but at least I didn’t have to worry about being tempted to use his content for its intended purpose. That would be wrong on so many levels.

He might not care that I could see his videos, but jerking off to my friend on the internet didn’t sit right with me.

Trrrr. Trrrr. Trrrr.

Curiously, I grabbed my phone and checked my notifications. Who was texting me at this hour?

My mouth went dry when I saw Quinn’s name.

There was no way he could know I’d just finished looking at his content, but guilt still prickled at me as I opened my texts.

Quinn: I can’t remember if you said the dress code for the wedding is black tie or business

Tristan: it’s black tie. Do you have a tux? I can rent one for you if you don’t

Quinn: I’ve got one. I should probably make sure it still fits tho. It’s been a few years since I wore it

Tristan: are you sure you still want to go with me?

Quinn: of course

Quinn: why?

Tristan: I just don’t want you to feel like you have to if that was a wine offer

Quinn: it wasn’t a wine offer. I was tipsy last night but that doesn’t change anything

Quinn: remember how you told me you feel guilty accepting help? This isn’t me offering to help you. This is me offering to go to a wedding with you so we can have fun and make Simon’s head explode

Tristan: thanks. I’m trying to get better about the whole ‘my existence is a burden’ thing

Quinn: it takes time to unlearn that kind of training. You’ll get there.

Tristan: one step at a time, right?

Quinn: exactly

Quinn: how did you feel today?

Tristan: are you asking if I was hung over?

Quinn: maybe

Tristan: I was fine. Little bit of a struggle to get out of bed but a big breakfast and extra coffee was enough to get me back on track

Tristan: Please make sure I eat while I drink at the wedding. No one wants to see sloppy Tristan

Quinn: I mean, I kinda do

He sent one of the silly-faced emoji, the one where it was winking and had its tongue out.

Tristan: how about we save that for a night where I don’t have to worry about not punching my ex in the face if he gets too uppity

Quinn: deal

Quinn: how do you feel about arriving at the wedding in style?

Tristan: what do you mean?

Quinn: a limo makes a bigger statement than an Uber

Tristan: it would. I can look into renting one

Quinn: I’ve got us covered

Tristan: you do?

Quinn: I do. My friend Nick’s bf has a fleet of cars and he said Evan would be happy to lend us one of his limos so we can really stick it to your ex. The only catch is Nick will be in the car on the way there so he can get all the tea, his words

Tristan: really? That would be perfect.

Quinn: great. Can you send me the timings and address so Nick can pass the info on?

Tristan: I’ll send you a screenshot of the invitation. Do you need it now? I’m in bed but I can get up

Quinn: tomorrow is fine. I’m guessing you need to get to sleep?

Tristan: unfortunately

Quinn: have a good night doc

Tristan: goodnight

I waited to see if he’d write more but put my phone back on the bedside table when my screen stayed dark.

Quinn and I were okay, and I was now looking forward to Saturday when, before, it had been a giant stressful deadline looming over me.

Maybe things were finally looking up for me.