9. Tristan
“Everyone is staring at us,”I whispered to Quinn as we stood in the receiving line to congratulate the bride and groom.
“Good. That’s what we want.” Quinn slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer so he could lean in and whisper in my ear. “Don’t look now, but Asshole McDouchenozzle is trying to burn a hole in the back of your head with all the glaring he’s doing.”
“Really? Where is he?” I tried to ignore the way his breath tickled my skin while simultaneously resisting the urge to crane my head around and seek Simon out.
“He’s on our six. He just got in line with discount Tristan.”
I snickered to cover up the shiver of awareness dancing up my spine.
The wedding itself was over, and we were all in the reception hall. Kim and Brian had done their grand entrance, which included a choreographed dance, a flash mob with their bridal party and groomsmen, and a champagne toast.
Now we were doing the receiving line while the venue staff wandered around, passing out drinks and carrying trays laden with finger food.
We’d managed to avoid Simon and Jace during the ceremony, but I hadn’t missed how pretty much every person I knew had made a point of seeking us out so they could be introduced to Quinn.
“Pretend I’m saying something dirty,” Quinn whispered, the edges of his lips brushing my ear. I shivered at the sensation, my neck and cheeks heating. My ears were one of my hot spots. I didn’t need to pretend he was turning me on. “Yeah, like that. Really play it up.” He pressed his nose against my cheek, softly nuzzling my skin.
I swallowed hard when he pulled away. We’d talked about PDA during our planning, and I’d given Quinn the green light to do whatever he was comfortable with, but I’d forgotten he was, first and foremost, an actor.
I’d expected some light touches like a hand on my back or leg, even some handholding. That barely scraped the surface of his PDA. He was fully committed to the role of my doting and attentive date. I just had to keep my libido in check and remind my affection-starved body that he was in character and none of this was real.
The line moved forward as a crowd of people wandered away from where Kim and Brian stood, putting us next.
We waited as the bride and groom said hello and accepted the congratulations from the couple in front of us.
“Tris!” Kim’s eyes lit up as we stepped forward. “I’m so glad you came.” She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. “Bravo on the date,” she whispered mid-hug. “He’s gorgeous.”
I hugged her back as Quinn shook hands with Brian and offered his congratulations. “You look beautiful. Everything about tonight is perfect.”
She beamed like the radiant bride she was. “Thanks. I’m never planning anything like this ever again, but it was worth it.” She smiled at Brian.
He looked utterly starstruck as he beamed back at her. Something in my gut twisted. No one had ever looked at me like that, not even my husband.
“Congratulations.” Quinn offered Kim his hand. “Your dress is stunning. Blush is such an underrated color.”
Kim’s grin widened as she shook his hand. “Thank you. I wanted something different, you know?”
“Absolutely. White is great, but you don’t want great. You want perfection. And you’ve achieved it.”
“Oh, you’re a charmer.” She giggled and flicked her gaze to me. “Tris is a lucky man.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Quinn wrapped his arm around my waist casually, like he wasn’t even aware he was touching me. “We’ll let you get to the rest of your line so you can finally enjoy your reception.”
Kim met my gaze as Brian and Quinn shook hands again. “Oh my god,” she mouthed and waved her hand like it was a fan. “So hot.” She nodded to Quinn, being about as subtle as a brick to the face.
He gave them both another gracious smile, then tugged me toward the bar. “I’d say that went well,” he said when we were out of earshot.
“I’d say so.” I let him sweep me along, not hating all the stares we were getting.
Usually people stared at me because I was doing something weird or being my awkward self, and not because I had a gorgeous man on my arm.
The positive attention was nice.
“Do you want a glass of wine or something from the bar?” he asked.
“The bar. Remember what happens when I drink wine? Sloppy Tristan isn’t allowed to come out and play tonight.”
He laughed and brought me up to the bar, squeezing us between people. Almost like he’d been summoned, one of the bartenders immediately looked up and came to stand in front of us to take our order.
Was this what pretty privilege felt like? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten served at a bar without having to wait for ages to be noticed.
When we had our drinks in hand, Quinn steered me toward an open corner where small groups of people were congregating while we waited for the dinner to start.
We hadn’t even stopped walking when one of the paralegals at Simon’s firm, who hadn’t spoken a single word to me since my marriage ended, hurried over to say hello, her eyes wide as she stammered and giggled at everything Quinn said.
Within minutes, a crowd of people stood around us, each vying for Quinn’s attention and trying to figure out exactly what we were to each other without explicitly asking.
One of the best things about having Quinn as my date was I didn’t have to do any of the talking. People weren’t interested in me, and he was more than capable of keeping them engaged as he turned his charm up to one thousand.
He seamlessly flipped between conversations with the various guests. He talked about landmark cases with the attorneys and, in the next breath, discussed the latest trends in the stock market with the corporate folks in attendance. He traded recipes with some of the spouses and talked home improvements with everyone who asked for advice or recommendations. He treated everyone with the same level of respect, whether they were a guest or part of the staff.
All I had to do was stand there and listen. And try not to combust every time he touched me. Which he did. A lot.
When it was time to start the meal, we found our seats. Kim had put us at a table with our old college friends. Simon was on the other side of the room at a table with some of his and Brian’s colleagues.
Now that I was around people I knew, I was able to relax and join in on the conversations. We laughed, joked, and traded stories about our college days as we caught up on what had been going on in each other’s lives.
I used to spend every party or event sitting with Simon’s friends or colleagues and daydreaming while they talked business or about things that didn’t interest me. Being with my friends and not having to worry about what I said or did was some of the most fun I’d had in forever.
When the dinner was over and it was time for the party to start, some of my earlier trepidation came back.
“You okay?” Quinn handed me a glass of water.
“I’ll be fine.” I sipped the water. “Thanks.”
“You sure you’re okay? You look pensive.”
“It’s just a lot of peopleing after so long of not going to things.”
“Are you getting overstimulated?” He gently rubbed my back.
“A little.” I flushed, but this time out of embarrassment. The chaos that came with working in a vet clinic or being a parent didn’t bother me, but spending hours at business events or parties drained my social battery, and I sometimes needed to step away to recenter so I didn’t get anxious. I’d told Quinn about this, but it was the first time he saw it in real time. “It’s fine. Just loud. And warm.”
He kept rubbing my back. I reminded myself he was doing it to make Simon jealous and my dick needed to calm the fuck down and not wake up.
“Let’s find somewhere quiet for a bit.” His face was full of concern.
I nodded and let him lead me out of the ballroom. The near silence that surrounded us as we walked down the hall helped calm my building anxiety.
He took me to a secluded corner near a set of ornate doors. He tugged on the doors, but they didn’t budge.
“Too bad.” He let go of the handles. “I was hoping these would be open. The balcony is the perfect place to hide, and the fresh air would probably help more than the quiet.”
“You’ve been here before?” I asked, taking another sip of the cool water. I’d always been sensitive to the heat, and the ballroom didn’t have the greatest ventilation, which only added to my discomfort.
“A few years ago.” He leaned one shoulder against the wall in a casual pose. “For a fundraiser.”
“A fundraiser?”
“A charity auction.” He smiled wryly. “That was an experience.”
“A bad one?”
He nodded and kicked his dress shoe against the shiny floor. “People tend to forget that sex workers are humans and we don’t like being groped any more than the next person. That’s one of the reasons I stopped doing any sort of appearances other than featured dance spots. At least at the end of a set, I’m prepared for the touching, and I have a bouncer to step in if people push my boundaries.” He shrugged, like he was shrugging off the memories.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with that. That anyone has to deal with unwanted touching.”
“You get used to it.” He shrugged again, but I could see a mess of emotions in his eyes that suggested it was a big deal. “So, are you having fun? Outside of the noise and heat?” he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
I nodded and drank more of the water. “This is the first time in forever I’ve had any sort of fun at one of these things. I used to spend every party or event trailing behind Simon and being ignored while he networked and made connections. Everything was a business opportunity for him, and he could never just enjoy whatever was going on and relax. I always felt invisible, like no one would notice if I walked away or just didn’t exist.”
“You know, the more you tell me about Asshole McDouchenozzle, the more I hate him. He’s exactly what’s wrong with society.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “And with dating culture. I wonder if half the people I see coupled up even like their partners. The way some people treat or talk about the person they’re supposed to love more than anyone really makes you wonder if they’re with them because we’ve been trained to believe it’s better to be miserable in a couple than it is to be happy alone.”
My stomach soured, and I had to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.
“It’s just messed up that our entire society is centered around dating and finding a long-term partner so you can follow some arbitrary timeline that doesn’t fit with today’s world. And the messaging around dating culture is so toxic now. I just don’t understand why being single is so wrong. Why being happy and having friends and focusing on building the life you want for yourself is so taboo.”
Quinn had just summed up everything I’d realized about my marriage after it ended. Our relationship had been real for me, but it had only been convenient for Simon. He’d married me because I was there and he wanted to get married, not because he wanted to be married to me.
“Tris?” Quinn asked softly. “You okay?”
I nodded, only then realizing I’d been staring at the floor unseeingly. “Did I tell you that Simon never even proposed to me?”
“He didn’t?” Quinn gently pried the glass of water out of my hand. “Probably not the best idea to be squeezing that.” He held out his other hand. “This is better. Less risk of injury.”
Needing some extra support, I slipped my hand into his.
“He didn’t propose to you?” Quinn asked, running his thumb over my knuckles.
“Nope. He wasn’t the romantic type. It wasn’t so bad in the beginning because he at least pretended like he enjoyed my company, but that ended as soon as Leo was born. We were together for fourteen years, and in that time, he never bought me a gift.”
“Are you serious? Not even once?”
“Nope. He gave me cash on my birthday and at Christmas so I could buy whatever I wanted, but we had joint finances, so he was basically giving me my own money to spend. Every Christmas morning I’d sit there and watch Leo open his presents, see Simon open his stocking, and mine would be empty. Opening a stocking that you filled yourself isn’t exactly a great time, but I just stopped expecting anything and pretended it didn’t bother me because it was easier than begging my husband to put even an iota of effort into me. It was easier to just be lonely than keep begging the man I married to pay attention to me or spend time with me.”
Quinn put the glass of water on a nearby table and gently took my other hand.
“I didn’t see it then, but Simon chose me because I was convenient. We met when I was twenty-three and in a bad place. I’d just started vet school and was struggling financially. My family was pressuring me to settle down, and I was vulnerable. Then he came along and love-bombed me, but not with affection, if you can believe it. He used attention. He smothered me with it and made me believe he cared about me, but it was always conditional on me falling in line and fitting into his plans and his life. The biggest red flag was how he moved me into his condo after three months together but didn’t tell me he loved me for another year. I had to earn every crumb of affection, but there was hell to pay the second I held anything back.”
Quinn’s expression went from sympathetic to angry, then back.
“I didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships when I met him, and I mistook attention for affection. I thought financially supporting me while I was in school was the same as him showing he cared. I assumed he had to love me if he was putting time and money into my future.” I huffed out a laugh, but even I could hear that it was flat and devoid of any emotion. “But yeah. The proposal that never was. It happened the night after I graduated from vet school. We were sitting in the living room watching a show together, and after the credits rolled, he looked over at me and said, ‘It’s time.’”
“It’s time?”
“To move on to the next phase of the plan. That’s what he said when I asked what he meant. That was his entire proposal.”
Quinn’s eyes flashed with something. Indignation?
“Almost fifteen years together, and the only things I have to show for it are a house I hate and sharing custody of my son with a man who still treats us like afterthoughts.”
Gentle pressure on my hands startled me out of the crush of memories that flooded my mind. I shook my head and blinked a few times to clear the cobwebs.
“Sorry.” I smiled wryly. “This is the first wedding I’ve gone to since Simon left me. I thought I was over all that crap, but I guess not.”
“Don’t be sorry, Tris. You never have to be sorry for your feelings. You have every right to be angry about everything. It’s natural that it would be brought to the surface tonight.”
“I can’t wait for the day when I can think of Simon and feel relief that he’s out of my life and not regret the years he stole from me. I spent almost my entire adult life with him, wasted all those years trying to create a life that could never be. I put everything into my marriage, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”
Quinn let go of my hands and gently cupped my cheeks. “You’re more than enough, Tris,” he said, his voice quiet but his tone fierce. “He didn’t deserve you. He’s the asshole. He’s the one who wasn’t enough, who will never be worth even a fraction of what you are. He’s a user and an abuser, and it’s not your fault he preyed on you. He knew exactly what he was doing when he targeted you. None of this is your fault.”
My breath caught at both his words and the way he was touching me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched me with so much tenderness.
He’s being a good friend. He’s stopping you from having a meltdown at your friend’s wedding. I repeated that a few times, unable to move or look away as Quinn’s breathing picked up and he traced his eyes over my face.
I stopped breathing when his gaze lingered on my mouth.
He licked his lips and looked into my eyes. Confusion and what could be heat warred in his expression.
Wait, heat? No. That wasn’t possible.
Was it?
Quinn dropped his hands and stepped back. My heart fell at the same time relief washed over me.
I was in a vulnerable headspace and had just trauma dumped on him. Of course I was seeing things that weren’t there.
“We should...” I motioned behind me. Hopefully he knew that was my way of saying we should get back to the reception.
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “You sure you’re okay?”
“All good. Just needed to get that out of my system. And I think it’s time for another drink.”
“But not wine.” Quinn smiled, the last of the weirdness between us fading.
“Definitely not wine. Sloppy Tristan isn’t allowed to come out and play tonight.”
“I think I need to meet sloppy Tristan.” He held out his arm.
I took it, a little giddy at the old-fashioned move. “You really don’t want that unless you’re in sloppy Quinn mode and can handle the sloppiness. Do you even have a sloppy mode?”
“I have a messy one. Messy Quinn forgets he’s not on stage and randomly breaks out into song. Sometimes he even pulls out old choreo and goes full musical when no one asked.”
“Okay, I have to see that Quinn.” I grinned, feeling lighter and more settled than I had since we arrived at the venue. “I’ve always wanted to live out my teen movie fantasy of having a dance-off or a random musical number happen around me in real life.”
“I’ll serenade you any time you want, Doc. I don’t need booze for that.” He patted my hand as we walked back to the ballroom. “I’ll even dance for you.”
My brain immediately began replaying the shower dance video on his OnlyFans, but I shut those thoughts down fast. That wasn’t what he meant. I needed to stop thinking about how sexy he looked and how much I wanted to be in that shower with him.
Quinn was turning out to be an incredible friend, and I refused to mess things up because I was attracted to him. It wasn’t the first time I’d lusted after a straight guy, and it wouldn’t be the last.