11. Tristan
The rideback to our street was the longest sixty minutes of my life. Unlike when we’d gotten a ride from Nick, we couldn’t talk freely in front of the Uber driver. Luckily they seemed to sense we weren’t in the mood to chat, and we spent the ride listening to music and staring out the windows.
We didn’t speak until we were on the sidewalk and the Uber was driving away.
“Do you want to go to your place or mine?” Quinn asked.
“Yours.”
He motioned for me to follow him. I did, trailing behind him like a kid on their way to the principal’s office.
What had we done? What had I done?
Trying not to let my anxiety take over, I focused on each step so I didn’t face-plant and ruin my tux on top of destroying our friendship.
Wordlessly, Quinn unlocked his door and waved me inside. I followed him into his giant great room and stood awkwardly as he unbuttoned his tux jacket.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked. God, could I sound any more pathetic?
“No.” He stripped off the jacket and tossed it over the back of his easy chair. “Not even a little.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He raked one hand through his hair, messing up the perfectly styled strands and looking even sexier with the disheveled look he had going on. “I’m just… I’m processing a lot of stuff right now.” He waved to the couch. “Sit. Please. We need to talk about this.”
I perched on the edge of the couch. My bow tie felt like a noose around my neck. Distractedly, I tugged the knot free and let the ends hang down over my chest.
Quinn sank onto the couch and yanked on his tie to undo it, his movements jerky and rough.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He sighed and leaned back against the couch, finally meeting my eyes. “Relax, Tris. This is a me thing. Nothing that’s going on in my head is about you.”
“I still feel bad.”
“Don’t. Please. I know it’s your default to try and defuse situations by accepting blame for things that aren’t your responsibility, but you don’t have to do that with me.” He rubbed his hands against his thighs. “I don’t want you to do that with me. I’m responsible for my actions and my feelings. Not you, okay?”
I nodded and fiddled with my jacket buttons.
“You know how I have ADHD?”
I nodded again. He’d told me about his childhood diagnosis but hadn’t really said much about it beyond that.
“My meds wore off hours ago and I’ve had a few drinks, so my brain is spinning. I can usually shut out the noise and chaos, but it’s really loud right now.”
A little of the tension in my shoulders faded at his words and the sincerity in his tone.
“I’m cycling through all these memories, trying to find dots to connect.” He shot me a pleading look. “I know it sounds weird, but that’s how my brain works. I like patterns and connecting data points to draw conclusions from. It helps me explain and understand things. I don’t want to be thinking about any of this right now, but I can’t stop.”
“It’s okay,” I said softly, hoping to soothe him. “Will talking it out help?”
I was confused as hell about what happened, but it had to be ten times worse for him. I already knew Quinn processed things better after he discussed them. I could put my own insecurities aside and be there for him.
He blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Knowing he needed a friend helped calm the last of my anxiety. I busied myself with pulling off my tux jacket, giving him a chance to organize his thoughts.
“I think part of what’s fucking with me the most is how I wasn’t able to keep to character.” He dropped his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I know that sounds stupid considering everything, but I’m an actor. I’ve never had issues keeping myself separated from whatever role I’m playing. But that barrier, that wall between reality and acting, wasn’t enough tonight. And I know I shouldn’t be focused on that of all things, but it’s making me question all sorts of stuff.”
“Like what?” I asked, giving him an opening to keep talking.
“Just old memories. My dad was the first person to call me a chameleon, but that’s pretty much what I’ve been my entire life. I fill the role I think people want me to, and I adapt my behavior accordingly. It’s not an act, not really. It’s more like I only show them the parts of me I think they can handle. The parts they want to see.”
He rubbed his hands on his thighs again. I’d noticed he did that when he was distressed.
“I’m so used to being someone else I sometimes feel like who I really am gets lost in the shuffle. Online, I’m Stone the porn star. When I dance, I’m Stone the stripper and sex worker. When I’m in the business world, I’m Mr. Reynolds the contractor. The only time I’m truly myself is with my friends and my family. Everyone else sees one of my masks. They see the version of me I think would be the most palatable for them. The version they can handle.”
“That sounds lonely.”
He nodded ruefully and looked at me, his eyes filled with a mess of emotions, the prominent one being sadness. “It is. I don’t like to complain because I’ve lived a pretty privileged life compared to a lot of people, but my dad and grandparents were the only people who ever let me be myself when I was a kid. Everyone else made me feel like there was something wrong with me because I was different, and all the therapy I did that was supposed to help me with my ADHD was basically just behavior modification. It didn’t give me the tools to help me navigate life as a neurodivergent kid. It just taught me ways to force myself to fit into a neurotypical world and suppress all the things I struggled with.”
He made a weird sound, sort of a laugh, but not really. “I can’t even keep my focus enough to talk about what’s important here, and instead I’m trauma dumping about shit I should have gotten over years ago.”
“You’re not trauma dumping. I know how your brain works, Quinn. I know you need to verbalize what you’re thinking so you can get your data points and make those connections. You need to start at the beginning so you can see the whole picture and the entire pattern. I’m a scientist, I get it. You’re fine.”
“Thanks, Tris.” He sighed and slumped against the couch. “Did I ever tell you how my dad and stepdad got together?”
“Not specifically. You told me they were best friends before they started dating.”
“They were. And they were both straight when they met.” He shot me a lopsided grin. “Or at least that’s what they thought.”
“Really?”
“Yup. And now I’m wondering if I was wrong about my sexuality this whole time too. This probably sounds crazy, but I’ve always felt like I’m somewhere on the demi spectrum.”
My thoughts stuttered at that.
He snort-laughed at my expression. “Yeah, I know. A porn star who identifies as demi is pretty insane.”
“No, it’s not.” I cycled through some of the things he’d said over the past few months. “You already told me how you can separate sex from intimacy. Being able to perform with strangers isn’t a measure of your sexuality. You said you weren’t attracted to your scene partners but were able to do the scenes because you were acting. That makes sense if you’re demi.”
“I’m glad you get it, because I barely do.” He shot me a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “The few times I’ve felt genuine attraction to someone was after being friends with them. That’s how all my relationships evolved, from friends to more. All three of them.” This time, his laugh was self-deprecating.
Quinn hadn’t told me much about his dating life, only that he hadn’t had a serious relationship since before he started filming porn.
“I’ve always just accepted that there was something wrong with me. That I’m wired differently. I can have sex with people I’m not attracted to because I’m playing a character. But in my real life, I hardly ever feel any sort of arousal or attraction to anyone. I haven’t even had sex since my last scene. You’re literally the only person who’s gotten my dick up in three years.”
My jaw dropped as I gaped at him.
“And what’s freaking me out isn’t that we kissed or that I liked it, it’s how I’m pretty sure the attraction I’m feeling was always there. That’s what’s messing with me. I have no idea if I willfully ignored how I felt or if I really couldn’t see that it was there. And I have that added bonus of trying to figure out if being a chameleon and never truly allowing myself to drop my guard is the reason I’m twenty-eight and just now realizing I’m not just demi, but bi.”
“I can’t really understand what you’re going through,” I said softly. “But I kind of understand what you mean about the chameleon thing and wondering if it’s why you’re only now figuring out who you are.”
His gaze went hopeful.
“I kind of lost myself when I was in college. I never really felt like I fit in with anyone growing up. Part of it was having to hide my sexuality, and part of it was just being that weird kid no one really knew what to do with. I knew I was only attracted to people who identified as male in middle school, but that was twenty-five years ago, and coming out wasn’t an option. So I kind of bounced around from friend group to friend group and fell into whatever role they wanted me to be. I was a science nerd, the class clown, a four-season athlete, and the quirky, artsy kid. But I’m not an actor, so I was never able to keep up the pretenses, and I lost a lot of friends when the facade cracked and bits of my real personality came through.
“It’s one of the reasons Simon was able to trap me. He was one of the only people in years who didn’t drop me when I stopped holding back. That’s the thing about us weirdos. People like us in theory, but not so much when we act like weirdos and do weirdo stuff.”
“Yeah. I hear you on that. Team weirdo all the way over here.”
“It sounds like the same thing happened to you,” I continued. “You spent so long being rejected for who you are that you slipped into these personas to protect yourself.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.” He undid the top two buttons on his shirt. “It helps knowing you went through something similar. I’ve spent so much time trying to unravel all these personas to figure out who I truly am, and just when I think I have a handle on it, I end up having a bi—or is it a demi? Whatever it is—awakening in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a fancy wedding.” He huffed out a laugh. “And now I’m babbling incoherently and trauma dumping about all sorts of stuff that has nothing to do with what happened when I’m sure you’re just as confused about everything as I am.”
“You’re fine, Quinn. You know how you always tell me I’m safe with you when I have my incoherent babbles?”
He nodded, his expression seeking and so damn needy.
“You’re safe with me too. I’m your friend, first and foremost. You never have to hold back or censor yourself around me. Okay?”
He nodded again, his entire body relaxing at my words.
“And it’s normal to freak about a sudden shift in your sexuality. Or at least your understanding of it.”
“But that’s not freaking me out. Not even a little bit. It’s everything else that comes with the big awakening. And I have no idea what to do about it.”
“You don’t have to do anything about it. Not if you don’t want to.”
“And if I want to?” He held my gaze.
“You do?”
He nodded. “What do you want?”
I paused, not quite sure what he meant by that.
“I don’t want to lose you as a friend.” He rubbed his hand through his hair tiredly. “And neither of us is looking for anything, but I don’t know if I can just put these feelings away now that I know what they are. And I have no idea where your head is at or what you’re thinking, so all my turmoil could be for nothing.” He chuckled, but it was the same one he used when he pretended he was fine.
“I’m not sure where my head is at,” I said honestly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you too. That I haven’t been attracted to you this whole time. But I also value your friendship and care about you as a person. And things are complicated.” I sighed and leaned back against the couch. “I’m newly divorced, I’m still a mess from all the shit my ex put me through, and I have a son who will always be my first priority.”
“Yeah. I was thinking about that too.” He nodded slowly, his eyes sad. “Another gift of ADHD and always having multiple streams of thought going through my head at any given moment. Your life is way more complicated than mine. And you have to factor in my past when you’re figuring stuff out, so that just makes it even more complicated.”
“Your past isn’t an issue. I don’t care about that.”
“Really?” He blinked like a confused owl. “How can it not bother you?”
“Because it’s in the past, and it has nothing to do with me?” I shrugged. “I’m an elder millennial. I’m so used to being blamed for everything. I don’t have the time or the energy to worry about stuff like that.”
His expression shifted back to that seeking, needy one. He’d dropped enough comments over the past few months that I knew his time in porn, and even his current solo work, had caused a lot of issues for him when it came to any sort of interpersonal relationship. I needed him to understand that it wasn’t and would never be a problem for me.
“And I’ve never really subscribed to the whole ‘sex is sacred’ narrative,” I continued. “Intimacy isn’t sex, and for me, intimacy is something I can only share with someone I care about. But sex is a physiological function. Friction equals blood flow, which creates an erection, and eventually an orgasm. I’m a scientist, and my expertise is animal medicine and animal behavior. Nature is crazy if you actually deep dive into it, so things like polyamory or triads or using sex as a tool for capitalism aren’t crazy or unnatural concepts to me. They make sense if you look at science and remember that humans are animals too. I’m not wired to have sex with strangers or be in an emotionally intimate relationship with more than one person, but that doesn’t mean it’s not natural for other people.”
“It really doesn’t bother you?” he asked, or rather, croaked.
Seeing this side of Quinn was strange. He was always so optimistic and the one helping me work through my insecurities. How many people did he have in his life that he could talk to about this stuff? How many times had he been hurt by people he thought cared about him because they couldn’t wrap their heads around separating Quinn from Stone?
“Nope. I watched some of your scenes the other night.”
He braced like he expected me to say something horrible. “What did you think?”
“They were exactly what you said and didn’t do anything for me.”
His eyes bugged out comically.
“But,” I rushed on, needing to make sure I got my full point across. “That’s because all I could see was Stone. You were playing a part. I get how other people might lust after that, but I know you. I know who you really are. That’s the person I’m attracted to. That’s the man I wanted on my arm tonight, the man who rocked my world and gave me the best kiss of my life.”
I was taking a huge chance by showing all my cards, but Quinn deserved to hear the truth after everything he’d shared. He needed all the facts to make an informed decision about what he wanted.
“I will say that your dancing does it for me. That video you have up on your OnlyFans with the red lighting? That one is hot as hell. But you’re an actor. Your scenes and solo stuff are work. I’m divorced. Does it bother you that I was married for so long? That I’m a single dad?”
“Of course not. None of that has anything to do with me.”
“That’s how I feel about your sex work. It’s your job, and it has nothing to do with me.”
Relief shone in his eyes. “You have no idea how twisted up I’ve been about that.”
“Don’t be. I promise it’s not an issue for me. It’s kinda cool that I know an actual influencer, and I get to be friends with someone famous.”
“So that’s what we are, friends?”
“Yes. But we don’t have to just be friends.”
I had no idea where my confidence or nerve was coming from, but I was rolling with it.
Things with Quinn were going to be complicated, no matter what we decided. Mixing sex into our friendship was probably one of the stupidest things we could do, but I was tired of always doing the smart thing.
I wanted Quinn, and amazingly, he wanted me.
But more than that, I trusted him.
I hadn’t even considered being with anyone since Simon left. I still had a sex drive and desires, but the thought of dating and hooking up with strangers again made my skin crawl.
I’d resigned myself to being lonely and focusing on my son and our future, but what if this was the answer to my problems?
I trusted Quinn, and I was comfortable with him. As long as we were open and honest with each other, he’d be the perfect person to get back on the horse with, so to speak.
Something he said earlier popped back into my thoughts.
“Wait. You said you haven’t been with anyone since you filmed your last scene?” I asked, needing to make sure I’d heard him right.
“Nope.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. “And not while I was filming either.”
My brain did another little stutter.
“Hard to believe, huh?” His smirk intensified, but I could see the pain in his eyes. How many people had called him a liar because they didn’t understand who he was?
“No. Not when I think about it. I can only imagine how difficult it is to date or have any sort of relationship when you’re a sex worker. But even without all that, if you say it, I believe it. You don’t need to justify your past to me. You don’t need to explain anything.”
“I’m bad for that.” He relaxed, exhaustion clouding his features. “Overexplaining things. My dad says I do it because I’m trying to add context to situations, like I don’t believe that people could ever accept me without having all the facts or take me at my word.”
“Sounds like a trauma response.”
“Ding ding ding.” He pretended to ring an imaginary bell. “There I go again, hijacking the conversation when we were talking about you and how you’re feeling about everything.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed heavily. “I really wish I could shut my brain up right now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” He arched one eyebrow at me. “You’re fine?”
I nodded. “Yup. I’m gay, remember? Kissing men is kind of my thing. Kissing my best friend, who I thought was straight, at another friend’s wedding in front of my asshole ex is a new experience, but the endgame is the same.”
“I’m your best friend?” he asked, his voice small.
“You are. I don’t have a lot of people in my life, so I get it if I’m not yours?—”
“You are.” He huffed out a laugh. “I feel like a teenager again, but I didn’t want to say anything in case you weren’t there and it made things awkward between us.”
“So you kissed me instead?” I grinned. “That’s totally less awkward than calling me your bestie.”
“You’re the chillest person I’ve ever met.” Quinn smiled affectionately. “Even with your anxiety. You really do just roll with things unless they trigger your papa bear instincts.”
“That’s pretty much my vibe.” I undid the top button on my dress shirt. “Just a weirdo who prefers science over social constructs. But mess with my kid or family, and I will end you without a second thought.”
“You and my dad would get along.”
“I don’t know how to take that,” I said honestly.
He grinned. “It’s not a bad thing. My dad is my dad, obviously, but he’s also another queer man who raised a son alone and prefers science over social constructs. He’s basically like an older version of me.”
“He sounds like a good man and a great dad.”
“The best dad.”
“Can I—never mind.” I snapped my mouth shut.
“Can you what?” He tilted his head curiously.
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I think we’re past censoring ourselves, Doc.”
I bit my lip. It felt wrong to ask for more when he’d already shared so much.
“Go ahead. I’m an open book.”
“It’s about your mother.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask about her. Most people crack as soon as they find out I was raised by a teen dad.”
“I didn’t want to pry.”
“Asking isn’t prying. But I’ll save you the trouble of having to figure out how to ask. She and my dad had a one-time thing, and she got pregnant. She wasn’t ready to be a parent, but she chose to have me. My dad had two options: sign over his rights so I could be put up for adoption or take full custody of me.”
“He chose custody?”
Quinn nodded. “My grandparents supported us while he finished high school and figured out what he wanted to do with his life. We stayed with them until I was five.”
“Do you have contact with your mom?”
“Not a lot of contact. I get letters from her a couple times a year giving me updates about her life, and I send her letters, albeit heavily censored ones.” He chuckled. “But I don’t really consider her my mother. I understand why she made the choice she did, and I don’t judge her for it. Even as a kid, I didn’t really feel like I was missing anything because I had my dad and my grandparents. Now I have my dad, my stepdad, and my stepbrothers. I have an awesome family, just not a traditional one.”
“I imagine you have to censor a lot from your family.”
He grinned mischievously. “You’d think, but nope.”
“Your family knows you strip?”
“They know everything. My studio work, my solo stuff. Stripping.” He grinned wider. “My parents are the most chill people you’ll ever meet. I’m not even the only sex worker in the family.”
I froze as my mind stuttered again.
“You look like you’re buffering.” He snickered. “My stepbrother, Jesse, is an escort.”
“An escort?” I repeated dumbly.
“Yup.” He looked like a cat who’d just gotten hold of a particularly elusive canary. “A full-service one.”
“Like for women?”
“Men. Remember when I told you how most of the people in my life are queer? It’s pretty much everyone. My parents, my stepbrother, and almost all my friends at the club. Although it was a bit of a surprise when the twins hooked up with their boyfriends because neither knew they were queer at the time.”
“I’m still stuck on your stepbrother being an escort. And your parents are okay with that?”
“They worry about him, obviously. But they know he’s careful, and they support him.”
I tried to picture how I’d react if an adult Leo told me he wanted to get into sex work. The fear of something happening to him was there, but I liked to think I was rational enough to be like Quinn’s parents and support my son in all his choices.
“I forgot to ask if Kim is mad.”
“Mad?” I asked.
“That we left early.”
“No, not at all. She thinks we left because we couldn’t wait until the end of the reception for a little—” I did my best impression of cheesy sex music and waggled my eyebrows at him.
Quinn burst out laughing. “Was that supposed to be sexy?”
“It wasn’t?” I pretended to be shocked.
His smile faded. “So, what do we do now?”
“You mean about this?” I waved my hand between us.
He nodded.
“I don’t know. What do you want?”
He bit his lip. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look shy about something.
“We have two options,” I said when he didn’t answer. “We can either ignore things and pretend tonight was a fluke of happenstance. Or we can explore it.”
“What would that look like to you? Exploring it?” He chewed his lip nervously.
“I’m not sure. Like I said before, my life is complicated. I’m not looking for anything serious, and I have more issues than a periodical, but a fling between friends doesn’t have to be complicated.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes calculating. “That’s true.”
“I’ve never done a friends-with-benefits thing, and honestly, I don’t think I can. Definitely not with you. We’re already too close to try to pretend like feelings won’t be involved.”
“Yeah, that ship sailed a while ago,” he agreed. “What about a casual thing? Or a low-key one? Casual makes it seem like it’s just about sex.”
“Low-key sounds good. I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace to be making any firm decisions about what that will look like. But I think that’s best for both of us.”
“I think so too.” He smiled. “I guess our fake date wasn’t all that fake after all.”
“I guess not.” I chuckled. “Tonight has been a rollercoaster.”
“It really has.” He scrubbed his hand through his messy hair.
“How’s your head?”
“Less busy, but still loud as fuck.” He shot me a wry smile.
“Will you be able to sleep tonight?”
“Probably not, but what else is new. Gotta love ADHD brain and sleep disorders.”
“What’s the name of the disorder you have again? I think Lydia has it, or something like it.”
“Delayed sleep phase disorder.”
I’d done some cursory research when Quinn told me about it but hadn’t gone too in-depth. From what I’d read, the disorder shifted his circadian clock and rhythms, so his natural sleep cycles started in the middle of the night and not the late evening like most people. It went beyond just being a night owl or enjoying staying up late and made it extremely difficult for him to follow a typical sleep schedule, and sleep aids didn’t work for him either.
My sister struggled with the same issues. I made a mental note to look deeper into it and pass the information on to her so she could do her own research.
We sat there in silence for a few beats.
“I guess I’ll see you later?” Quinn asked, looking shy again.
Something about his shyness pushed all my buttons. It showed how much he trusted me that he wasn’t hiding his vulnerability.
I was about to ask if he wanted to hang out tomorrow but paused. “Do you have that event at the club tomorrow night? And aren’t you doing something for your business tomorrow too?”
He nodded. “My dad and I are checking out some office spaces. The event is an early one. I’ll be off at eleven.” He stood and brushed his hands off on his thighs.
“Right when I’m supposed to be fast asleep.” I stood and draped my discarded jacket over my arm.
“Yeah. I’m not looking forward to flipping to big people hours.” He wrinkled his nose. “Of course I’d pick a new career where getting up at the ass crack of dawn is normal.”
“The ass crack of dawn?” I spluttered. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“The twins taught me that one. I like it.”
“Now I’m picturing a sunrise, but the sun looks like a giant ass.”
He grinned. “Sorry, not sorry.”
“I should go.” I waved half-heartedly toward his front door.
“Yeah. It’s late.” His eyes fell to my mouth.
“Would I be reading the room wrong if I kissed you goodbye?” I asked, taking the lead.
Rather than answer, he closed the distance between us in two steps.
Gently, he cupped my cheeks, his skin soft and warm against mine. A shiver of anticipation tickled my chest as he leaned in.
His kiss was soft and sweet as he sipped at my lips.
I loved that his instinct wasn’t to go hard or deep right off the bat. How he was confident enough to kiss me but still had an air of shyness about him.
The contrast between Quinn and Stone was stark, and I was grinning like a fool when he pulled away.
“What?” he asked, a playful smile on his lips.
“Nothing. I just like kissing you.”
He pressed another quick peck against my mouth. “I like kissing you too.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hands and stepped back. “Night, Doc.”
“Night.”
Half in a daze at everything that had happened in the past few hours, I left Quinn’s and headed home.
Tonight had been a whirlwind. I’d started the night by going on a fake date with my best friend, and now said best friend and I were casually dating.
This was probably a terrible idea that would implode our friendship, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this was exactly what we both needed to break the stranglehold our pasts still had on us.