Chapter 40 #2
Colby took a navy hoodie from the stack, not because he liked it more than the red that Bryce had picked out, but because… well, maybe he did. He wasn’t sure yet. It felt like the kind of decision people were allowed to make when they weren’t just trying to survive.
The clerk rang everything up with the bored air of a man who’d done this for too many years, and Bryce handed over a card like it meant nothing at all.
Colby shifted his weight. “Thanks,” he said quietly. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to express what was inside him, but he was pretty certain Bryce wouldn’t want him to say more.
Bryce held his gaze with a warm steadiness that Colby was coming to realize characterized him.
“You don’t owe me,” he said. “Just pay it forward, if you have the chance.”
Colby nodded. That sounded like something he could do.
Bryce nodded back. And then, like he hadn’t just done something extraordinary, he said, “Don’t let Tristan pick your cologne. He once got me something called Wolf Moon for my birthday. I still have the migraine.”
Then he was gone, out the door and back to work, the bell jingling faintly behind him.
Colby turned back to the counter as the clerk packed the last shirt. The bag rustled when Colby took it, and it felt like the tangible promise of a future he hadn’t dared imagine.
The door jingled again, and Tristan strode in, sipping a milkshake and looking smug.
“Hey, Colb. Miss me?”
Colby rolled his eyes, trying to disguise the uprush of excitement he’d felt the instant he’d seen Tristan. “You were gone five minutes.”
“Long enough to get these,” Tristan said, and held up a plastic pack. “Socks. Your current ones all belong to Karl, and they’re terrifying.” Slight overstatement, but Karl did seem to have a thing for dinosaurs on his socks.
Tristan reached for a hoodie in soft gray, the same color as Colby’s eyes.
Colby blinked. “Bryce already—”
“Yeah, but this is the fun part where we get to accessorize.” Tristan turned, already scanning the racks. “You like cowboy hats?”
“I—” And then Colby didn’t know what to say.
“I mean, you don’t have to have one, not if you don’t want,” Tristan said swiftly. “But you’re gonna need it, and also? You’ll look hot as hell in one. Though, to be honest, you look hot in everything. Especially this jacket.”
Colby found himself holding a brown leather jacket.
“Boxers, briefs, or something else?” Tristan paused for a moment. “Tell me if I’m being too much and you want to pick out your own stuff. I just like doing this with you. Shopping, I mean. Not picking out your underwear.”
He shot a look at the clerk, who was busy stocking a shelf, and apparently not listening. “Though, actually, that bit’s awesome too. Maybe you want to model them for me later? Anyway, help me choose sneakers first. Looking the way you do, you must work out a lot, so you’ll need them.”
Colby didn’t say anything. He was too busy trying not to give in to the laughter bubbling up inside him, made of pure happiness. Which became significantly harder when Tristan added a t-shirt reading I Paused My Game To Be Here to the growing pile and said, deadpan, “For formal occasions.”
Colby laughed, letting out some of the feelings fizzing through him. “But how—”
“Matt,” Tristan said, pulling a credit card from his wallet with a little flourish.
“I told him we were going shopping. He handed this over, said you’re drawing from the pack account today, but you’ll be adding to it soon enough.
Money, time, whatever—we all contribute in different ways. That’s how it works.”
Colby looked at the clothes. At the card. At Tristan, beaming like this was the best day of his life. And something shifted, quiet, but deep. He wasn’t just tolerated. He belonged.
TRISTAN
Tristan hadn’t expected coming home with shopping bags to feel like a victory lap, but Colby was grinning as they piled them in Tristan’s room.
They’d had a late lunch at the diner, where Tristan’s favorite customer, Ms. Taylor, had insisted on being introduced to Colby and had asked them to join her.
Once the lunch rush was over, Jason, Riley and Sam had sat down with them. It had turned into an afternoon of laughter. And cupcakes. Lots of cupcakes.
And now, the house was filled with the scent of chili, and it was almost time for dinner. Tristan was giddy with happiness.
They grabbed drinks and headed for the back porch, where Colby dropped onto the steps with a satisfied huff, stretching his legs out like someone who’d just run a marathon. And maybe he had, in his own way.
Tristan hovered a second longer, just watching.
The tension that had threaded constantly through Colby’s shoulders had faded.
Not completely gone, not yet, but eased.
He was sitting there in borrowed jeans and brand-new boots, the gray hoodie in his lap like a trophy, and for the first time, he didn’t look like someone expecting the worst.
“You okay?” Tristan asked, sinking down beside him.
Colby leaned his shoulder into Tristan’s as if it was second nature. “Yeah. You?”
Tristan nodded, bumping back against him. “Yup.”
Chaos chose that moment to crawl into Colby’s lap—half goat, half heat-seeking missile—and Colby just sighed like this was the price of admission.
“You think you can train her to heel?” Tristan asked, watching Chaos make herself comfortable on Colby’s lap. Honestly, he understood the impulse.
“Dunno. I could probably bribe her with toast.”
Chaos began to eat the tag on Colby’s new hoodie.
“Or maybe not,” Tristan muttered as Colby gently—then rather more firmly—dissuaded her.
They sat for a while, shoulders touching, the last warmth of the sinking sun on their faces. The screen door creaked open, and Bryce stepped out, holding a mug of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
He eyed the new hoodie with a smirk. “Not pink? I’m guessing Tris let you pick this one.”
“Excuse you,” Tristan said. “I happen to have excellent taste. And they didn’t have it in pink.”
As he and the arbiter of bad taste squabbled in the sunshine, Colby leaned against Tristan, laughing gently. And Tristan thought this was how it should always be—home, with his two favorite people close by and the rest of the pack not far away. Even the damn goats (trademark Matt) were behaving.
When Bryce went back inside, Colby stayed where he was, warm and solid at Tristan’s side. Tristan rested his head on Colby’s broad shoulder, and their hands found one another’s without hesitation.
The porch was quiet. The sky was softening to a deep indigo.
And for once, Chaos didn’t try to eat anything.