36. Myles
THIRTY-SIX
MYLES
"Congratulations, Myles." The manager smiles, his voice warm and excited. He extends a hand, which I shake. "Welcome to the Little League family."
"Thank you," I say, feeling a surge of excitement. This job—information officer—although not glamorous, is perfect for me right now.
"We think you'll be a great fit for our organization," the man says confidently.
I feel a rush of pride and relief, knowing this is the opportunity I've been waiting for—a chance to reconnect with sports in a meaningful way, while keeping my priorities in check.
"Thank you." My voice is shaky, but genuine.
"Oh, and one more thing." There's a brief pause as he seems to gather his thoughts.
"Your son, Nix, talks about Tristan quite a bit, and we've seen Tristan supporting our team.
" The man looks a bit awkward but well-intentioned.
And I'm more than a little worried about what Nix has been saying about Tristan.
"Nix has mentioned how close he is with Tristan," the man continues, as if reading my mind and trying to allay my fears.
"He sometimes refers to Tristan as his daddy.
I like that. My grandson has two dads, as well.
We just wanted you to know we're working hard to make our sport more diverse and inclusive for everyone. "
"Really?" My heart skips a beat. There's so much to unpack here.
I know Nix loves Tristan, but hearing it from someone else reinforces how important Tristan is to our little family.
It's also comforting to know that the organization I'll be working for is working to cater to the needs of queer folks like me (yeah, I said it; I'm queer).
And the mention of Tristan's name also triggers my yearning for him—the taste of his lips on mine, the heat of his body pressed against me.
I can't forget the passion between us, and how much I love making love to him.
I want so much to regain the closeness we once shared… before I messed everything up again.
"Absolutely." The manager brings me back to reality. "We want everyone to feel welcome here."
"Thank you." I'm touched by his words. "I won't let you down."
"We're very confident in your abilities and the contributions you would make here." He shuffles papers on his desk, signaling the end of our conversation. "You'll start on the first day of next month. We're excited to have you on board."
"Thanks again," I manage to say, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Tristan.
On my way home, I replay the manager's words in my head, and then my thoughts drift back to that kiss with Tristan in the hallway.
It was hot as fugg. I wanted to crawl inside Tristan's skin and make him beg me to fugging wreck him.
Even now, I can feel the softness of his lips, the intensity of our connection—it felt like everything I'd been missing in my life could be found in him.
I want to be close to him again, the way we were before I messed it all up.
A wave of emotions crashes over me as I think about what could have been, and what still might be.
The heat of desire mixes with the icy grip of fear, leaving me torn between longing for a second chance and dreading the possibility of rejection.
Tristan deserves better than the mess I've been, but maybe…
just maybe, I can find my way back to him.
A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips as I imagine the best-case scenario: Tristan in my arms, our bodies pressed together in a dance of passion and love in the bedroom.
And us—him, Nix and me—as a forever family.
But then reality sets in, and I know I must face the consequences of rejecting him.
Tristan is worth the risk, though. Our family is worth the risk.
My thoughts turn to the job I just snagged.
"First day of next month," I whisper to myself, the date simultaneously feeling like it’s an eternity away and happening way too soon at the same time.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the journey ahead.
One step at a time, I tell myself. One step closer to redemption… or heartbreak.
The thing that sucks is all I want to do is tell Tristan that I landed this job—one of the best bits of news I've had in the past year.
The desire to share this significant life event with him is all-consuming.
And Tristan is the only person I want to celebrate it with.
Perhaps this could be the perfect opportunity to walk back some of my bad choices.
My feet seem to move of their own accord as I walk up the stairs to Tristan’s apartment. I take a deep breath and knock on the door, my heart pounding with anticipation. He's barely opened the door before I burst into the apartment without invitation.
Tristan stands startled in front of me, taken aback by my sudden entrance. “Hey, Myles. What are you doing here?” He studies my face with open curiosity.
I can barely contain my excitement as I tell him about my job offer. “I got it. The Little League job, it's mine. I start on the first.” A rush of joy fills me as the news really sinks in. Why did it not actually seem real until I could share the news with Tristan?
Tristan doesn't hide his happiness for me and instantly cracks a warm smile that brightens up the room like sunshine.
God, how I love him… how I miss him.
His enthusiasm is contagious, and soon we're both beaming with joy over my recent success.
The joy of landing the job and Tristan's radiant smile sweep me away. Our lips meet, tenderly at first, but the hunger grows. Passion ignites like wildfire between us, just like always.
His lips taste like mint—cool and refreshing. My tongue darts out, exploring, teasing. I crave more. My heartbeat thunders in my chest, drowning out everything else.
"Tristan," I moan into his mouth, the sound breathy and low.
He responds with equal fervor, our tongues dancing together, sharing secrets and desires. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers tangle in his hair, the strands soft and silky against my skin.
Our breaths mingle, hot and heavy. We lose ourselves in each other, nibbling and sucking on one another's lips, tongues swirling and tangling. The world fades away, leaving only the two of us in this moment.
Abruptly, Tristan backs away, separating our bodies. I'm left gasping for air, my heart aching with longing. He looks at me, his eyes filled with equal parts love and conflict.
"Bab—Myles, I'm happy for you. I always want to hear your good news," he says, a hint of sadness in his voice. "But the truth is, this can't continue. We can't keep pretending like our relationship hasn't changed when it's obvious it has."
For a moment, it felt like we were the way we used to be. But I fear nothing will ever be the same between us again, not with this invisible wall separating us.
I ball my fists, fighting the urge to pull him back into my arms. My mind races, grappling with the truth in his words. We need to work on ourselves, grow stronger individually. But it's too darn difficult to let go.
My heart sinks. I get it, though. It's me who messed up, not him. Tristan needs space now, and I can respect that. Wasn’t it me not so long ago asking him for space? I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe.
"Okay," I whisper, taking a step back. The distance between us feels like miles. I turn toward the door, ready to leave his apartment—and him—behind.
"Wait," he says quietly, stopping me in my tracks. "There's one more thing. I came out. To my friends at work."
I look back at him, eyes widening in surprise.
A mix of pride and happiness swells inside me, threatening to burst free.
"Tristan, that's... that's amazing." My voice is barely audible.
"Congratulations." I know how he avoids most emotional attachments so there’s no chance of him getting hurt, so opening up about his sexuality to his colleagues at work is a huge step for him. For that, I'm proud of him.
"I told them the truth about us."
"What did they say?" I held my breath.
"That they already suspected we were dating," Tristan mumbles, looking down at the floor. Then he pins his gaze on me. "And they hope we'll get back together."
I hope so too, I think to myself. I want that... need it like my next breath.
"We'll talk again," I say softly before leaving his apartment. The door closes behind me with a soft click, the finality of the sound ringing in my ears.
Back in my own apartment, thoughts race through my head. Memories of Tristan and me—and Nix—flood my mind. The laughter we'd shared, and the way Tristan had been there for both of us, even when I'd been too wrapped up in my own mess to appreciate it.
A sudden realization hits me: Tristan is protective by nature, willing to move mountains for those he loves. And if he thinks Nix and I need protection from him, he'd do that, too. That's why he's pushing me away; for him, it's an act of love.
"Dammit, Tristan," I mutter under my breath, frustration boiling up in me. "You don't need to protect me from you. Can't you see that?"
I pace the length of my living room, feeling the warmth of the hardwood floor beneath my feet. My heart aches with love for him—a love that goes deeper than any superficial love or fling. Tristan is family, and I was a fool to let him go.
I stop in the middle of the room, determination taking root. Tristan needs to know the truth… that I want to spend the rest of my life with him. But it's going to take something big to get his attention, something bold and daring. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes.
"Get ready, Tristan," I whisper, a steely resolve filling me. "Because I'm coming for you."