going between them, the pork rinds weren’t going to be the only thing spending their lives alone.
They’d slept apart the night before. Way apart, because Wolf was in the far wing, back in the room he’d originally slept in. It was a small act of penance on his part—one Wolf wasn’t all too sure Tristan even acknowledged.
“How long are you going to be mad at me?” he ventured softly. “Remember, my family doesn’t do tantrums—”
Tristan threw him a cutting look. “I don’t know. You seemed to throw a pretty good one yourself.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” A sign announced they’d arrived in San Luis Obispo, and he guided the SUV up toward the canyons. “I am sorry.”
“Are we going to do this here? In the car?” A flash of green stormed in Tristan’s eyes.
Any warmth they’d built up the night before had burned off as quickly as a thin bay fog under a hot rising sun. Wolf’d known Tristan was hurt. Hell, if he could, he’d take back every damned word he’d flung at Tristan before he ran off to Florida.
“I’d like to work things out, babe. I fucked up. Hell, you and me—we’re flailing through this relationship thing.” The streets were a blur, and Wolf had to concentrate on the road, finally spotting the turnoff he wanted. “I like sharing a bed with you. I like laughing with you. Hell, I like arguing with you but not hurting you. I prefer loving you more.”
“Do you think we’re sharing a room at your cousin’s place?” Tristan raised his eyebrow. “And don’t mention the Slurpee again. Yeah, I liked it, but there’s only so much you can milk a blue raspberry slush.”
“Your tongue still looks like a jelly bean.” Wolf laughed. “I’d say yeah, I can milk it a bit more. And tell me the truth, Thursday. Did you miss me?”
“You were gone maybe a week,” Tristan pointed out. “And so many messages—”
“But did you miss me, Tristan Pryce?” They’d come to a red light, and Wolf leaned over to steal a kiss from the corner of Tristan’s mouth. “Admit it. You did.”
“If I do, are you going to sing?” Gesturing to the intersection, Tristan said, “Light’s green.”
“I promise. No singing.”
“Then yeah,” Tristan sighed resignedly. “I missed you.”
S AN L UIS Obispo—SLO—was larger than Wolf remembered. It began with a typical suburban sprawl and eventually led to a Disneyfied downtown district. Every other sign read organic or natural, although there were a few digs of carnivore pride scattered here and there. Tris counted five tea shops in the first ten blocks of quaint storefronts and got into a spirited debate with Wolf about if the natural juice store counted as well, since they boasted freshly brewed matcha.
The sidewalks were crowded, mostly wandering tourists or groups of young men and women burdened with backpacks. Wolf told him SLO was a college town, and it showed its demographic with pride. Scattered here and there were cheap eateries promising a hefty portion of fresh greens and filling wraps. A Mexican food place smelled promising, giving off a lingering aroma of grilled meat and refried beans done with real lard. Tristan’s oversugared stomach growled, reminding them both it’d been hours since he’d last eaten anything with protein in it.
“There was a ghost back there. She was staring out of the window.” Tristan tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but more than a little bit of it snuck in. He actually bordered on gleeful, and Wolf quirked a smile at him. “And she didn’t look like she was planning on killing me. A repeater, I think.”
“Not a bad thing. The repeater part. Not the killing.” Wolf exhaled. “Let’s see if we can avoid the whole killing ghost thing again, okay?”
“If my uncle has his way of things, I won’t have to worry about any ghost, killing ones or otherwise.”
Wolf reached across the car and put his hand on Tris’s thigh, patting him gently. “Don’t
They’d slept apart the night before. Way apart, because Wolf was in the far wing, back in the room he’d originally slept in. It was a small act of penance on his part—one Wolf wasn’t all too sure Tristan even acknowledged.
“How long are you going to be mad at me?” he ventured softly. “Remember, my family doesn’t do tantrums—”
Tristan threw him a cutting look. “I don’t know. You seemed to throw a pretty good one yourself.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” A sign announced they’d arrived in San Luis Obispo, and he guided the SUV up toward the canyons. “I am sorry.”
“Are we going to do this here? In the car?” A flash of green stormed in Tristan’s eyes.
Any warmth they’d built up the night before had burned off as quickly as a thin bay fog under a hot rising sun. Wolf’d known Tristan was hurt. Hell, if he could, he’d take back every damned word he’d flung at Tristan before he ran off to Florida.
“I’d like to work things out, babe. I fucked up. Hell, you and me—we’re flailing through this relationship thing.” The streets were a blur, and Wolf had to concentrate on the road, finally spotting the turnoff he wanted. “I like sharing a bed with you. I like laughing with you. Hell, I like arguing with you but not hurting you. I prefer loving you more.”
“Do you think we’re sharing a room at your cousin’s place?” Tristan raised his eyebrow. “And don’t mention the Slurpee again. Yeah, I liked it, but there’s only so much you can milk a blue raspberry slush.”
“Your tongue still looks like a jelly bean.” Wolf laughed. “I’d say yeah, I can milk it a bit more. And tell me the truth, Thursday. Did you miss me?”
“You were gone maybe a week,” Tristan pointed out. “And so many messages—”
“But did you miss me, Tristan Pryce?” They’d come to a red light, and Wolf leaned over to steal a kiss from the corner of Tristan’s mouth. “Admit it. You did.”
“If I do, are you going to sing?” Gesturing to the intersection, Tristan said, “Light’s green.”
“I promise. No singing.”
“Then yeah,” Tristan sighed resignedly. “I missed you.”
S AN L UIS Obispo—SLO—was larger than Wolf remembered. It began with a typical suburban sprawl and eventually led to a Disneyfied downtown district. Every other sign read organic or natural, although there were a few digs of carnivore pride scattered here and there. Tris counted five tea shops in the first ten blocks of quaint storefronts and got into a spirited debate with Wolf about if the natural juice store counted as well, since they boasted freshly brewed matcha.
The sidewalks were crowded, mostly wandering tourists or groups of young men and women burdened with backpacks. Wolf told him SLO was a college town, and it showed its demographic with pride. Scattered here and there were cheap eateries promising a hefty portion of fresh greens and filling wraps. A Mexican food place smelled promising, giving off a lingering aroma of grilled meat and refried beans done with real lard. Tristan’s oversugared stomach growled, reminding them both it’d been hours since he’d last eaten anything with protein in it.
“There was a ghost back there. She was staring out of the window.” Tristan tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but more than a little bit of it snuck in. He actually bordered on gleeful, and Wolf quirked a smile at him. “And she didn’t look like she was planning on killing me. A repeater, I think.”
“Not a bad thing. The repeater part. Not the killing.” Wolf exhaled. “Let’s see if we can avoid the whole killing ghost thing again, okay?”
“If my uncle has his way of things, I won’t have to worry about any ghost, killing ones or otherwise.”
Wolf reached across the car and put his hand on Tris’s thigh, patting him gently. “Don’t
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