Pause. “Yes.”

Do it. He was the only one who knew Ben fucked random men in clubs, because he wasn’t out, due to his NYC high-ranking father. He could tell him this.

“I told you Josiah still loved him, and he loves Josiah.”

“The motherfucker left you?” Ben said with a tight voice.

“No, but he is with him. His name is Mateo Sanchez. He’s from New York.” Tristan took a deep breath. “He lives with us. I am with him, too.” Tristan paused. “I care about him, too.”

The silence choked Tristan, a tight fist around his throat. “I’m sorry.” Jesus, he was shit at this. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Ben, but for once he wanted to be honest with his friend. To be a real friend to him.

“Mateo Sanchez... You... Christ, Tristan. I’ve got to go.”

The only time Ben ever hung up on him is when he knew Tristan needed the space. Not tonight. For the first time, Tristan was the one left on the phone waiting for Ben as the line went dead.

He spent the rest of the night in his office, the whole time berating himself for doing it. Tristan showered early, dressed, and then went to the bed, where a naked Josiah and Mateo slept. His body warmed at the sight of them, a voice in his head reminding him he could be there with them right now. That he should be, but he’d decided to walk away.

“Hey.” Josiah’s voice was rough with sleep as his eyes fluttered open.

“I’m sorry.” He should add why, but then, he knew Josiah would understand.

“I know.” He tried to smile but the sadness in his eyes clouded it over.

“I’m trying, Josiah. I am. I—”

“I know that, too.” He sat up and pressed a kiss to Tristan’s lips.

Thank you. “It’s early. I’m going to head to the water. I’ll meet you down there when you get ready.”

Josiah nodded at him. “I love you, Tristan.”

He remembered what Josiah had said about Mateo speaking Spanish earlier. “Te amo? Is that what he says?” It sounded ridiculous coming from Tristan, but Josiah’s smile reached his eyes this time.

“Yes.”

An hour later, as Tristan stood beside the bench where he met Josiah years before, he turned when he heard footsteps behind him. He expected to see Josiah, or Josiah and Mateo, but it wasn’t either of them. It was Elliot, Josiah’s psychologist friend. When he saw Elliot there, he knew Josiah wasn’t coming.

Maybe he should be mad at his lover for this, but how could he be mad when he knew it came from love? Fingers on his pulse, he decided to do something that he’d never really done until Josiah and Mateo. He decided to trust.

Tristan nodded his head toward the water and they started to walk. They didn’t talk about anything important. They didn’t talk much at all, but when the walk was over, it was Tristan who said, “I’ll see you again...Maybe Tuesday?”

He had to try this, had to fix himself so the three of them had a real chance.

CHAPTER SIX

Mateo

“You’re renting a room at this new address?” Mr. Sanders, Mateo’s PO, asked as he sat on the other side of the desk as him.

“Yep.” Mateo crossed his arms, his body stiff as hell. This whole situation was so fucked up. He got where Tristan was coming from. It was the easiest way to do it, but having to do it in the first place made him want to lose it. Made his muscles feel like they were cramping up all the time. It was a reminder of who he was: Mateo Sanchez; he’d stolen, sold drugs, guns, lied, and been locked up.

He’d killed.

That was the one that made the vomit want to climb up his throat but he bit it back.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think all that shit went away, or that it ever really would, but fuck, did he want it to.

He didn’t want to be the guy who’d done all that shit. Who still hid some of it from Jay. Who woke up at night with nightmares of blood on his hands and bodies in front of him that he ignored so his men would never know. Going through all this just reminded him of exactly who he was.

After his appointment was over, Mateo took a bus to Rhonda’s building, though he guessed it was theirs now, too. He gave his name to the doorman, who checked the list multiple times as though he didn’t believe Mateo really rented a place here. Got that right, asshole. I don’t belong here, but here I am. Get used to it.

Once he made it up, he tried the door to their apartment. Was this the one they would really all live in or the one for show? The door didn’t budge, so Teo tried the apartment next door before glancing at his phone. He was ten minutes late, yet Jay wasn’t here yet. Nausea automatically hit him, but then a text came through.