Page 19 of Finding Michael

“Huh?” He glanced down at the item. A check.Wait.“What’s this?”

“The last time I looked, it was a check made out to you for the library.” Tristan grinned. “Now you can add onto the building or whatever the library needs—especially since now you’re housing what I assume will be a whole lot more books.”

Michael nudged Tristan’s hands away and didn’t take the check. He needed to talk to Tristan in private. “Dicey? Hold down the fort.” He ushered Tristan into the men’s room and locked the door. “I know this isn’t the greatest place to talk, but it’ll have to do.”

“If you wanted a quickie to thank me for the money, you don’t have to. I’d rather we have that quickie in my room at the B&B. It’s more fun there and less…conspicuous. I’m sure your co-workers all know what we’re about to do.” Tristan snagged Michael in his embrace. “But I’m game.”

He nudged Tristan away. “Jesus. No.” His head ached. “I’m not coming on to you.”Not here and not right now.

“Oh.” Tristan bristled. “Sorry.”

“I need honesty.” He folded his arms and leaned against the bathroom door. “What’s going on?”

“I gave you a check for a hundred grand, courtesy of my uncle. He wanted the library to have the money and his books to go here for others to enjoy.” Tristan matched Michael’s stance. “Why?”

“You’re a writer. Why wouldn’t he give the books to you?” Someone he loved, not someone he dealt with after the temporary love went away.

“No room,” Tristan said.

“When were you going to tell me you’re a bestselling published author? You’re famous. I blathered on about having you come talk to the writers’ group and you said nothing. You acted like you weren’t anyone exciting.” He tensed and his headache increased.

Tristan sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” He shook his head. “I can’t accept that money.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.” Not with the memories attached. Not when he knew how Tristan would react once he found out Michael’s truth.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not the one coughing up this cash. My uncle wanted you to have it. So far, I’m not seeing an issue.”

Other than him finally having to admit he’d been Al’s lover for a summer and that he’d thought for those three months that he was in love…yeah, no problems at all.Then Al’s nephew came to town and dredged up Michael’s history. No sweat. He bit back a chuckle. No wonder he had trust issues. He couldn’t even trust himself. “Why not tell me who you were from the beginning—not Al’s nephew but the famous part?”

“What? I’ve written books and made a career of it. I have a trust fund because my mother married into a wealthy family. No one believes I’m the actual author of my books. The critics think I’ve had them ghostwritten since they believe I can buy anyone off. I haven’t. Those are my words and my blood, sweat and tears in those novels. Now you know. I’m not ashamed for keeping quiet. What I wanted was to be accepted for me, Tristan. Not some figment of me that you and everyone else have created. Is that wrong? Too fucking bad.”

“No,” Michael murmured. “It’s not wrong.”

“I’ve got a goddamn stalker who keeps emailing me suggestions to write about a town called Lewiston. I have no fucking idea where that is and I haven’t tried to look. On top of that, I’m supposed to be plotting my next book. Instead of writing, I’m trying to keep my sanity. I want to be safe and live my life. Right now, I don’t know if I can.”

Michael stared at Tristan. God. He’d gotten upset for mostly nothing. Yes, Tristan hadn’t told him everything, but was his life story Michael’s business?Who am I protecting myself from? Me?“I’m sorry.”

Tristan shifted his weight from his left to his right foot and leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall. “You didn’t know.”

“Still…” He couldn’t hide his shame.

“Michael.” Tristan reached for him, then pulled back. “You gave me boundaries and I tried to stay within them, but I lied by omission. I get it. You need trust, but so do I.”

“So, what do we do?” He hated being so angsty.

“First, you accept that check. It’s for the library and made out to you or the system. I don’t know. I just know I was supposed to give it to you. Al loved this place and he wanted to help it grow.” Tristan inched toward Michael.

Michael nodded.

“Second, allow me to donate his books. Again, it’s in the will. I have to comply. Besides, I don’t even know what books he has to donate,” Tristan said. He crept closer to Michael. “I’ll cough up whatever you need to shelve, preserve and store them until you have space. I’ll gladly dip into my trust for this.” He smoothed the wrinkles in Michael’s shirt. “I spent four summers in Sullavan and I had no idea we had a library. I never knew anything about this town.”

And he knew nothing about his uncle. “You missed out.” Michael allowed himself to relax. He liked when Tristan touched him. The ache in his lower belly grew and he longed to press himself against Tristan.

“Third, I like spending time with you. You’re one of the good ones. You held me accountable when I wasn’t ready to fess up. Not many people challenge me.” Tristan wound his arms around Michael. “I’m intrigued and turned on by you.” He paused and his eyes widened. “Based on that rod in your pants, I’m guessing you’re pretty turned on, too.”

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