Page 56 of Finding Michael

“Well, he wants to be your daddy in other ways. I don’t know how you couldn’t tell. He’s stuck around a lot longer than you deserve and put up with a lot of shit from you.” Cody sagged against his car. “I’m shocked.”

“Cody.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He glanced over at Rose, who paced the length of the porch and remained on the phone.

“Okay. Let me spell it out,” Cody said. “Why do you think he told you I was moving in? So you’d come home. Why’d he leave you a long-ass voicemail? So you’d come home. You don’t belong here. You and he had a great thing in New York.”

“Cody.” He sounded like a broken record.

“I got rid of your boyfriend because Dennis asked me to. Pissed me off, too. I’ve been Dennis’ freaking piece of ass for the last two years.” Cody’s voice cracked. “Does he love me? No. Why? Because he loves your goddamn ass. I love Dennis, but he doesn’t love me.” Tears streamed down Cody’s face. “Now you know.”

“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t suspected Cody and Dennis of anything, but he could see them together. Hell, they made sense together. Dennis was soft-spoken but firm, and Cody liked someone who could take control.

“Yeah, don’t be sorry. If you don’t love him, then you don’t.” Cody wiped his face and shrugged. “I brought this on myself. I knew how he was. It’s been you for a long time, but I thought I could change his mind.”

“I had no idea.” Maybe he’d seen them as a twosome at the apartment. There were the odd conversations at night. The creaking in Dennis’ bedroom and hours where Dennis wasn’t available, but he’d chalked it all up to Dennis wanting alone time.

“You’re prettier than me.”

“Cody.” There was the petulance he knew so well. “Who cares who looks better?” Besides, he’d always thought Cody was the better-looking one. Cody wore his clothes effortlessly and grabbed attention at whatever club they attended.

“You’re stronger. You work out and run. I just diet. It sucks.” Cody stuck out his bottom lip. “I can’t compete.”

“You’re very handsome.” He shouldn’t have to compete with Cody. They deserved to be taken on their own merit. Cody was smart and savvy with money. Tristan didn’t know how to balance a checkbook.

Cody sobered and hooked his fingers in his belt loops. “Look, you need to get your shit in order.”

“I know.” He had to figure out how to get things with Michael back on track, if only so they could be friends. He wanted to stay lovers, but that was asking a lot.

Cody tipped his head to the side and stared at Tristan. “Where are you happy? Really, truly happy?”

“Here.” Tristan stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’m centered.” He hadn’t thought about where he belonged, but the moment he said the word, he knew. When he drove into Sullavan, he remembered all the good times and the slower pace. He had the chance to do what he wanted with his life and make good on his promises to his uncle. He’d been able to turn his life around. He hadn’t touched booze or pills since he’d arrived. Hadn’t thought about either addiction. Was he cured? Not by a long shot, but he had new fixations to divert his attention and he liked the reinvented Tristan.

“Because it’s new?” Cody asked.

He had to be honest and spill his guts. The words tumbled out fast, but they were the ones in his heart. “Because it feels like home. For the first time in my life, I feel like I belong. I never fit in at the house. Certainly not at the apartment. Mother wanted a token gay child, but I write, not act or whatever, so she doesn’t care. My aunt only wants me around so I can be the token gay person at her parties. She doesn’t even like me. I’m too sarcastic and mean. Yeah, maybe I am sarcastic and mean, but I’ve had to be in order to survive. Here, I don’t have to do those things. I can be me. I can write and breathe and exist. I want to be here. I want to keep what I started going. I want Michael.” He hadn’t realized he’d held all of that in, but letting go freed him. Things weren’t perfect, but he’d been real with someone—mostly with himself.

“He is cute.”

“He’s fantastic.” A smile curled on his lips as he thought about Michael. Michael’s scent, the softness of his skin, the way his eyes widened when they made love…how Michael listened to him when he complained, but didn’t let him wallow in self-pity. Michael was special.

“I hated splitting you up.” Cody kicked at a rock on the driveway. “Like, really hated it.”

“Well, since he’s seen us together…I’m guessing his trust in me is shot. It should be. I told him I wouldn’t fuck him over, but with your help, I did.” He’d promised his love was true and his heart belonged to Michael. The charade with Cody had been just that, a sham, but the damage was done. Only a miracle would get him and Michael back together.

“It can be fixed.”

“No.” He knew better. Besides, Cody sounded like a greeting card.

“You’re giving up? Like that?” Cody frowned. “I know you. When you really want something, you don’t quit and youreallywant Michael.”

“No. He’s got trust issues and I played into it. I screwed up.” There weren’t enough sorries to make up for what he’d done and been caught in the middle of. There’d never be enough.

“If you really like each other, then you’ll find a way.”

Again with the greeting card lines…“Since when did you get so philosophical and wise? Have you swallowed the encouragement cards from the store? Or is this another act?” He hated to doubt Cody, but he knew the man’s act. He’d been the butt of Cody’s jokes and worse. “Huh?”

“I’ve always been this way, but, like you, I’ve had to hide my true self. If I keep up the dick persona, no one can hurt me. I hurt them first, but the real Cody suffers.” Cody sighed. “I’m fucked up.”

So many more things made sense. He’d seen flashes of the real Cody plenty of times. When Cody worked at the animal shelter, when he’d donated time to the food pantry and helped with the soup kitchen. But then the asshole side of him came to the surface. Cody could rip into people without a second glance. He’d work a crowd at the clubs and get men to buy him just about everything. Still, Tristan liked the toned-down side of Cody. “No, you’re not fucked up. I like the real you.”

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