[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"Yeah."
To Tristan's relief, Dean interrupted. "Tristan! Your turn to get your ass kicked. Get over here."
Laughing, Tristan grabbed his cue and jogged over to the pool table. Dean was right. Tristan
would lose, like always, and they'd all tease him about it. He didn't mind losing, though. Even
getting his ass kicked would be better than spending more time dwelling on how much he missed
Cam.
Chapter 22
From the farthest corner of the rec room, Cam watched Tristan play pool with Telly's friend, the
researcher. Tristan laughed at something the man had said, not seeming to mind how badly he
was losing. He looked happy. A few minutes before, while discussing something with Telly, his
expression had been serious, even sad. He was beautiful either way. Cam's heart ached just
watching him.
Cam rolled his beer bottle between his hands, wishing he had the courage to go over there. As the
weeks passed, his anger at Tristan had faded. All that was left now was a deep loneliness, made
worse by the knowledge that Dix and Tristan had been right about everything. Cam had pushed
Tristan away at every turn, until Tristan had finally given up on him. Then he'd made everything
worse by making out with Shane right in front of Tristan. His pathetic revenge plan had backfired.
The worst part of the situation was Cam hadn't done anything to get Tristan back since then.
Except for the one phone call, after Tristan returned from South America, Cam hadn't contacted
Tristan. He'd only called him because he knew how Tristan felt about losing patients, and he
needed to know Tristan was okay. Understandably, Tristan hadn't wanted to talk to him. Such a
small setback might not have deterred anyone else, but the lessons life had taught Cam made him
terrified to try. He hadn't been able to summon the nerve to do anything else.
Dix had attempted to give them a chance to talk by inviting them both to poker night. What a
disaster that had been. Cam could tell Tristan felt awkward and uncomfortable, and he'd left as
soon as he could. Cam had left soon after, not wanting to hear Dix read him the riot act for being
a coward.
Even during training, Tristan avoided Cam. Cam had to wonder if maybe Tristan had given up on
him for good. Everyone else had, why shouldn't Tristan? The thought left him desolate.
Absorbed in his thoughts, Cam started when Spoons appeared in the chair across from him. The
man could move like a cat, despite his size. Cam pulled his gaze away from Tristan and onto
Spoons. "Hey, man. What's up?"
"Not much." Spoons's dark eyes watched him, steady and way too perceptive. He glanced toward
the pool tables and then back again. "Thinking of playing some pool?"
Cam's first instinct was to snap at Spoons, to deflect attention from his emotions, but he bit back a
cutting remark. Instead, he gave Spoons a half smile. "No."
The big man leaned back in his chair, still watching Cam as if trying to figure him out. "For a
while, you and the doc both seemed really happy. Then you're both unhappy, at the same time. I
put two and two together."
"And made four." Cam sighed. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted. Everyone seemed to
know what had happened between him and Tristan. Of course, he'd pretty much guaranteed
everybody would figure it out when he let their relationship go beyond casual in the first place.
"Have you been talking to Dixon?"
Spoons gave him an honest-to-God grin. "No. I try to stay out of her schemes whenever I can."
"Good call." They were silent for a few minutes. Spoons could probably have sat there for hours
in silence, but Cam couldn't. "Dix told me not to fuck things up with Tristan."
"Did you?"
Once again Cam was unable to get angry. The nonjudgmental way Spoons asked the question
made it impossible to. "Yeah. I didn't want to, but I did."
Spoons considered that for a moment. "Do you want to make things right?"
Cam's voice came out as a near-whisper. "More than anything."
"So make it right. The doc's a forgiving guy."
Why did something that sounded obvious have to be so difficult? Cam ran a hand through his
hair, tugging hard at the errant strands. "It's not that easy. I made a lot of mistakes, hurt him. I
know what he wants, but I'm afraid I can't give it to him." What if I'm not good enough?
Dark eyes sad, Spoons shrugged. "If you can't give him what he needs, then you have to let him
go."
Even if it hurts me more than anything. Cam sipped his beer to ease his suddenly dry throat.
"Maybe that's what I should do. Just let him go so he can find what he needs."
"Or... " Spoons paused, stood. He peered down at Cam, his eyes challenging. "You could step up
and try to be what he needs." Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Cam glanced back toward the pool table, where Telly and his friends were trying to show Tristan
how to make a shot. Could Cam step up and be what Tristan needed? He wanted to.
Tired, thoughtful, and more than a little confused, Cam put his half-empty beer into the recycle
bin next to his table and stood. He'd been half convinced that things were hopeless before talking
to Spoons, but now a thread of hope wormed its way into his heart. He had a lot to think about.
* * * *
The next morning, Cam made a point of arriving early for his training. Tristan was scheduled for
the same morning session he was, and Tristan tended to be early. He staked out a spot near the
door to wait.
Tristan walked in a few minutes later. His faint smile faded when he saw Cam. He nodded and
started to move away.
Heart in his throat, Cam managed, "Hi." His voice sounded odd and stiff.
Tristan paused in mid-flight, his expression uncertain. "Hi."
Desperate for a neutral topic, anything to make Tristan keep talking to him, Cam said the first
thing that came to mind. "I've got firearms practice this morning. What about you?"
Tristan looked even more confused than before, but he answered. "Me, too."
Other team members were starting to arrive. Cam met Tristan's troubled green eyes. There wasn't
time for true confessions, but he could share something small with Tristan now. "The first time I
had firearms practice, I was eighteen, and I thought I was going to be awesome."
"What happened?"
Cam smiled. "I got my ass kicked by a girl, and just about everyone else, too. It was weeks before
I was any good."
Tristan's return smile was slow in coming, but it came.
"Attention, everyone. We've got a mission." Claudia's voice rang out over the early morning
chatter, and any chance Cam had to continue was lost. He didn't mind. He'd spoken to Tristan,
told him something about himself, and made him smile. That was progress.
* * * * [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • moje-waterloo.xlx.pl

    •