Loyal

by Hollis Shiloh

  He laughed, his teeth gleaming. "No, no. I can't run after a big meal, that's all. If we have to do anything today besides sit in the patrol car, I can't eat much now. I'd throw up and embarrass the precinct. Don't worry, I'll have a big supper. And you'll have some vegetables." He pointed accusingly at my tray.

  "Of course," I agreed. I'd eat whatever Tommy told me to eat—especially since he'd probably be cooking it for me.

  I hadn't expected, when we decided to share an apartment, that I'd be getting a personal chef as well as a roommate. But that's what it amounted to. Tomas was a great cook.

  "I worry when you don't eat," I admitted. "You probably won't have to do any running. You sure you don't want some of this?"

  Tomas gave me a fond look. "This is fine, Riley," he said softly. "You don't have to look after me. I won't starve, I promise."

  I took a thoughtful bite of pizza. "Well, you look after me."

  "That's my job—and my privilege," he added.

  He really was good to me. He'd even given up reflective sunglasses for my sake. I didn't want an insect-eyed, alien-looking partner. When he wore sunglasses now, it was only the dark kind. And of course he looked good in them, because Tomas looked good in almost anything.

  Tomas had an effortless beauty that could make any halfway decent outfit look classy as shit...but I wanted to grind my teeth when I saw the way he dressed when he wasn't even trying.

  I had considered my fashion sense lacking. I was not a clothes horse. But I hadn't realized just how far from fashionable it was possible to be.

  The other day, I'd "accidentally" gnawed holes in his worst pair of sandals, the ones he regularly wore with socks. He'd given me a suspicious look, and I'd done my best to look like an innocent wolf.

  I was eyeing his worst pair of shorts for next time.

  Oversized sweatshirts and baggy jeans were one thing—I could get behind that, definitely—but there were limits. And he needed to learn them. Or at least put up with my gently nudging him in the right direction. Tomas was such a pretty guy, he really was. He needed to let people see that.

  "Do you want to go to a ballgame on Saturday? I mean, if we have the hours free?" He leaned forward, stealing a fry off my plate, munching it delicately with his beautiful mouth.

  Tomas was a fan of the local minor league team. He had truly cringe-worthy sportswear from them, and some surprisingly nice memorabilia on his shelves, nestled near the thick historical biographies he favored.

  "Yes," I said, because I liked doing anything with Tomas. I couldn't remember ever going to a ballgame before, but how bad could it be?

  "Good. We should be able to get seats near the back if it's crowded, but it's usually not. Sometimes, you can score tickets near the front. I hope you're not one of those embarrassing people who constantly yell at the umps." He grinned at me, daring me to say I was.

  I raised my hands, trying to look innocent.

  It was kind of him to pretend I wasn't a cringing coward. Sometimes, I thought he really wasn't pretending, that he saw me as normal, brave as anyone else, just slightly quiet and not very outgoing. It was nice, being thought of as bold enough I might embarrass him at a ballgame. It was all nice, with Tommy.

  "By the way." He crunched another fry, looking down at the table. "I hope you don't mind. Mom has invited herself over next week. I think she wants to meet you, although she won't admit it. I hope it's...okay."

  "I get to meet your family?" I smiled in delighted surprise. "Of course, Tommy. Of course."

  It had been so long since I'd had any family of my own. I was going to love his, no matter how difficult they turned out to be. I would make sure of it.

  Tomas looked relieved. "Well, I don't want to throw you in at the deep end, but I was hoping you'd want to meet them eventually. One of my cousins has a quinceañera in two months. Maybe you'll want to come along."

  "I look forward to it," I told him.

  "Well, if you're not ready, there will be another occasion before too long. There always is. And if it's too crowded and loud for you, we can always say we have to leave for work," he added. "I've done that before, when my mother starts matchmaking."

  "You don't want your mother to pick out a nice girl for you?" I tsked. "Kids these days."

  "I'll pick out my own nice girl—when I'm ready. Or else I won't. But there's no way I'm ready for anything right now."

  I hoped it wasn't because I was taking up all his time, monopolizing him relentlessly. Not that I minded taking up all his time, because I didn't. But I probably should.

  He caught my look, almost as much of a mind-reader as Justin today. "And no, it's not because of you, okay? Not everybody wants to jump into relationships right away. I don't even have time to date right now, much less think of settling down."

  "You have time to see ballgames. You could invite a date instead of me."

  "I could. I won't. I don't want to have to impress anyone at a ballgame, Riley!" He seemed appalled at the thought.

  "Don't worry, you won't impress anybody. At least not if you wear that lime-green atrocity." I shuddered at the memory of one of his favorite team t-shirts.

  He rolled his eyes in reply, and stole another fry.

  "I'M GOING TO BE IN your area next week," said Justin's voice, tinny over the phone, and way too casual for my heart to take. "For a conference. I'd like to drop by and see you and Tomas, if I could. Meet him properly. See how you're doing—in the flesh, so you can't lie to me and tell me you're 'just fine.' I know how you work," he said, lowering his voice, an ominous yet teasing tone.

  I shivered a little. Now that my crush was out in the open (at least to me and Tomas), it was harder to ignore or set aside the way Justin affected me. It wasn't all humiliation, frustration, and irritation. "Um."

  "You can say no if you want," said Justin, utterly sober now.

  "No. I mean, I don't want to say no. You should visit. Tomas wants to meet you again, too."

  "Good. I'd like to see how he's taking care of you."

  "You're not going to be like that, are you? Can't you just turn off your protective, force-of-nature side this time, and be a normal, friendly human being who's not trying to shield me from everything?"

  "Now that's completely unfair," said Justin. "Calling me a force of nature, and at the same time, telling me to turn it off. I'll behave, I promise. I like Tomas. I'm sure everybody would like Tomas. "

  "Okay. Text me as soon as you're in the area. I can pick you up at the airport if you want, or...or whatever."

  "Maybe you can return the favor and let me sleep on your couch this time. It'll save the cost of a hotel."

  "Isn't the conference putting you up?" I said. If it was a police matter, weren't they supposed to pay?

  "Oh, that's extra."

  "Okay, then. I'll ask Tomas."

  "Wait...you'll ask him? Why? Are the two of you living together?"

  "Yes, he was nice enough to go into a two-bedroom apartment rental with me. I didn't have any references of my own, and I hate to stay by myself anyway. We share costs, and it's nice. He's a good roommate, really quiet. Well, I mean, not just quiet, but considerate, you know?"

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Why did I keep talking about Tomas? I didn't want to. I wanted to hear Justin talk and smooth over the last of our arguments' tensions.

  "Justin?" I tried. He still hadn't replied. That was uncharacteristic.

  "Right. Well, you ask Tomas. I should be there soon. It would be nice to know if I should book a hotel or not, so get back to me quickly."

  "Okay. Sure." I blinked a couple of times. For some reason, I couldn't think of anything to say now. He didn't sound like he wanted to chat. I guess it had been a short call.

  "Where's Tomas now? He's right there with you, I'll bet, monitoring the call to be sure I don't upset you. Ask him now."

  "Tomas isn't like that. He's doing his own thing."

  Before Justin called, I'd been reading and crunching down some cornflakes, a late
snack. Tomas was showering and getting ready for bed. We'd had a long day at work, and I highly doubted he wanted me to barge into the bathroom to ask him if Justin could visit us.

  "I'll ask him and call you back tomorrow, okay?" I said, because I could just imagine him saying I should ask now, demanding to know what was going on—in short, being his usual pushy self.

  "Fine," said Justin. Then he sighed. "I don't mean to be short with you. I'm rather stressed, but that's not your fault."

  "Is it about the conference?" I said cautiously. "Or a coworker thing?"

  "How well you know me," he said with a hard little laugh that was not happy at all. "The conference is one thing. It slows down the re-interviews and profiling process, but I'll handle it. The coworkers..." He blew out a breath. "Let's just say some of them were involved in the original casework, and they don't take kindly to my stepping in, reexamining, or daring to have any opinions that aren't in lockstep with their out-of-date procedures."

  "Has it been long enough for things to go out of date?"

  "It is in a little Podunk hick town like this, where they were never up to date to begin with," he said savagely.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Me too. I don't need to dump this on you. How are you faring? Really?"

  "Fine. I said I was fine."

  "Yeah, but I never quite believe you if I can't see your face. All right. I'll stop. See you soon? I hope."

  "Me too," I said quietly.

  Tomas walked into the living room, toweling his hair dry. "Who's on the phone? Is it Justin?"

  "Just a sec. Tomas is here." I nodded, and covered the mouthpiece. "Tommy, can Justin stay here? On the couch, sometime next week? He has a conference in the area, and wanted to see us."

  Tomas raised one brow. "He has a conference next week and didn't plan any further ahead than that?"

  I shrugged. "Can he?"

  "Of course. Mind if I talk to him?"

  I pretended I hadn't heard that and uncovered the phone. "Justin, Tomas says it's fine with him."

  Tomas sat down next to me on the sofa, close.

  "He's there? Can I talk to him?" said Justin in my ear, sounding alert.

  I made a low growling sound in my throat, frustration more than anything—it was my Justin time, mine!—but I relinquished the phone. If they were both going to demand it, I didn't feel I had much choice.

  "Hi, Justin," said Tomas. He settled back, crossing one leg over his knee. He wore board shorts and nothing else. While Tommy dressed impeccably for work, anywhere else he was a complete slob. He absently handed me the washcloth he'd been drying his hair with. I made another grumbling sound, then reached up and worked on finishing the process for him. He tilted a little closer, leaning into me.

  Tomas had a beautiful body, and most of it was currently bared. He was all sleek, warm skin (a lovely soft brown, all over), with just enough body hair. He had soft dark eyes, dreamer's eyes, trim muscles, and those decadent curls. He was gorgeous no matter what, but his smile took him over the top. It was going to be someone's undoing someday.

  I'd been around him long enough now that his physical beauty didn't make me uncomfortable or embarrassed, even when he was half-dressed like this. He was just Tomas. Wonderful, sure, and we were starting to know each other inside and out, but still just my partner and friend. I admired his body, of course, but there was no zinging spark of mutual attraction to make me drool. When I felt the urge to cuddle up next to him, it was because I wanted the comfort of his closeness, not because of pheromones or restless sexual urges.

  "How's it going, Justin?" asked Tomas. I wasn't exactly sure how to interpret that tone. It would be just my luck if they both turned out to like guys—no indication of that for either one, so far—and started liking each other. I rubbed Tomas's curls dry carefully and listened to both sides of the conversation.

  "Great," said Justin brightly. "How are things there? Is Riley okay?"

  "Things are fine. Riley is doing well."

  "Any problems on the job so far?"

  "Not as such. There has been some adjustment." He hesitated for an instant, glancing at me, as if for permission. I gave him a blank look, not sure what he wanted to tell. He studied me a moment, then said, carefully, "Riley isn't comfortable sniffing around dead bodies. I've had to...be very clear that he's not going to be working murder scenes any time soon."

  Oh. That.

  "How's your team taking it?" asked Justin, sounding alert and ready to bust some heads if the answer was "not very well."

  "Fine. He's not a machine. That has to be understood. He has feelings of his own," said Tomas. "What I mean is, people shouldn't take him for granted."

  Justin laughed low on the other side of the phone. It sounded almost like a growl. "Is this about me staying on your couch?" He emphasized the word your just slightly.

  "No. Not at all. It will be excellent to see you," said Tomas, sounding formal and polite, but not terribly friendly. "For both of us."

  Justin was silent.

  "Although I'm surprised you didn't plan further ahead, what with your conference and all. That doesn't sound like you."

  "What can I say? It slipped my mind," he ground out.

  Tomas tsked. "Always sad when the mind starts to slip."

  "Could you hand me back to Riley, please?"

  I gave his bare shoulder a shove and reached for the phone.

  Tomas handed the phone to me, grinning a little at my shove. He'd enjoyed that too much, trying to wind Justin up. Still, he had a point about the hotel. Was Justin looking for an excuse to be around me? If so, I didn't mind that at all.

  I gave Tomas a slightly reproving look. He seemed entirely unrepentant, stretching his arms and lacing his fingers behind his neck, his smile wicked.

  "Hi, Justin. Me again," I said, sounding both breathless and witless. "You still coming over?"

  "Sure. Yeah. Of course." His voice had gotten warmer again, like he was smiling at me in that slightly proud, happy way of his.

  It made my toes want to curl. It did strange things to my insides, making them all churned up and hungry.

  "It'll be great to see you again," he added. "I never really know how you're doing till I get a look in your eyes."

  "I've changed a lot since you last saw me. I don't even want to run out of the police station and hide from all the cops anymore. Well, not most of the time, at least."

  "You've got Tomas for your backup. I'm not surprised you're progressing by leaps and bounds."

  "Yeah, he's pretty great." I glanced up at the man who was, after all, pretty great. "He didn't really mean that about your mind slipping. You shouldn't take it to heart."

  Justin laughed. "Don't worry. I won't." Yeah, he probably didn't go around looking for reasons to be hurt. Justin seemed more like the kind of guy you actually had to insult pretty purposefully before he'd get angry, or even realize that you were insulting him.

  Like I'd done, the other week.

  Like his colleagues had done, when they were angry enough to want him gone.

  He really did rub people the wrong way sometimes, but that wasn't entirely his fault. He had a strong personality. It had good and bad sides to it, the way my gentle personality had a pushover side to it that wasn't so great.

  Tomas leaned closer, gave me a loud peck on the cheek, and said, "I'm gonna go get some clothes on. Don't mind me."

  "Tomas!" I protested, half-heartedly. Because I knew how that sounded—exactly how he'd wanted it to sound. He gave me a naughty grin and a quick wink as he sauntered off, as if to say, "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

  "Is he trying to get into your pants?" said Justin sharply, sounding as annoyed as he ever had. "Damn it, Riley, you're not letting him push you around, are you?"

  "No. No, he isn't. He doesn't. This is Tommy we're talking about!" I sounded flustered for sure. "Besides, would it be so bad if he wanted to? Get into my pants, I mean."

  "No. I mean, if you wanted that, too." He sounde
d very stiff all of a sudden, as if he really didn't want to answer but knew he had to. It was the right thing to say—the party line—but it wasn't a party line he currently wanted to push.

  "Glad I have your approval," I said acidly.

  He sighed. "Don't be like that, now. You know I worry about you."

  "Yeah, because you know stuff about me nobody was ever supposed to know. I can take care of myself now, Justin. I get dressed by myself and everything. Plus I have Tomas to look after me. You don't have to be my—my nurse anymore, okay?"

  "Okay." He sighed, sounding tired and forlorn. "I just—worry."

  "I know." I should bite my tongue, stop scolding him. But would he ever see me as anything close to an equal? It got so old sometimes. And frankly, it hurt. Here I was crushing on him, and he saw me as an incompetent child.

  "So are you or aren't you dating anyone?" he said after a moment. Great, the pushy interrogator was back.

  "No," I growled.

  "No, you aren't, or no, you aren't going to answer me?"

  "No, I'm not. Would you stop it? If you want to ask me personal questions, do it when you get here." At least it would be worth putting up with his pushiness if I got to see him.

  "Okay. I guess I will be seeing you pretty soon." He perked up a little at this.

  "During that conference you didn't plan ahead for."

  "Yes," said Justin calmly. "The conference I didn't plan ahead for."

  He was so full of shit sometimes. I couldn't decide whether I loved him or wanted to wring his neck. Maybe both.

  After I hung up, Tomas wandered back into the room. He still hadn't put on any more clothes. My gaze zeroed in on the bag of cookies he carried, and was eating from. "I thought you were getting ready to go to bed?"

  "I was, but it seems like a good time for a snack chat." His eyes sparkled at me, waiting.

  I stared back, not getting it. Oh. "Did you just pun me?"

  "Maybe." He sat down beside me and offered me the bag. They were gingersnaps, good ones.