Page 70 of Fire & Ice

Anddamn,did he look good doing it. So much so, that when they found the apartment empty, Tripp still had Lee's furious,‘I’ll smite you,’expression burned into his brain, and therefore hadplans.He wasall aboutbaiting Leander into a little scene, into taking advantage of their alone time before they both knocked out or the other guys came home. Unfortunately, after stripping down to his boxers, Tripp accidentally fell asleep on his bed (sweet, sweet memory foam)before Lee even made it back from the bathroom.

To be fair, hedidhave one hell of an exhausting day.

Excuses aside, that meant that not only did Trippnotget laid a second time, he also has yet to encounter Beau. The two of them haven’t spoken since Tripp left his brother nodding dazedly at Mickey, while he and Lee bravely fled the scene.

By nature, Tripp therefore hasalsonot yet faced up to any possible consequences of what he and Lee did, all in the name of…offreedom, and—and social justice, and—oh hell,Tripp justwanted to watch that asshole take one to the face. Pretty much since the day Beau re-introduced them as adults, aiming for family unity, or whatever. It’s bunk, but if that other stuff helps Beau to not be mad at him, then Tripp’s not above a couple of little white lies.

Stretching carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping and righteously bed-headed Leander at his side, Tripp slowly extricates his legs and swings them over the edge of the bed. There’s barely a token reaction from the pillow-hogging octopus, save for a quiet grumble directed down into the bedding. Watching that, Tripp barely resists the urge to leave a kiss on some part of Lee's plethora of exposed skin.

He scratches an itch on his stomach instead.

Stifling a yawn, Tripp pads down the hall and finds Beau easily, taking up the majority of the space in their tiny kitchen with his giant frame. His brother’s not only awake, he’s dressed and unpacking ribbon-tied boxes from an oversized, plastic take-out bag marked with the logo of the bakery from down the street that Tripp loves. Behind him, there’s a percolating pot of coffee on the counter, and Tripp heads straight for it.

As he passes Beau, Tripp shoulder checks himhard,making the Bigfoot-imposter masquerading as his younger sibling grunt and stumble to the side.

“Clown,” Tripp grunts, like everything is totally normal.

“Ow,” Beau complains, rubbing his bicep for what feels like a goddamn eternity before cracking a smile. “Burnout.”

Coffee pot in hand, Tripp stops what he’s doing to return Beau's semi-uncertain look with his own grin and a nod of affirmation. To his relief, Beau relaxes in kind as something unspoken passes between them, and whatever tension might have been simmering breaks and dissolves.

Despite the sigh of relief he exhales upon replacing the coffee pot, Tripp knows in his heart that he has no reason to worry. He and Beau may bicker, may piss and moan and make mistakes with each other, but they’retruefamily, and they’vealwaysworked things out. Whatever Beau's reasons were for wanting Christian around, Tripp’s already decided that it’s something he can and will get past. Beau will talk about it when he’s ready, or he won’t, and the two of them will be just fine.

It’s silent in the kitchen over the next few minutes as both Truetts move around each other easily and in practiced rhythms. It’s different for Tripp than at Lee's place or with Lee in general—this sort of familiarity is the kind that feels likecoming home,like stepping into somewhere safe and familiar after being away for months on end. It’s like sitting at a shared table in a childhood home on Thanksgiving, or putting up a tree filled with sentimental ornaments at Christmas.

It’s the memory of years and years of shared experiences, both happy and sad, and the way he and Beau have carvedeach otherinto a place that’s so much deeper than DNA or material things they never had.

It’s a feeling that’s beyond words, and it’s not until they’re both settled in front of pastries and bagels at the crappy breakfast bar, fake-marble-laminate peeling worse than Tripp remembers at one corner, that Beau breaks the quiet.

“I’m really sorry, Tripp,” he blurts out, setting his coffee mug down a little too forcefully.

Black liquid sloshes over the side, and Beau curses under his breath. He reaches for a novelty napkin, plucked from a stack that says, “I need my bro when I marry my ho,” which has Briana written all over it. As far as Tripp’s concerned, Beau is marrying up. Bri has awaybetter sense of humor than his brother does.

“Ugh,” Beau exclaims, wrinkling his nose as he reads the message for himself, which makes Tripp laugh out loud and also feel increasingly relieved. This isBeau.They were never not going to work this out.

“Anyway,” Beau continues, crumpling the napkin in his hand, “I really messed this up, Tripp, I know it.” He pauses, staring down at his plate, so Tripp does the same, never being particularly good at showing his own emotions. “I know this doesn’t make it right, but the hospital is cutthroat, man. Back when I was a resident, there were five of us competing foroneattending spot the next year. Christian—”

Beau cuts himself off, groaning in frustration. He ruffles his own hair before sighing and letting his shoulders droop. “It was more than justfamilywith him, more than obligation. He took me under his wing, he had my back. Whether you believe it or not, he’s a really good doctor, Tripp.”

Tripp snorts but otherwise remains quiet, reserving airing his thoughts out loud for another time. Beau's entitled to his opinion, and Tripp’s no doctor himself, but he’sreasonablysure that being empathic and non-judgemental when it comes to others’ differences are important qualities for one to have. Factually speaking, those are traits that Christian is sorely lacking. A person can have all the knowledge in the world, all the technique and skill in the palm of their hand, but if they don’t care aboutpeople,they’re missing the entire point of saving lives.

Doctor or not, Tripp knows all about that, firsthand.

He clears his throat. “So, he made you feel like part of the team. Had your back with the big bosses. Got you that cushy, six-figure job you like so much. Pop a shoulder back in place, buy a new Lexus. Gangbanger with a knife to the gut? Couple stitches, bam! Money in the bank.” Tripp knows he sounds likean ass, but it’s intentional banter between them, testing the waters, and Beau passes. He rolls his eyes, elbowing Tripp in the ribs.

“Earlier this week, I repaired a bullet wound that caused cardiac tamponade. Red Room activation, open chest,inthe trauma bay, with none of my usual OR support staff or equipment. Guy’s wife is pregnant.”

“Alright, alright, you’re a fucking hero. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Beau laughs, but his smile fades quickly. “Tripp, all of that aside—it’s not an excuse. Listen, I knew Christian could be an asshole, but I thought—okay, I don’t know what I thought. Sometimes two people just don’t get along and it’s not deep, you know? I figured your personalities didn’t mesh. I knew he could be a jerk, but honestly, Tripp, until last night I didn’t know hemeantit. Sometimes guys like that, they say stupid things.”

Tripp stops chewing mid-bagel-bite to bestow an incredulous,are you fucking serious?look on Beau that he’s sure would make Leander proud. Or maybe earn him a spanking—either way’s a win. Beau glances over, his shoulders drooping again as he registers the face, while Tripp tips his head to the side in order to make his nonverbal message even more pointed.

“I’m serious, Tripp!” Beau persists, despite his defeated stature. “Yeah, I hear you, it sounds stupid. But it’s the truth.”

Tripp opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue loaded with chewed food to express what he thinks about that. Beau just sighs and drops his fork, because he’s been cutting his bagel into tiny pieces like he’s eighty.Good luck, Briana.

“You’re right. You’re right. It’s not like I haven’t been thinking about the same shit all night, ever since you guys left the restaurant. You’re good, by the way,” Beau tacks on, hitchinga thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Tripp’s room, and presumably, his criminal best friend. “Mickey took care of everything, and Brett didn’t say one damn word to argue with his version of events.”

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