He popped the heart balloon. Or rather held it down with his foot. The man could be here to yell at him for that scene in the office. “Hey.” He stopped about five feet away, behind the bumper of the neighboring vehicle.
Tierney smiled briefly, not taking his hands out of the pockets of his overcoat. “Hi. Um.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you.” His face was half-shadowed, exaggerating some features and making others disappear.
“Okay.” Dalton nodded, totally uncertain about what was happening. This wasn’t angry Tierney or drunk Tierney. It was the new man, and maybe he’d give Dalton a chance to explain about earlier.
“There’s something I’d like to ask you,” Tierney said, gesturing with his hands still in his pockets, making his coat tug around his frame.
Oh God, this was just painful. Both the ache in Dalton’s chest and the way Tierney struggled with whatever it was. “Please, just ask.”
“Why did you touch me like that?” Tierney rushed out. “This morning.”
Dalton closed his eyes a long second. “I’m sorry.”
Tierney frowned. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Dalton fumbled. He took a calming breath. “Just, I was surprised because I had no idea you were back.” Since you never contacted me.
“Do I have something to apologize for?” Tierney asked, then swallowed.
“No, no,” Dalton assured him. “It’s . . . Okay, listen, I’m just going to tell you.” He studied his key, trying to order his thoughts.
“Tell me what?” Tierney’s voice had a sharp edge of alarm.
Dalton met his eyes. “Nothing, really, just that I was, um, mildly hurt when you barely said hi to me earlier.”
“Shit,” Tierney muttered, dropping his head and yanking a hand out of his pocket to run it through his hair. While it didn’t look completely unkempt anymore, it did look like he’d been finger-combing through it all day. “I didn’t mean to, like, ignore you. I was focused on what I needed to tell Ian.” Another pass through his hair. “See, I came back from Dunthorpe with a list of people I have to apologize to—”
“They said you had to?”
“I’m making me.”
Dalton nodded, biting his lip and waiting for him to go on.
“I wanted to get it done so badly I had tunnel vision, I guess. I knew you were there, but you weren’t who I needed to see.”
In spite of himself, Dalton’s pulse picked up. Did that mean Tierney wanted to see him, instead? “So . . . have you said you’re sorry to everyone you should?”
“Except my parents, but the jury’s still out on whether I’ll apologize to them. Have to go to dinner at their place tomorrow. But, yeah, now I’m on to thanking the people who helped me.”
“Oh.” His heart drooped a little. “How many of those are there?”
“Just you.”
“Oh.” A totally different “oh” than before. Dalton cleared his throat. “Um, should we go somewhere and talk?”
“There’s . . . shit.” Yet again with the hair, but this time Tierney stepped forward, facing Dalton. He took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. I don’t know what you thought . . .” His gaze dropped. “But when I left, I thought I might come back and you and I could, um, you know.”
He knew. He played dumb anyway. “Know what?”
Tierney shifted, jaw tightening. “Never mind, I’m being a freak. It was just me thinking stupid shit.”
Ouch. “No, it wasn’t.” Dalton stepped closer, brushing Tierney’s arm with his fingers. “I thought the same thing.”
Tierney’s face went slack in surprise. “So you are, like—” he coughed “—you really are into me?”
“I am,” Dalton whispered, staring at him for long seconds. “And I thought, when you got back . . .”
“That we’d, like.” Tierney drew in a shaky breath. “Start something?”
“It seemed possible.”
“Maybe it is,” Tierney said, but he was shaking his head “Sometime in the future, but right now I can’t really do that. I mean, my therapist thought—and, you know, I can see his point, and I kinda agree—that I need some time before I, um, make any major decisions, or enter into a romantic relationship.” He licked his lip quickly before adding, “Even if I want to.”
Dalton got it, really, he did—wasn’t that common for people coming out of rehab? “Um, so you don’t start drinking?”
Tierney nodded, but he was still focused on his feet. “Yeah. I used alcohol to deal with stress, and even good stuff can cause stress, so . . .” He shrugged, glancing up at Dalton from under his brow.
“I understand. But we can still be friends.” And friends was fine, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter—it was what Tierney needed from him. He just had to make sure all of his various parts were kept on board with that.
“Thank God.” Tierney’s whole body relaxed, making Dalton realize how rigid he’d been. “I wasn’t sure . . . I mean, I don’t know if I’d want to be my friend if I were in your shoes.”
“Tierney,” Dalton said, not to get the man’s attention, but as a sort of comfort. Verbal encouragement.
He cleared his throat, straightening up but not meeting Dalton’s eyes, looking off to the side instead. “Someone’s coming,” he muttered, frowning.
“They won’t be here long.” He glanced at his watch. Yeah, the flood of government employees would start up any second. Or already had. He should suggest they go someplace more private, but to be honest he was afraid to. He didn’t want to be alone with Tierney, because he felt too pulled toward him at the moment, even here in semipublic, with simple friendship between them. He wanted to lie down with him and let Tierney rest his head on Dalton’s chest and listen to him spill his guts about the last two weeks.
But in a totally platonic way.
“Um,” Tierney began. “We could go—”
Someplace private. No! Bad idea.
“—sit in my car.” He tilted his head to the left, nodding toward something. “Talk awhile there.”
Oh. “Okay.” Perfect.
Tierney hated this car. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a nice ride, it was the memory of the way he’d walked into the dealership and custom-ordered a “fully loaded” BMW, throwing money around to impress people.