He’d apologised. Sam kept glancing at Tristan, who sat on the opposite side of the dining table. He had apologised if he had overreacted. Sam thought about that for quite some time. Had he overreacted? Probably not. In his shoes, Sam doubted that he would have ever been able to get over what had heard. Guilt still ate at him, but he doubted he would ever forget the look on Tristan’s face after he had overheard his and Gareth’s conversation. He was without doubt the bigger man. Sam watched him. He was smiling at something his dinner companion had said whilst picking up his glass of claret. He took a sip, put the glass down, and patted the corner of his mouth with his napkin. He was beautiful. Through and through. He was what Sam knew he could never be no matter how much he might play the ga
