Page 12 of Emil

I nodded, and he continued, “His boyfriend is friends with Barrett, who owns this place. Barrett’s boyfriend is Owen. We’re all friends with a few others. They call us ‘the boys and Anders.’”

Anders looked a little stricken, like he’d said too much, but I didn’t want him to stop.

“Do they work for my company too? I thought Rory was just visiting, but I don’t know everyone yet.”

“He was visiting. He’s a writer. We’ve been best friends since second grade. Owen designed Quill. Nico works for Rory’s boyfriend as a project manager at his architecture firm. His boyfriend is Levi, who used to be Owen’s landlord. And Reed—the ER doctor you met—his boyfriend is Jakob, who works in the hospital lab. And the newest addition is Casey, who works for Barrett at a different restaurant, but I think he’s going to quit and run the food truck at his boyfriend’s bar.”

“And John isn’t part of the group?”

“No. He hates them, but I refused to give Rory up. Or any of them.”

For the first time, Anders sounded furious and protective. Soft-spoken Anders became someone else entirely when talking about the boys. Loyalty radiated off him.

John had tried to isolate him. It was the one thing Anders had refused to bend on.

“Gentlemen, can I get you anything else?” the server asked, placing our dishes in front of us. Anders looked to me instead of the server and shook his head.

“We’re fine, thank you.”

He made no move to eat. Instead, he waited, hands in his lap, eyes down. It looked conditioned. But he wasn’t as tightly wound anymore. Something tonight had eased him. His hands still trembled, but his voice had steadied.

For the rest of dinner, I watched him. He deferred to me at every turn, but he also served me. He prepped my bread, adjusted my glass, and when I spilled a little water, he quietly dabbed it up. The more he did, the more the tension eased out of his shoulders. I didn’t know what it meant, but I wasn’t interfering.

With the dishes cleared and stacked—earning him a grateful smile from the server—I couldn’t delay the evening any longer. He’d declined dessert, and I had no more excuses to keep him here.

His hands still shook when he picked up his water glass.

“Anders, did you drive here tonight?”

“Yes?”

He always turned answers into questions when he was unsure, and I had no idea why I was cataloging his quirks after one dinner.

“You’re still shaky. I’m driving you home.”

“I’m all right. It’s not very far.”

“Fine isn’t the same as safe. I’m driving.”

I expected pushback, but his shoulders eased again.

I signaled for the server. Anders froze when I told him to put his wallet away. In what universe was this man—set up to fail tonight, working for me—paying for his own dinner?

“Tonight, I’m at my mom’s place. Are you sure it’s not too much trouble? It’s five, maybe ten minutes farther.”

“It’s absolutely my pleasure.”

And to my surprise, I meant it.

CHAPTER FIVE

ANDERS

You can do this. You need to do this. You have to do this.

“John, I’m sorry for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

My question went unanswered, but that wasn’t unusual. If he was concentrating, my voice didn’t register. I stood waiting and avoided Lacey’s eye contact. I knew she thought John could hear me and was simply ignoring me, but I didn’t think that was strictly true. Either way, he’d expect me to be patient, so I stood there for five minutes waiting for his attention.