Page 35 of Emil

I wanted him to claim my time. My attention. Me.

I’d left the house a little too early, which gave me about fifteen minutes to sit and observe the bookstore before Calvin arrived. For a weekday night, it was busy. The bookstore side had chairs clustered together where the book club would meet, while the other side of the building held low tables and a bar area. They didn’t serve a full menu, but there were enough snacks to piece together a meal if you wanted. The drink selection was solid, heavy on local Pacific Northwest options.

I nursed my drink, picked at my charcuterie board, and waited for Calvin, fighting the urge to text Anders. I wanted to tell him where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. More than that, I wanted Anders to feel compelled to claim me too.

“Am I late, or are you early?” Calvin asked as he joined my table. He’d already removed his coat and draped it over an empty chair. He flagged down a server to order a drink, sparkling cider, before giving me his full attention.

“Cider?”

“Yeah, Micah’s not fond of drinking, and I’m very fond of Micah,” he answered with a quick smile and a careless shrug. Fond was an underwhelming description of how Calvin felt about Micah. Two seconds in their company and anyone knew they were over the moon for each other. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“No niceties? No small talk?”

“Pass. And you’re stalling.” Calvin glanced into the bookstore area, and a smile transformed his face. I looked in the same direction, and Micah’s bright smile and big wave distracted both of us. In the months since I’d met him, he’d thoroughly come out of his shell.

“I’ve met someone, but I’m not sure what’s going on with him. And you’re the only Daddy I know well enough to talk to about them.”

“Pardon?” Calvin looked closed off entirely.

“What? Are you going to pretend you’re not Micah’s Daddy? He forgets to call you Cal all the time.”

Calvin’s eyebrows shot up and he sputtered a tiny bit. I scrubbed a hand over my face so he wouldn’t see my smirk. There wasn’t much that struck Calvin Rutledge speechless, so I felt inordinately proud.

“Hold on.” Cal left the table and stalked in Micah’s direction.

From a distance, I couldn’t hear the subject of their conversation, but I knew precisely what it was. Micah glanced over to me a few times with hesitation written all over his face. Finally, he gave me one last look, but this time there was a small smile. Cal gave him a tender kiss before heading back to my table.

“Micah said it was all right to talk with you about it,” he said upon his return. “Unless you have an issue with it, and then he’d prefer I decline.”

“Yeah, fair. I don’t have an issue with it, but I’m currently confused by it.” Cal helped himself to my food while I gathered my thoughts. “I think I might’ve become involved with someone.”

Cal looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and maybe for good reason. It may have been accurate, but it was still a terrible explanation.

“When will you know?”

“I don’t know that either.”

Cal signaled for another drink before he continued, “Start at the beginning.”

“It’s John McIntyre’s ex.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sadly, no. I remember how he treated Micah.”

“You sure you want to get involved with anyone whose taste allowed them to date that fucking asshole?”

“Ha! If you met Anders, you’d know instantly they are nothing alike.” I went over Anders’s involvement in the mess of a merger, then got to this afternoon’s encounter. I didn’t give details, but Cal got the gist. He listened without interruption and kept on thinking after I’d finished.

After an eternity, give or take five minutes, Cal finally put me out of my misery.

“You know the love language thing?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“This isn’t that.”

“Wow. Helpful. Thanks for your insight,” I said dryly. “Any other slightly more helpful words of wisdom?”