Page 40 of Emil

Anders’s soft reply came on the tail end of a yawn. We headed in that direction, and three more followed in quick succession. I glanced over. His eyes were droopy, and he was moving a little slower than usual.

“Do you have any hangups about people driving your car?”

“My fifteen-year-old Honda Accord? No, I’m fine with it. Why do you ask?”

Even his voice sounded sleepy. I was beginning to suspect that socializing took a real toll on Anders.

“Because you’re falling asleep on your feet, and I’m going to drive us home.” I kept my voice even and firm. This wasn’t a negotiation. Anders’s walk had turned into more of a shuffle.

“You don’t have to drive me.”

“But I do have to keep you safe. I’m driving.”

He must have decided it wasn’t worth arguing because he nodded and handed me his keys. I walked around to open his door, and he startled slightly, like he wasn’t used to it. I silently aimed a curse at his ex-boyfriend and shut the door before moving around to my side.

I cranked the heat and adjusted the vents toward his side. It was still chilly at night this time of year, and today was no exception. Anders kept his coat on, but hopefully it wouldn’t take long for the interior to warm up.

“Any quirks I need to know about?” I asked after putting the key in the ignition, before turning it over.

“Alfie likes compliments when he does well on a hill.”

“Alfie?”

“Yeah, the good news is he doesn’t smoke weed all day. Bad news is he still doesn’t have a job.”

I chuckled at his silliness, and Anders smiled back. I liked this version of him. Soft. Open. Relaxed. He wasn’t scanning for something to do. He was just…here. The urge to reach across the console and hold his hand was strong, but I resisted. I didn’t want to push my luck tonight.

“Do you need to stop anywhere, or should we head home?”

“Home, please.”

Without another word, I backed out of the parking space and headed toward the harbor to catch the ferry.

Anders didn’t talk much after that. At first, he alternated between watching me drive and looking out at the city lights, offering a few quiet bits of conversation. About halfway there, he fell silent.

I glanced over. He was leaning back against the headrest, fast asleep. His long lashes rested against his cheeks, and his hair had slipped loose from the braid he’d tied it into. I wished I’d found a way to ask him to take it down before the evening ended. The few times I’d seen his hair loose—usually late, when I passed the cottage—it had stolen my breath every time.

Maybe it was wrong, but since he was asleep, I covered his hand with mine. He sighed softly and turned his palm up, letting our fingers lace together. Something unnamed settled deep in my chest when he did. I returned my focus to the road, but left my hand exactly where it was.

When I’d talked to Calvin earlier, he’d said I needed to make a choice. Tonight made it clear where I was going. It hadn’t felt like a choice then, and it didn’t now.

It felt like inevitability.

“Oh.”

Anders came awake with a start when I crossed over from the dock onto the ferry. Unfortunately, that also meant he jerked his hand out of mine. I felt the loss.

“Oh my gosh, did I fall asleep?” He scrubbed a hand over his face as he tried to bring his brain back online. Anders looked around like he was lost and unsure where he was or how he got there. It took him a quick minute to remember how the evening had ended.

“Only for a little bit. You must’ve been tired.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I make for terrible company.”

I knew the self-deprecation was supposed to be a joke, and maybe other people who weren’t me would’ve let him get away with it. But behind the joke was a genuine, sincere apology.

“There’s no apology needed. You’re allowed to be human. People get tired. People fall asleep. It’s not a judgment on my company or yours. It’s not rude to be tired.”

“But it is rude to fall asleep on people,” Anders said quietly. “I don’t want you to think your company is lacking.”