Page 51 of Emil

“Yeah, it’s time for bed. I’ll walk you back to the cottage.” When Anders started to open his mouth, I knew it was to tell me that was unnecessary, so I cut him off before he could finish. “And it’s not up for discussion.”

Anders closed his mouth and gave a slow nod while trying to hide a yawn. It had turned colder over the last couple of hours, and he hadn’t brought a jacket with him. I grabbed one off the hook by the front door and held it open for him to slide his arms inside.

“You know it’s not necessary. It’s not that far, and it’s going to take longer for me to take this jacket off than it will to walk across to the cottage,” Anders said with his self-conscious laugh.

“You’re always worth the effort, sweet boy.”

Anders was stunned into stopping his protests and gave me a nod. “Let’s go.”

I kept Anders’s hand in mine as we made our way through the dark. He wasn’t wrong about the short distance, and I wished for longer. Hours longer. Days. Weeks. Months. Years.

“Thank you for walking me home. I appreciate it,” Anders said when we reached the doorway. The stillness of the night, with the fog rolling over the island from the Sound, made it feel like we might be the last people left awake on Earth.

“You’re very welcome.”

The silence stretched between us, but I was fixated on Anders’s mouth. His lips were naturally dark pink, and the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow was visible, unlike my own, which required shaving every damn day. I forced myself to look directly into his eyes.

I found the answer I was hoping would be there. His want and need mirrored mine. I slid my hands slowly up his chest until I clutched the lapels of his borrowed jacket. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Anders was an inch, maybe two, taller than me, so I had to raise my mouth to his. I gave him plenty of time to signal he wasn’t interested, but Anders dropped his mouth slightly to reach mine instead.

Our lips met, and our breaths lingered in our lungs. It might have been the sweetest kiss I’d ever had. More promise than kiss, but my lips tingled where his had been. I drew back and searched his face again. Anders had become too important to me to risk pushing him further than he was ready to go. What I found was need and want, and a little hesitation.

“Do you want me to stop?” My question was whispered because the moment was too private for anything louder, even if we were alone.

“N-no.” Anders glanced down again, then quickly darted out his tongue to wet his lower lip. I knew he hadn’t done it for any reason other than instinct, but I wanted—needed—another taste of him.

“You sure?” I began to pull away, but Anders’s hand landed on my waist and kept me still.

“I’m sure.”

I lifted my mouth to his again. Anders met me halfway, and his body relaxed into mine. His body was too far away, and he took half a step forward. At the contact, Anders melted. His fingers flexed against me.

Never, not once in my entire life, had I had so much clarity about who I wanted. It was Anders. My mouth fit against his again. My tongue traced the seam of his lips, and Anders gave me entry with a soft sigh. My tongue stroked against his in slow, smooth passes. With each one, I felt Anders slip further into peacefulness.

Our kiss wasn’t a prelude to sex. No one was going inside the cottage except Anders, but it was a promise. A commitment to see through where this attraction between us went. I knew where I hoped it would land, and I wanted like hell for Anders to end up in the same place.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ANDERS

“May I help you?”

When I was out running errands on my lunch hour, I decided to slip inside the local flower shop and pick up a bouquet of flowers for myself. I had told Emil that I liked flowers, and I hoped he hadn’t taken that as a hint that I expected anything from him. I’d been sure he hadn’t, but then I’d replayed the moment over and over in my head and started spiraling. I figured the best thing to do would be to buy myself flowers so it was clear I wasn’t expecting anything from him. Anyway, now I was here, and I needed to decide what I wanted to get.

“Yes, please. I wanted to get a bouquet.”

“Sure. Is this for an occasion? And is it for yourself or for someone else?”

“The occasion is my table needs some, and it’s for me.” I gave an embarrassed little laugh, but the man behind the counter just smiled.

“That’s the best kind of flowers to get.”

“I hope so because no one else is going to buy them for me.” Dammit. Why did I even say that? It felt accusatory, and it wasn’t Emil’s job to buy me flowers.

“Do you know what you’re looking for, or do you want me to pick for you?”

“If you could go with spring flowers, that would be great. Tulips, hyacinths, anemones, with some salal for the greenery. Oh, and pussy willows, if you have some, would be awesome.”

“No problem at all. I have all of that in stock. If you give me five minutes or so, I’ll be right back.”