Page 49 of The Other Side

How am I going to do all that?

When Drum finally emerged from the bathroom, the breath completely left Osian’s lungs. Drum wore nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans. He was breathtaking—long, lean, with tight abs and… Oh, gods.

“I thought you’d better see my scars,” Drum said quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability. “Just so you know.”

Osian forced a light, teasing tone to mask the sudden lump in his throat. “What scars? I can’t tear my gaze away from that cute belly button and the treasure trail you’ve so selfishly truncated by zipping yourself up.”

But Osian could see them—the jagged, angry reminders of a night that had almost stolen Drum away forever. He crossed the room, closing the distance between them, and gently pulled Drum into his arms. He reached down, his fingertips hovering just a millimetre above the biggest scar near Drum’s ribs. “Does it still hurt?”

“Only when I remember.”

“Want me to kill him for you?” Osian murmured against Drum’s hair. “I could.”

Drum let out a soft, breathy laugh, though his body remained tense. “I want them all in jail for a long time. Eating crap food, sharing cells with guys who don’t appreciate their company, with nothing to look forward to.”

He rested his chin on Osian’s shoulder, finally letting his weight sink into the embrace. “I want to stop looking over my shoulder.”

Osian held him tighter, his hands tracing the skin on Drum’s back, his anger surging as he felt the raised lines of tissue. More scars.

“You’re magnificent,” Osian told him.

Drum pulled back just enough to look Osian in the eye. The nervous tension from before hadn’t entirely vanished, but it was warming into something very different.

“And you’re crazy.”

“I see your L and raise it to a C.”

Drum smiled. “You worked it out.”

“Roman numerals. I found Google on the phone. Drum… I am in awe. I know how to ping my location. How to map the streets. How to… how to find virtually any piece of human knowledge in a fraction of a second. Most of the stuff about faeries is wrong. I almost wanted to…”

Osian blinked, suddenly looking overwhelmed by the sheer, crushing weight of the modern world. “Right. Food. Sit down. There’s beer in the fridge. Do you want one?”

“That would be good.”

Osian filled two glasses and brought them to the table along with dinner. “Padron peppers and halloumi, tomatoes with mint and a mixed salad.”

One mouthful and Drum moaned. “What’s this dressing? It’s delicious.”

“A blend of coriander, paprika, olive oil, chilli flakes, turmeric, cumin…”

“Did you just put a bit of everything in there?”

Osian pretended to look offended. “It’s a carefully curated mixture.”

“Well, it’s amazing.”

“Don’t ask me to repeat it.”

Drum laughed. “You have so many hidden talents.”

“None hidden. This is it. All you get.”

“I was hoping there might be some you’d not shown me.”

Osian almost spat out the gulp of beer he’d just taken. “I’m pretty good at…” He paused just long enough to regret opening his mouth. “…identifying the sex of plants.”

Drum laughed so hard he nearly knocked his glass over. “Are you flirting?”