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Raphael’s eyebrows rose, and he pushed back from the desk, wheeling himself around. “Is that so?”
Dmitri wondered if maybe this was the worst idea he’d ever had, but Raphael snatched the bag from him and pulled out the box. His face dropped into a smile that was soft and sweet—and a little apologetic.
“This is very nice.”
“But?” Dmitri pressed, because he heard the word clearly in the silence.
Raphael bit his lip, then set the box on his lap. “But, I can’t eat it.”
Dmitri’s face heated. “It’s not like one Twinkie…”
Raphael pushed closer and laid his hand on Dmitri’s wrist. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me, but Ican’teat it. I have seizures. Epilepsy,” he said, and Dmitri felt his stomach sink with embarrassment. “Part of my treatment is a very specific diet. But if I could…”
“No, I…God. I feel like such a…”
Raphael’s hand tightened on his arm. “Don’t. You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you the other night for a good reason.” When Dmitri raised his brows, Raphael sighed and put his hands back on his wheels. “I wanted to enjoy my time with you. I didn’t want you to sit and worry about what we were eating, and if I would be okay. I wanted you to not think, and maybe find a way to enjoy your birthday.”
Dmitri bowed his head and let out a breath. Raphael was right—he couldn’t let himself wallow in guilt for something he had no control over. Raphael had kept it from him, and Dmitri couldn’t read minds. “Is there something else I can do for you?”
“Yes,” Raphael said, grinning. “Have some lunch with me. Jayden brought me food from Adam’s truck, and he sent over all this pita and hummus, which I can’t eat. So, you’d be doing me a favor.”
Dmitri wasn’t so sure about that, but he found it impossible to tell Raphael no. He followed him past the desk, into the lounge room where Raphael moved onto the leather sofa, and he used his hands to prop his feet up on the table.
“So,” Raphael said when he was settled, “tell me about your day.”
Dmitri blinked, then laughed a little as Raphael passed him a plastic container filled with hummus, and a small brown bag with little triangles of soft pita. “You really want to know?”
“Ja bitte,” Raphael said with a wink.
Dmitri flushed at the sound of German, then turned his gaze away. “Well. My day started at three a.m. with baking prep. Then I went home for a nap before I made a very bad decision at a supermarket. Thrilling, right?”
Raphael smiled. “I think you have made very good decisions.” He grinned wider when Dmitri took a nibble of the pita’s corners before dipping into the hummus for a bigger bite.
“What?” Dmitri asked when Raphael kept staring.
The older man shook his head and laughed under his breath. “You eat like a little mouse.”
Dmitri flushed. “Oh good. That’s exactly what I was going for.”
Raphael laughed harder. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. In Germany it’s a very sweet name for someone we care about. Kleine Maus. I’ve always hated it because I don’t like animal names for people, but maybe I get it a little bit better now.”
Dmitri couldn’t tell if he was lying, but there was an honesty in his eyes he didn’t see in most people, and something in him trusted Raphael. It was probably going to be his downfall—and it was probably the crush more than anything else. But it was impossible to feel the weight of the world as he sat there with Raphael at his side, their shoulders not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warmth.
“What names do you like?” Dmitri asked. “If it was someone you cared about?”
Raphael bit his lip in thought. “I’ve always thought Engel is nice.”
“Is that what you called your, uh…exes?”
Raphael laughed softly and shook his head. “They weren’t the sweet name types.” He took a sip of his drink, then set it on the table. “And you? Do you have special names for your exes?”
“Yeah, I don’t have those,” Dmitri admitted, feeling his cheeks heat. “Exes, I mean. I’ve never dated.” He cleared his throat twice, then took a drink. “Thank you for the other night, by the way,” Dmitri said after he swallowed it all down. “I kind of thought my birthday was going to be unbearable.”
Raphael set his container of chicken between his feet on the table and shifted a little closer, though they still weren’t touching. “You deserve to have good days. Not just birthdays, but any days. You don’t deserve to be treated like you aren’t just as worthy of time and affection as anyone else.”
Dmitri bit his bottom lip, then set his own food down and curled one leg up toward his chest. “I mean, I have people in my life who care about me. Wilder’s a good boss and a good friend, and Luca is always really nice. Hell, the other day Talia took me for a coffee.”
Raphael’s eyes widened. “Oh yes?”
