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I laugh and put the pot away in the cupboard. “You just notice that?”
He shrugs and then frowns at me. “Don’t get mad when I say this, but I suppose this is how empty-nester parents feel when their last kid grows up and leaves home for good.”
I resist making a dad reference, mostly because I can see he expects it, and we’re having a decent conversation. I don’t want to be the one to derail it this time. “Don’t parents usually celebrate?” I hang the dish towel on the oven bar and turn to lean on the counter next to Bjorn, nudging his shoulder with mine. “The kids are gone! We get our lives back!”
He snorts and looks out the window into the dark. “You know I didn’t step in so I could be in control.”
“Yeah. I know.” And I do. Bjorn had no choice but to be the adult figure in the family. Astrid and I were still six months away from turning eighteen, and the courts required it. “Aside from the legal reasons, it was your way of grieving as well as honoring Mom and Dad. You were trying to keep us all together.”
Bjorn’s head snaps around, shock plain on his face. “Yes. Exactly.”
I shoulder bump him again. “I figured that out not long after Jules called me on my bullshit with Erik.” I blush, remembering how I’d accused Erik of running away from both his problems and me, and Jules’ incredible bravery, defending Erik when Erik wouldn’t defend himself. Jules basically shamed me into getting my shit together. “It got me thinking, if I had Erik’s motives so wrong, what made me think I’d gotten yours right?” Bjorn’s jaw drops, and I laugh. “Don’t look so shocked. I may be pig headed sometimes, but I’m not totally clueless, regardless of how I might act. I also didn’t do it on my own. Cassandra helped.” My therapist never took my crap excuses and called me on my shit. I respect her immensely for it.
“Thank you. I mean that.” Bjorn holds my gaze. “Hearing you say that means more than you know. I never wanted to fight with you.”
I rub my neck and nod. “Yeah, I know. I’m just not always great at remembering that.” I nudge him again. “But now you can go have a life. Find your own person.”
That makes him laugh. “I’m way too much for one guy to handle.”
I make fake gagging noises. “Okay, TMI.”
“Fuck off.” Laughing, he shoves me. “I didn’t mean in bed.” He sobers and shrugs. “I meant in general. I’m a lot.” He snorts. “We all are, in our own ways, I guess.”
“Except Astrid.”
Bjorn nods. “Yeah. Except Bean. She figured shit out early.”
“But to your earlier point, we each found our person, so why can’t you? Maybe now that you’re an empty nester, it’ll be your turn.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
When he nudges me again, it occurs to me that this might be Bjorn’s way of getting some human touch. I push off the counter and turn toward him, my arms open. “I love you, Bjorn. Thank you for putting up with me.” I pull him into a hug.
At first he hesitates—most likely from shock—but then he wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him. “I love you too.” His voice is thick and barely a whisper, but I hear him. It’s been too long since we’ve said those words as anything but an expected call and response. But tonight, they ring true. And it means the world.
37
Jocelin
“Shit!”Ithrowtherazor in the sink and press a hand towel to my neck to stop the bleeding. “That’s it. I’m growing a damned beard.”
Gunnar pokes his head into the bathroom. “You okay?” Eyeing the towel pressed to my neck and the razor in the sink, he comes to stand next to me, slipping his arms around my waist. Our eyes meet in the mirror. “Nervous?”
I sigh and lean back against him. While I enjoyed spending time at Gunnar’s house, I’m grateful to be back in my own space. Waking up in my bed, surrounded by my things calmed some of my nerves. Unfortunately, it didn’t fix all of them. “You’d think this was my first day ever instead of my first day back.”
“Nerves are understandable, babe. You don’t know how it’s going to go today. But just remember, I’m thinking about you, and I’ll always have your back. Plus, Astrid is only an elevator ride away, if you need someone’s ass kicked.”
That makes me chuckle. “True. I would never want to be on Astrid’s bad side.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Gunnar kisses my foam-covered cheek, and I laugh at his now white splotched beard and mustache. He’s going to be a sexy as hell silver fox someday. “Want me to take a look at your cut?”
I smirk. “Is cut a euphemism for something else? Because I don’t have time for that.” Gunnar pulls the towel away from my neck and examines the nick. I watch in the mirror, not seeing much bleeding, so I pick up the razor and finish the job.
“Nope. Not a euphemism.” He uses the towel to wipe the shaving cream from his face. “And it looks like you have things under control here, so I’m going to finish getting dressed.” He puckers up, carefully kissing my un-foamy lips, and leaves me to it.
I manage the rest of my morning routine without incident, and when I get to the kitchen, Gunnar has a fresh cup of tea waiting for me. “I have to take off, if I’m going to make it to the office on time. I’ll need to figure out the whole rush hour commute times, I guess.”
I snap my gaze to his. “Oh?” I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Especially if he’s saying what I think he is.
