Page 49

"Appreciated," Din said.

As Thomas disappeared into his room, Din returned to his laptop to finish at least one more paper before meeting Fenella, but his mind kept wandering to his dinner plans.

It was just a simple meal between friends, right?

No, they were more than that, or at least, they had the potential to be.

He tried to focus on the student's essay on his screen, but it failed to capture his attention. Instead, his mind wandered to Fenella—the way she'd looked in that flowery sundress at the café, how her walls had seemed to lower slightly during dinner with Ingrid and Atzil, the softness in her eyes when they'd said goodnight.

And that almost-kiss...

Din had replayed that moment countless times in his mind. He'd leaned in, certain she wanted it too, only to have her turn at the last second, his lips finding her cheek instead of her mouth. But it hadn't felt like rejection—more like caution, a silent request for more time.

Time he was more than willing to give her.

For fifty years, he'd carried her memory with him, a ghost, a what-if that had never found resolution. He could be patient now that she was real and present in his life again. What were a few weeks or months more compared to the half-century he had already waited, without even realizing he had been in standby mode?

He couldn't have known that she'd appear like a phoenix from the ashes of his memories, perfect and immortal, and yet he'd kept thinking about her and comparing every woman he'd dated to her.

Closing his laptop, Din rose to his feet and walked over to the bathroom for a quick shower. As the hot water pounded him from three pulsating shower heads, he planned the dinner he was going to prepare. Nothing too elaborate—simplicity had its own charm. Thomas's menu was perfect, but he needed to check what vegetables were available.

Did Fenella have a sweet tooth? He couldn't recall. Perhaps some fruit and cheese to finish the meal would be safest, provided that Thomas had the stuff in his fridge.

Regrettably, the village didn't have a grocery store, and he didn't have time to make a shopping trip to the nearest supermarket.

Stepping out of the shower, Din wrapped a towel around his waist and confronted his reflection in the steamy mirror. Like most immortals, he looked good, and he had better tools now to court Fenella properly than he'd had fifty years ago.

Perhaps he'd needed to go through the heartbreak of losing her once to become the male she needed him to be. He'd been prideful, rigid, unwilling or unable to communicate his feelings, because he hadn't been trained to find and court love.

It had all been about the conquest and moving from one woman to the next.

If he had stayed the same, he would have been ill-equipped to handle the complexities of Fenella's trauma, her wariness, her hard-won independence.

He dressed carefully, choosing gray, slim-fitting jeans and a burgundy button-down shirt. It was similar to what he'd worn the day before, just in different colors. He'd noticed Fenella's appreciative glance and decided not to fix what wasn't broken. A touch of cologne—not too much—and he was nearly ready.

Back in the living room, Din was surprised to find Thomas emerging from his bedroom.

"That was a short rest," he said.

"I don't need much." Thomas gave him a quick once-over. "Heading out so soon?"

"In a few minutes," Din confirmed. "Any last-minute advice for dealing with a woman who could either kiss me or stab me, and I'm not sure which is more likely?"

Thomas laughed. "Just be yourself, the guy who carried a torch for fifty years, and not the professor with a stick up his arse."

Din raised an eyebrow. "I don't have a stick up my arse." Much less so now than he had when he'd first met Fenella, at least.

"It's just a figure of speech. But seriously, academia has a way of making people rigid and overly analytical. Fenella doesn't need someone to lecture her. She needs someone who sees her as she is now, not who she was or who you wish she could be."

Din nodded. "I'm actually less rigid now than I was back then, but I will remember your advice about not lecturing. It's a good one."

"I have my moments." Thomas smiled.

After getting his phone and wallet, Din tucked them into his back pockets, and as he headed for the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. "Be careful tonight."

Thomas nodded. "Always am." Then, a mischievous smile returned to his face. "Make a couple extra steaks and save them for me for when I get back, will you?"

"Count on it," Din promised, then stepped outside.