Page 32

Are you going to kiss me?

“Maybe, Bunny. But it was better for everybody else. I’m dangerous.”

Dangerous?

“I might just be a dumb jock, but I know that isn’t the truth. You’re a good person, Jules.”

“Oh, Nikolai. You are anything but a dumb jock.”

He gave me a soft smile and brushed my forearm with his fingertips.

What are we? Friends who like to make each other feel better? Because damn me, Jules! I don’t know if I only want to be your friend.

“Tell me aboutyourlife now, Nikolai.”

“What do you want to know? There isn’t a lot to say. I get up, I train, I destroy myself in the gym, and then I play hockey. Rinse and repeat.”

“Oh, I disagree. That was quite a bit to say.” When I looked back at Jules a cheeky half grin sat on his mouth. “So, you only live for your work, do you?”

Okay.

I had never looked at it like that.

“I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“Does it make you happy?“ Jules tilted his head to the side, scrutinising me.

Shit, Jules.My eyes filled with tears.Not again.

“Please accept my apology, Bunny. I didn’t want to upset you.“ Jules’ hand brushed my forearm again, only this time he didn’t take it away. He left it on my skin, and his touch sent sparks all through my body.

“It’s okay.“ I brushed the tears away, sniffing under my breath. “I know you didn’t mean to make me cry. Shit.” I laughed when fresh tears spilled from under my lashes. “I don’t know why I am so weepy when I’m around you. I was always this tough guy, you know?”

Jules didn’t speak. He seemed intent to listen. I wouldn’t say my colleagues were shit at listening, but we never talked about feelings. You spoke to speak, not to be heard. We made dumb jokes. We teased each other. Or, we played cards or on our game consoles together.

I couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked me if I washappy. I couldn’t remember the last time someone actually cared to hear my answer. Jules did and knowing that made me feel like shit. Shit I didn’t want to look at closely, and shit I never felt before.

“I know you don’t know much about hockey, Jules. My role on the ice is to be tough. I need to be like a fortress, protecting our goal and my teammates. That is my job. I’m pretty good at it, and yes, it makes me happy. Am I happy? I don’t even know.”

Again, Jules didn’t speak. He plucked the empty wine glass from my hand and got up to refill it. I rested my head back on the swinging bench, enjoying the gentle swaying motion. It was still balmy outside. I’d put my zipper hoodie on about an hour ago, but mainly to protect myself from being eaten by mosquitoes. It was a beautiful night, with the stars sparkling over our heads and a gentle breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees around us.

“Are you cold?” Jules asked as he handed me the half empty wine glass.

Or maybe it’s half full.

“No, I’m great actually.“

“You are,” he agreed. I was glad he couldn’t see me blush in the dark.

We stayed on the swing for way too long, talking about everything and nothing. For two people as different as Jules and me, it was strange how much we had in common and how much we had to talk about.

It made it easy to forget that he was hundreds of years old and what he had seen and heard. On that swing under the birch tree he was simply my Jules.

The night turned colder when midnight was only a faint idea in the past. The light turned greyer, drowning out all colour. That was when we made our way into the house. For a moment, I considered hugging him, maybe even giving him a kiss. But then that moment passed, and I found myself in Jules’ beautiful guest room.

Barney followed me into the room, waited until I had taken my clothes off and slipped under the covers in only my boxer shorts. Then he hopped on the bed and curled up somewhere around my knees.

I was out within minutes and slept dreamlessly until the next morning.