Page 42 of Chasing After You

Josh was very still as I finished explaining, the rim of his glass hovering just beneath his lips. He didn’t blink for several seconds. I could almost hear the gears grinding behind his eyes.

“…Youcultivatedher addiction?” he finally said, sounding incredulous.

I didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“That’s…” He trailed off, eyes darting to the side before returning to mine. “That’s horrible, Dorian.”

I gave a languid shrug. “She was horrible. I just recycled it back to her.”

He stared at me, the glass finally lowering to the table. “You’re not joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I asked softly.

He didn’t answer.

I leaned forward just a touch. “Would you rather I’d killed her?”

“No!” His voice was louder than intended, drawing a glance from an occupied table behind us. He winced, visibly shrinking in his seat. “No,” he repeated under his breath. “That’s not… that’s not what I meant.”

I sat back, giving him space. “I didn’t kill her. She’s alive. Fed. Medicated. Lounging on daybeds and complaining to staff about the flavor of her smoothies. And she can’t hurt anyone else anymore. That doesn’t sound that horrible, does it?”

Josh rubbed his temple with one hand. “God… You really meant it when you said you changed.”

“You don’t survive in a house like ours without changing,” I replied coolly. “You just had the decency to change into someone gentle, someone people could love easily.”

He gave me a wary look. “And you think people can’t love you?”

“I think people can’t understand me,” I answered with a small smile. “But I don’t mind. I’m not really interested in people. Just you.”

Josh flushed immediately, the color rising into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Dorian…”

“I told you,” I murmured, lowering my voice just enough to keep it between us. “I’m not here to play pretend. You mean something to me that no one else does.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he whispered urgently. “We’re—we’re brothers. Even if it’s not by blood, it’s—”

“You’re not disgusted, though,” I interrupted, watching his pupils dilate. “You’re scared. That’s not the same.”

“I’m not attracted to you.”

“I didn’t ask,” I replied smoothly, eyes half-lidded as they took in his flinch at my response. “But you’re more than welcome to continue trying to convince yourself of that.”

He went quiet again, hands curled tightly around his drink. I could tell he was fighting it—fightingme—but he wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t storming off or throwing his drink in my face. He was still here, in front of me, cheeks tinged red, breathing just a little too fast.

I reached out slowly, my fingers brushing against his on the edge of the table. He didn’t jerk away. Not right away, anyway.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Josh,” I said honestly. “If you everreallywant me to stop, I will. But you need to say it with conviction.”

He stared at our hands, then pulled his back, placing it firmly in his lap. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I tilted my head. “Okay.”

He blinked, thrown by the ease of my agreement. “Just like that?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

His brow furrowed, unsure whether to believe me, but he sat a little straighter. “So… whatdoyou do all day, if you don’t have a job?”

“I read,” I said. “I go to museums, I collect expensive things, sometimes I travel. Other times I just… watch people. I’m good at watching.”