Page 21 of The Call of Azure (Unexpected Love #3)

Gabriel

“You sure you’re okay?” Blue asks for the third time. He’s in his normal spot, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar as he watches me cut veggies and sauté chicken.

“Of course I am. I’m just making dinner for the guy.

That’s a normal thing to do. I make dinner for you all the time.

It would be rude to have him over to work on our routine around dinner time and not feed him, right?

” While I’m intensely aware that I’m rambling and my voice is at least an octave higher than normal, I have no idea how to stop it.

I really wish I did. It’s not a good look for me, and it’s not like me to get so worked up.

Especially over something as basic as having a meal with someone.

I’m an incredibly social person, and eating with other people is my comfort zone.

Before Blue moved in with Ethan, I probably ate a dozen meals on my own over the course of six years.

This is a completely in-character, perfectly normal thing to do. The cooking, not the panic.

Even though our schedules don’t align very often, over the past three and a half weeks, Liam and I have met up on a handful of occasions.

Each time, we’ve met at the aquatic center, and I’ve watched him perform and interact with the kids who squish their faces against the tanks in the way he normally would.

It’s given me a good idea of how often he needs to surface for air when he’s not doing anything overly strenuous and what his natural movement patterns look like.

He’s also spent some time showcasing some of his more impressive underwater movement skills.

When I’ve asked him to combine specific elements into patterns that I think will mirror the choreography I’ve been working on for my own routine, he’s done so without hesitation or questioning my requests.

The less time I spend thinking about how effortlessly he’s obeyed my instructions, the better.

It’s all too easy for me to get swept away in thoughts of him following my commands in less-than-professional situations when I let my fantasies start down that path.

A couple of times, we’ve grabbed quick coffees together at the center before we’ve gone our separate ways, but we both have busy lives with day jobs and friends and obligations to tend to, and we haven’t spent much time talking about anything other than choreography and logistics.

I’m thankful for that. It’s given me time to adjust to having him in my life without allowing myself to pine over our few stolen intimate moments last year.

While I still find him attractive enough to want to climb him like a tree, I’ve been able to convince my brain that he’s a colleague and nothing more.

Neither of us has mentioned our little dalliance, so I’m just going to assume that he doesn’t realize it was with me, keep my crush on him in a tight little box, and be the grown-up performer that I am.

I’ve done a good job of it so far, but tonight feels different somehow.

I know he’s coming to my place simply because this is where I practice, and I need to show him what I’ve put together so we can start working to combine our performances into one cohesive piece.

I know that having him here to watch me is no different and no less professional than it’s been when I’ve been at the center watching him.

Still, having him in my space, in my home, feels…

vulnerable. I only had my place in the city for a few weeks before Blue stumbled into my life and moved into my spare bedroom.

Before that, I bounced around for a couple of years, staying with friends for a few days at a time, or renting cheap shared spaces for a few months when I could manage it.

My life is different now than it was back then.

I’m different now. I’m closing in on thirty, and I’ve become someone who closely resembles a grown-up.

I’ve worked hard to build a life that I love, and I’m proud of all I’ve accomplished.

So when Blue and Ethan moved in together, it felt like I should try living by myself, and I spent a lot of time searching for a place that would perfectly suit my needs.

The old, remodeled warehouse loft space located above one of the art studios owned by the Emerald City Arts Gallery Group is a bit unorthodox, sure, but it’s mine.

Well, mine and Cupcake’s. Still, no matter how much work and time and money I’ve put into making it feel like a home, it always feels just a bit too large, just a bit too empty.

The idea of Liam’s broad shoulders and long hair in my space, his pale silver-blue eyes staring back at me from my couch or dining table, somehow seems to highlight just how alone I feel here sometimes.

When Blue’s arm slips around my shoulders, I’m startled enough that I fumble the knife I’m holding, but I recover quickly enough that I hope Blue doesn’t notice.

I have to hope he also doesn’t notice the tiny squeak that escapes before I can stop it.

I’m not usually a jumpy guy, but I didn’t even notice him slide off his seat and cross the room.

“You like this guy,” he teases and flicks my ear.

“I don’t. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I mean well…of course I like him, or I wouldn’t be so excited to perform with him like this, but I just like him as a colleague.” I elbow him in the ribs to drive the point home.

Blue instantly collapses to the floor, moaning as if I’ve stabbed him and he’s dying a slow, painful death.

His theatrics won’t work on me. I’m the one he learned most of them from, after all.

I choose to ignore his death throes and the way his gaze follows me even while he’s dying, and simply step over him as I make my way to the sink to fill the rice pot with water.

“Hey.” His hand around my ankle stops me as I step over him a second time to get back to the stove.

“It really is okay, you know. You’ve had other performers over here when you’re working on new routines.

There’s a reason you chose to live in a place that could accommodate your silks.

If you’re really not into this guy or not interested in dating still, then just…

I don’t know, man…calm down and be normal.

You’re going to eat and work out your choreography, and that’s it.

Totally normal and totally cool. If you are into him, cough, I think you are, then just…

do the same thing and keep an open mind.

No one is asking you to marry the guy tonight, and no one is asking you to sign away your firstborn in the promise that you’ll never be interested in more, okay?

You love planning new shows, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite as excited as you are for this one, so there’s no reason for you to be freaking out. Just relax and enjoy your night.”

You’d think it would be weird to have a conversation with Blue while he’s lying on my kitchen floor and I’m hovering over him with a full pot of hot water, but it’s not.

We’ve supported each other through years of loss and heartbreak and loneliness.

We’ve learned to embrace life and joy and to appreciate small things like good coffee and late-night ice cream and the love of a friend.

We’ve cheered one another on as we’ve pursued our passions for the arts, held one another up during moments of failure, and created our own little family.

This is absolutely not the weirdest position we’ve had a serious conversation in.

I haven’t told Blue about my first meeting with Liam in the club.

It’s not the kind of thing I’d normally keep from him, and I’m not entirely sure why I have.

Sure he knows that I had a hot hook up that night, but when Liam suddenly reappeared in my life, I kept the fact that he’d been that hookup to myself.

Some part of me wants to say that it’s because it was too intimate and precious a moment to share with anyone else, but Blue and I normally share everything.

I know way more about his and Ethan’s sex life than I probably should.

If I’m honest with myself…which is something I try not to do in excess, it’s because I know Blue will give me endless shit about having coincidentally run into Liam so many times.

He’ll start rambling about how it must be the universe’s way of pushing us together until we give in and fall in love.

When he took my place as the die-hard romantic of our little friend group, I’m not entirely sure.

I know I’m hiding my first meeting with Liam from Blue because even though I’ve never believed in fate and tarot cards and fortune tellers, the romantic in me wants to.

The part of me that gave up hoping for magic instead of simply connection a long time ago still wonders if there isn’t just the teeniest possibility that things like that might be true.

I sink down, not even attempting to control my descent, and Blue grunts when my ass settles on his stomach.

“I honestly don’t know why I’m so worked up over him, babe.

I mean, he’s hot, yeah, but lots of guys are hot.

There’s just something about him that makes it impossible for me to think when he’s around.

I’m trying my best to control myself, but I want to kiss him until I can’t breathe, or put him on his knees and call him good boy, or tie him up tightly for hours, or make him eat ice cream in pajamas with me. ”

Blue chuckles and pats my thighs reassuringly.

“Well, maybe one day, you’ll decide to do those things, but tonight, just feed him and work on your routine and relax.

Take a breath. This isn’t who you are. You’re perfect and fun and confident.

You’ll figure out what you really want eventually. You’ll see.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

I jolt and nearly drown him as water sloshes out of the pot when he smacks my ass.

“Now up. Ethan and I have dinner plans, and you have to cook for your man.”

“Not my man!” I growl as I stand and put the pot on the stove.

Blue bolts for the front door before I can reach out to pinch his nipple.

“We’ll see,” he yells with a laugh and quickly shuts the door behind him so I can’t respond.

Yeah, not telling him about my moment with Liam in the club bathroom is definitely the right choice.

I don’t need him getting any more ideas about my love life and how Liam might fit into it.