Page 31 of The Loneliest Dragon at Christmas

How could he present something like that to Avery?

Shame burned his throat. Thank the forest spirits that he’d left it in his coat pocket.

“You should try the tart.” Avery gestured to the fine delicacy sitting on porcelain plates. Not a chip or mark on a single bit of crockery in Avery’s home.

Jack placed his teacup down and picked up the tart. He lifted it and took a bite. The berries burst in his mouth, so fresh and juicy.

“How is it?” Avery leaned forward.

“It’s delicious,” Jack answered truthfully. “Incredible.” Jack glanced at Avery’s face, but he struggled to make eye contact. It all felt too awkward, too weird, now he knew how wealthy and socially above him Avery was.

“I’m so glad.”

Then Jack realised Avery ate his tart with a fork. Jack’s cheeks flushed. He had just picked his tart up with his fingers and bit into it like some barbarian swine. Jack swallowed the tart, his throat painfully tight.

He hadn’t felt like this in years, not since his aunt and uncle had turned their back on them. He’d never wanted to feel like that again. He’d never wanted to feel self-conscious and like he was burning with shame for who he was.

He hated it. He hated being here.

Jack finished the tart and tea as fast as he could. “I should get going.” Jack rose.

“Already?” Avery stood. “But you just got here.”

“I ahh… I have to work at the Christmas markets tonight. I didn’t really work last night, and I couldn’t get the whole night off today.” Jack stared at the carpet, ashamed of the lie that fell from his lips.

Jack hated lying. But he had to get out of here. He had to escape.

“I see.” Avery stepped closer. “Well, thank you for coming all this way. It was so good to see you.”

Then Jack made the mistake of looking at him.

Avery stared at him, his gaze so open and vulnerable. Jack felt the urge to reach out and pull Avery into his arms. He wanted to forget about all this other stuff, about their differences, about money, about servants, about fresh summer berries in winter.

But he couldn’t. They did not belong together. They just didn’t.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut as the pain flared in his chest. He had to get out of here. He turned and walked away.

And he walked straight into the table in the middle of the room. The vase teetered. Jack reached out. He grabbed at stems as the table toppled and the vase smashed onto the floor. Water spilled out, and flowers crumpled. Jack clutched at the flowers he’d managed to grab, crushing the stems.

“Bloody broomsticks!” Jack stared at the broken mess. “I’m sorry.”

Jack fell to his knees. He began to pick up the broken shards of ceramic and destroyed flowers, gathering them into his arms.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll pay you back.” How much did a vase like this cost? “I can pay for it!” He almost laughed. He couldn’t pay for it. He’d have to borrow money. A lot of money. His heart pounded. His hands shook as he tried to clean up the mess. “I can?—”

“Jack.” A hand squeezed his shoulder. Avery knelt beside him. “Don’t worry about it.” Avery took the shattered vase and destroyed flowers from Jack’s hands and placed them back on the ground. “It’s nothing.” He smiled like he meant it.

Nothing.

Jack looked at the damage he’d caused. This expensive vase and these exotic flowers were nothing to Avery.

Jack’s pride demanded he should insist he pay for them. But that would be reckless. He didn’t have the money. So he shoved his pride down deep inside him and nodded.

“And Daniel can clean this up. Please don’t worry. Please don’t be upset.”

Jack rose, body numb. “I am really sorry.”

Avery smiled. “It’s fine.” He squeezed Jack’s arms. “It’s not a big deal.”