Page 50

Soren

A bell rang as Soren led Gabe through the door of his favorite diner.

At some point during the drive over, the bigger man had grabbed Soren’s hand, seemingly without noticing, and now he was still clinging to it like some sort of lifeline, his usual cocky swagger completely gone. The rare sign of vulnerability was doing very strange things to Soren’s heart.

A large blonde woman with Sheryl on her name tag led them both to a corner booth. Excellent . It was an incontrovertible fact that booths were infinitely better than regular old tables and chairs.

Rudy’s was a breakfast spot Danny had introduced Soren to, on one of the few occasions he and Soren had been on their own together.

Soren was fond enough of his friend Roman’s adorable mate, but he wouldn’t say he and Danny had a lot in common, necessarily.

Danny was sweet, compassionate, caring. And Soren was… Soren.

One thing they did share, however, was love for a good greasy spoon.

Soren reluctantly let go of Gabe’s hand as they sat in the booth. It was so rare the human allowed any physical contact between them. Soren was tempted to try to pull Gabe over to sit on his side instead. But that would probably be pushing his luck.

Soren ordered coffee for himself and Gabe and ignored the menu in front of him. He had it memorized at this point.

Technically, Soren didn’t need human food at all to survive, but he liked the taste of it anyway.

The ritual of it too. No one realized how important the act of eating was to human society until they were no longer a part of it.

And as long as Soren had his regular diet of human blood, his inner vamp didn’t care what else he put in his body.

Sheryl placed their coffees in front of them moments later, and Soren eyed Gabe critically while the other man ordered his breakfast. The human was still looking dazed, his golden-brown eyes glassy. Not surprising after the full-blown panic attack he’d had in the car.

Soren should have read the human better.

He’d realized Gabe was tense back at the hospital, acting more irritable and nervous than usual. But Soren had just thought Gabe was annoyed at him for showing up without warning instead of waiting for him outside.

The human could be a stick in the mud like that.

Soren supposed he could have waited outside.

But he hadn’t been able to resist the idea of seeing Gabe in his natural habitat.

There was something about the man that made Soren want to study him, like an insect under a microscope.

Was Gabe a blustery douchebag in his official doctor capacity?

Or was he secretly tenderhearted, holding patients’ hands and convincing them all was right with the world?

Plus, Soren had wanted the full white-coat visual, but Gabe had disappointed him in that matter. The man wore scrubs but no coat.

The human really lacked a proper sense of drama.

But then he’d more than made up for it by disrobing right in front of Soren in the locker room.

A fact that Soren was regretting a little now.

After the emotional moment in the car, he didn’t feel quite right about his lingering arousal.

But he’d never been very good at denying himself anything he wanted, and given the opportunity to watch Gabe take his clothes off, he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation.

And Christ, that man had a scrumptious body. Tanned and well muscled, with a lean edge to him from all those long runs he went on. Soren had had no shame in ogling that shirtless chest.

“How did you know what to do back there?” Gabe’s hesitant question broke through Soren’s thoughts. Probably for the best , he reflected, shifting in his seat and fighting the urge to adjust his hardening cock. It really had been too long since he’d had a man.

Right, Soren. Focus.

He debated dodging the question. Evading probing questions was one of Soren’s many talents. But for some stupid reason, he was compelled to go with the truth.

“I’ve been there myself,” he offered.

Gabe scoffed at that, but it lacked his usual bite. Definitely not fully back to himself, then. “You’ve had panic attacks? What is there for you to possibly be afraid of? You’re, like, invincible.”

“Immortal, not invincible,” Soren corrected, taking a sip of his coffee. “We can be killed. Beheading. Fire.” Why was he giving the vampire hater information on how to kill him? His mouth went on without his permission. “Besides, there is a world of hurt beyond just killing.”

Gabe gave him a sharp look at that.

Maybe Soren had given too much away with that answer. Because that was the annoying thing about Danny’s boorish brother. The fact that, when it came down to it, he wasn’t really boorish at all.

He was an idiot, of course. Classic American male with too many emotions and no idea what to do with any of them. Like the way he’d been pushing his family away for years when it was clear to anyone with half a brain they meant the world to him. Idiot, for sure.

But Gabe still picked up on a lot despite all that. Maybe he could read hints of Soren’s past in his face. It was unlikely. Not even Roman, who’d somehow wormed his way into becoming Soren’s closest friend these past decades, knew Soren’s whole story.

Which was for the best. Opening up to people meant opening up to future pain.

Soren knew that well.

But Gabe’s panic attack in the car had left Soren…curious. He found himself wanting to crack his human’s head open and peer inside. See if he could untangle the mess he was sure he’d find there.

Well, not his human. Just the human. Regular, old, boring human.

Right.

They drank their coffee in silence until their breakfast arrived. Pancakes—lightly cooked, doughy on the inside, the only right way to make them—with whipped cream and berries for Soren. Eggs and toast with bacon for Gabe.

Soren eyed his companion’s plate distastefully.

“Boring,” Soren accused, needing to say it out loud.

“Classic,” Gabe corrected, narrowing his eyes, unable to hide his annoyance. It was his go-to look when it came to Soren.

For some reason, it made Soren want to smile. And, since he always did what he wanted, he did. Grinned wide and bright.

Gabe blinked at him.

Soren grinned wider. “Have some,” he ordered, cutting off a portion of his pancakes and placing them on Gabe’s plate.

Gabe shook his head. “I don’t need the sugar.”

Soren huffed. “It’s not about need; it’s about want .”

“People want lots of things that are bad for them.”

And didn’t Soren know it. “That’s half the fun, Highness.”

Gabe gave him a skeptical look. Soren didn’t know why he was pushing this—annoying Gabe to death was probably at odds with Soren’s grand seduction plan—but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Come on, take a bite. Don’t you ever just do what you want?”

It took Gabe, staring at the pancake piece on his plate, a moment to answer. When he did, he sounded…blank. Void.

Soren didn’t like it at all.

“No, not really,” Gabe muttered. “Not for a long time, anyway.”

Soren shook his head. This man. “You and Danny have the same kind of sickness. You just exhibit different symptoms. He never did what he wanted either, until Roman came around.”

Gabe gave a bitter laugh, ignoring Soren’s pancake offering for a bite of his bacon. “Well, he’s certainly doing what he wants now. How long do you think before he runs off into the sunset and leaves this god-awful town for good?”

“Why would you think he’s going to do that?” Soren raised his chin, his voice indignant. He ignored the fact that he agreed with Gabe on the god-awful town part.

Gabe kept his gaze on his plate. “That’s what I would do, if I was suddenly immortal, with another immortal, rich lover to foot the bill. Why stay here?”

Soren spoke before thinking it through. “Because your brother is a sweet boy, mindful of his responsibilities. You’re projecting your own selfishness onto him.”

Gabe winced, a look of real hurt crossing over his face, and Soren tried to ignore how that expression felt like a knife twisting in his own gut.

A thought came to him. “Is that why you hate Roman so much? You think he’s going to take Danny away from you? Your little brother, who you’ve always counted on being exactly where you left him?”

“I don’t hate Roman.” Gabe didn’t deny the rest.

Soren leaned across the table, smacking Gabe—lightly, mindful of his superior strength—on the side of his head. “Idiot.”

Gabe hissed and held a hand to the spot Soren had smacked. What a baby . “Why am I an idiot?” he asked, glaring at Soren.

“Your brother isn’t going anywhere. At least, not anytime soon. You should focus on appreciating what you have, not on some hypothetical future of pain.”

Gabe ran a hand through his hair, his glare dropping. “Well, maybe he should . It’s my turn to shoulder some of his burden. I didn’t realize, before, how thin he’d been stretching himself. I should have, but I didn’t. I can do more.”

When Roman and Soren had first met Danny, he’d been working too much, struggling to pay care home bills he hadn’t told Gabe he was even paying, visiting their mom on his own when Gabe was refusing to be there.

Soren had been judgmental over Gabe’s lack of agency at the time, but he was realizing now there was maybe more to it than just willful denial.

“And how are you going to do that when you couldn’t even get out of the car today?”

Gabe’s face paled at Soren’s question. Christ, Soren really was the worst. Why was he taunting a man who’d just had a full-blown panic attack in front of him?

But Gabe seemed hell-bent on ignoring his own limits, and if Soren needed to remind him of them, he would. It seemed both men in the Kingman family were determined to do it all on their own, no matter what the pressure did to them.

Well, if Gabe needed someone to push him, to force him to acknowledge his own emotions instead of leaving them inside to fester, Soren could definitely do that.

Soren was excellent at getting under people’s skin.