Page 36 of Complete Me

This time, I reach for Bjorn’s champagne with a wink, but he laughs, lifting it out of my grasp. “Hey! Get your own.” One of the servers sees the raised glass and changes course. They hold out the tray of flutes, and Bjorn takes one, thanks the server, and hands it to me. “Speaking of drinks, are you still up for getting a coffee or something after?”

I’m a bit nervous, now that the planned discussion is imminent. But we need to talk about who we are to each other and come to some consensus. The ambiguity is playing havoc with my nerves. “Sure. I’d love to. How was dinner?”

Xander makes an aggrieved sound. “It was wonderful after the twink from hell stopped flirting with Bjorn.” At my raised eyebrow, Xander goes off. “Clearly, Bjorn and I were there on a date, but Gabriel”—he says the name with what I assume is an appropriate accent—“the Portuguese twinkzilla, all but mounted Bjorn in the middle of the restaurant. You should have seen him sashaying around, wiggling his pert little ass in everyone’s faces.”

Bjorn leans close, sliding a hand along my lower back and sending shivers through me. “It wasn’t as bad as all that.”

I snort. “It sounds dreadful. Glad I missed it.”

Xander’s whole demeanor changes to full-on excited mode. “But you must come with us next time.”

Bjorn’s eyebrows raise, and he’s obviously fighting a grin. “So, we’re going back?”

“Obviously. How could we not?” Xander all but swoons. “The food was to die for. Bjorn had the pork, and I had the seafood stew. And there were these custard tarts at the end, accompanied by lovely glasses of port.” Some may think his drama is draining, but I love his passion. He feels things deeply and isn’t afraid to express that or have an opinion. “Kaino, you’ll love it.”

Bjorn and I share an amused glance. “It certainly sounds like it. But perhaps we can do without the twink from hell.”

“Definitely.” Xander frowns. “Did you get to eat? I considered bringing you something from the restaurant, but it’s not really the kind of food that keeps well.”

I stare at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “I had something before I got here, but thank you. That’s very sweet.”

He reaches out and squeezes my hand once, then lets it go. “Well, we can’t have you starving. What kind of friends would we be?”

Warmth spreads up my arm, and my heart beats a little faster. I’ve been wondering about that very thing. “It’s nice to have such good friends.”

Xander leans close, eyes darting around the crowd. “So, how long does this thing go? Bjorn has something he wants to talk to us about, and I’m dying of curiosity.”

“And we have something to speak with him about, too.” Xander nods, his expression very serious. I cup his jaw, letting the tips of my fingers drag through his short beard. “Sophia is taking a quick break, and then we have about another forty-five minutes before the gallery closes. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Xander’s dramatic exhale is comical, and I burst out laughing. Bjorn casually kisses the side of my head, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s laying claim or just being his usual affectionate self. “I’ll do my best to keep him breathing.”

From my periphery, I see Sophia reenter the gallery from the office area, and gesture her way. “My artist is back. I’ll see you both in a bit.”

The next forty-five minutes drag by. I love my job, but tonight, I’d rather be with Bjorn and Xander. There’s a possibly life-changing conversation we need to have, and I’m eager to get to it. After what seems like an eon, I say goodbye to Sophia and the gallery owner, then leave with Bjorn and Xander. “Okay, where should we go?” Both Xander and Bjorn look at each other, then at me, and shrug. With a sigh, I jerk my head toward my favorite coffee shop. “This way. We have time for one coffee at Love ’n Cup before they close for the night.”

Xander’s face lights with interest. “Oh, I’ve heard students talking about that place. LGBTQ owned and staffed, great atmosphere. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

I place my palm against my chest and gasp. “You actually listen to students when they aren’t talking about the classics?”

“Every once in a very great while, one of them has something worthwhile to share.”

Laughing, I take Xander’s hand and hook my arm through Bjorn’s, tugging them along. When we get to the cafe, I usher them inside. The scent of coffee and pastries swirls around us, and I inhale deeply. “Oh, god, that’s good.” Bjorn and Xander glance everywhere, taking in the LGBTQ flags and portraits of famous activists covering the walls. There’s no doubt this place is LGBTQ friendly. I feel Xander freeze, and then he’s making a beeline for the pastry case.

Groaning, Bjorn follows right behind. “God, Xander, how can you be hungry? We ate so much at dinner. Including dessert.”

Xander glares at Bjorn over his shoulder before turning his attention to the sweets. “Shush. I’m just looking.”

A low chuckle from the back room precedes the appearance of a mountain of a man covered in black ink. “If you have any questions, just ask. I’m Bill, by the way. I baked all of these fresh, earlier today.” He glances at Bjorn and then blinks. “Please don’t think I’m being forward, because that’s not my intent, but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and ask if you happen to be an Osouf.”

Laughing, Bjorn nods and holds out his hand. “I’m Bjorn. I take it you know one of my siblings.”

They shake hands, Bill’s grin as wide as Bjorn’s. “Two of ’em. Erik and Gunnar stop in now and then. Erik more often, because Jules loves my petit fours.” He glances at me. “And I think I’ve seen you here a few times before, too. With Tadhg?”

“Yes. We meet here a few times a month. The atmosphere is welcoming. And you don’t use coconut in your baked goods.”

Bill nods knowingly. “Allergy?”

“Yes.”

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