Page 4 of Complete Me

For a moment, I’m unsure what to say. I thought I’d be prepared to see him again. God, I was so very wrong. He’s as vibrant as I remember, filling the room with his exuberance. Even hopped up on pain meds after a near-death experience, he radiates energy and life. “I’m well. I saw the news about the robbery. They finally released your name to the press. You’re all over the TV.” I cross my legs and smirk. “You always loved being the center of attention.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, the lines a bit deeper than I recall, though he’s still ridiculously handsome. There’s not a speck of gray in his chestnut brown hair. It’s cut close on the sides but left a bit longer on top. His dark scruff, almost but not quite long enough to be called a beard, accentuates his square jaw but doesn’t hide his full lips. He catches me staring, and that plush mouth turns up in a lazy smile. “Keeps the attention away from you. Just how you like it.”

“True.” I uncross my legs and lean in. “How are you? Really.”

His hand twitches like he wants to reach for me again, and I appreciate that he doesn’t. So much so that I almost want to reach for him. Almost. But it’s been too long. “I’m okay. They’re letting me go home tomorrow. Thank god, because I’m bored out of my mind just lying here.”

“And you’re going to go home to do what? Chores? Go for a hike?” I shake my head. “They’re going to put you on restricted activity. Bedrest, or at least couch rest. So you won’t be doing much more there than you are here.”

Bjorn pouts, and it shouldn’t be so charming. Except everything he does is charming. It’s always been that way. And being this close reminds me how much I loved being around his energy. How does he still affect me so much? There’s no point fighting my smile because the charismatic ass knows that lower lip of his is potent. “Why are you being mean to me? We haven’t seen each other in almost five years, and you stroll in here, all bossy, and say awful things.” I snort, trying to fight his charm. It’s a losing battle. “At least I can play video games at home. I bought that awesome new RPG everyone’s been waiting for. Instead of watching reruns of old cooking shows, I could be home playing that.”

I’m almost positive I know which game he means, and it’s been consuming my time for weeks. “The one based on D&D? How far are you?”

Bjorn’s eyes light up. “I made it to the troll encampment. Not sure how I’m going to play things yet. I might try to bluff my way through the negotiations.”

I agree with his approach, if his charisma is high enough. And Bjorn’s characters are basically replicas of himself, so I’m sure his plan will work. “It’s a sound strategy. You don’t have the druid in your party yet?”

He points at me. “Ha! I knew you’d be playing!” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Who are you romancing?”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Bjorn, the game isn’t a romance simulator. It’s about saving lives. If you constantly take breaks to woo characters, everyone could die.”

He relaxes into his pillow and crosses his distractingly muscular arms. “Who?”

With a resigned sigh, I give in. He’ll wait me out until I do. “The mage.”

His nose wrinkles, and his full lips pull down into a frown. “Really? He’s so…”

“Extra? Boisterous? Needs to be the life of the party? The center of attention?” I raise my eyebrow, and those lips curve into a self-satisfied, toothy grin. Asshole.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m romancing the vampire.”

With great effort, I keep the surprise from my expression. The vampire with white-blond hair and unusually colored eyes. I ignore how my heart beats a little faster. “Interesting choice.”

“He has a tragic backstory.”

I shake my head because my god, that’s so Bjorn. “Always with the need to be the hero, even in video games.”

He shrugs. “Can’t change who I am.”

“True, if you don’t want to. And if you’re happy with how that’s working for you, then keep at it.” The infinitesimal wince might be due to his injury. More likely, I’ve hit a nerve. “How is that working for you?”

“Fuck off.” I laugh because there’s no malice in his tone, though his scowl tells me everything. “Did you come here to harass me?” He narrows his eyes. “Why did you really come here?”

“I told you. It’s a slow news week, so local coverage has been all about your heroics. Did you honestly have to throw yourself between the hostage and the guy with the knife?” The mention of the knife makes him wince again. “I’m sorry. I know you have… feelings about criminals with knives. And it’s not my business.” Not anymore.

An awkward silence grows as we both remember why that is, and I wonder, not for the first time, if things would have worked out differently if I hadn’t been so focused on my career, or Bjorn hadn’t been so wrapped up in being everything to his siblings. And yet, here we are, five years on, talking and laughing like no time has passed. I take a moment to calm my fraying nerves, finding my center. “How have you been?”

The gratitude in his eyes for the subject change loosens the tightness in my chest. “Good. You know, other than the whole almost dying thing.” He laughs like being stabbed is a joke. “Oh, Erik finally moved back. I don’t think you ever got to meet him. He and his fiancé bought a house out near Carnation. And Gunnar and I are working through things. I think we’re making progress. Finally.” He frowns, and my heart aches for him. Bjorn has always wanted a closer relationship with his youngest brother, and it seems they still haven’t achieved that. “He’s had a bit of a setback because of me.”

He gestures to his injury, and my eyes widen. Their mother’s death was especially difficult for Gunnar. Then again, I can’t imagine it would be easy for anyone to watch their mother bleed out on the sidewalk from a mugging gone wrong. “Damn. Is he okay?”

“Yes and no. He seems to have come to terms with the stabbing, but he fucked up his relationship with his boyfriend in the process.” He grimaces. “I hope they work through it because Jocelin is good for Gunnar.”

“And how’s Astrid?” I always liked Bjorn’s sister. She’s level-headed and irreverent and never took Bjorn’s need to control everything personally. She’d put him in his place when he tried it on her, and I’m guessing she probably hasn’t changed much in that respect.

Talking about her makes Bjorn light up. “She’s great. Her career is on fire, and she has an amazing guy in her life.” A self-deprecating smile replaces the grin. “Hashtag life goals. Right?” His gaze meets mine, and I prepare myself for his next question. “How about you? Seeing anyone?”

There it is. I knew we’d eventually get around to it, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved to get it out of the way, worried about his reaction to my answer, or exhausted by the whole topic. All of the above? “No.” I don’t elaborate. I also don’t miss the widening of his pupils. Why does that make my heart race? “It’s not a priority.”