Page 5 of Complete Me

He nods, like he expected the answer, but he’s doing a good job of keeping his reaction neutral. When he changes the subject, I relax. “So, you’re still interpreting?”

“Yes. I’m actually headed to the university when I leave here to meet a new client who’s a student.”

Bjorn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Isn’t that a big commitment? You didn’t want to be tied down to one client. Seems like interpreting for a student would be a full-time investment.”

All too well, I recall our last conversation about that. How, at the time, going to the same places day after day, interpreting the same topics over and over, seemed stifling. It’s why I became certified in multiple areas, rather than the more common single focus. It had been challenging, but the extra effort to achieve the additional certifications was worth it. But that meant interpreting at odd hours, in various places across the state. My schedule was a whirlwind of travel, and it didn’t allow much time for a relationship. Especially with someone who also had a job with difficult hours, and a family he was devoted to. It’s why Bjorn and I ultimately didn’t work out. “It’s a commitment, but this student’s part of the master’s program, which means fewer classes. Many are online now, so there are minimal constraints on my time.” That earns me a non-committal hum from Bjorn. “But to answer your real question, I’ve had my fill of running from one end of the state to the other. I’m discovering the joy of staying in one place for longer than three nights.”

“Is that so?” Bjorn doesn’t hide his grin, and my heart races again.

“It is. And what about you?”

He shakes his head in confusion. “What about me?”

I raise an eyebrow, keeping the rest of my expression flat. “You’ve basically told me all of your chicks are out of the nest now. You’ve been injured quite severely, and you’re pushing forty, if I remember correctly. And unless something has drastically changed, you don’t have to work.”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest in an all too familiar gesture. “Your point?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m simply asking a question. As a friend.” I realize I may have overstepped. We parted amicably and said we’d stay friends but haven’t kept in touch. At all. Damn. I push to my feet. “I apologize. It’s none of my business.”

Bjorn’s anger evaporates. “We are friends. At least I’d like us to be. And you’re not pointing out anything I don’t already know.” He glances out the window and a slight frown tugs at his mouth. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot about that, when my mind isn’t fuzzy with pain meds.” He looks back at me. “What would I do?”

The question Bjorn leaves unspoken is, who would he be if he wasn’t out saving people? That’s not something I can answer. “It depends on what you want. Once you know the answer to that, the rest will fall in line.”

Before either of us can say anything to make things more awkward, there’s a knock on the door. “It’s probably my soon-to-be brother-in-law.” At my raised eyebrow, he grins. “Erik’s fiancé. He’s been here for a little while and I’ve been expecting him to pop in.” He looks toward the door. “Come in.”

The door opens, and a very tall, classically attractive, male-presenting person with a straight nose, closely cropped facial hair, a light blond man bun, and dark-rimmed glasses steps into the room. His faded denim button-down is paired with navy chinos, and the look is pulled together by a pale gray blazer with rolled sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. It’s very librarian or professorial. This must be Bjorn’s brother-in-law. When he steps into the room, his eyes skim over me, barely sparing me a glance before locking on Bjorn. “Hello.”

Bjorn’s mouth drops open, but milliseconds later he’s grinning like a fiend. “Ho-ly shit. Xander.”

3

Xander

Once I’m face-to-face with him again, it takes a moment to catch my breath. After two years, Bjorn Osouf still makes my pulse race. Even in a drab hospital gown, his pallor gray, with dark circles under his eyes, and recovering from a stab wound that almost killed him, he’s confident and sexy as ever. Bastard. I spare a glance to the person standing near the bed and slow my progress, taking a second, longer look. The strikingly attractive stranger is all angular features and loads of self-confidence. I snap my eyes to Bjorn, pointedly ignoring his incredibly attractive guest since they don’t fit into my plan. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll come back.”

“It’s alright.” The blond’s bright green eyes peer into my very soul. I do my best not to stare back, but damn, it’s difficult. “I was just leaving.” Hesitantly, they reach in Bjorn’s direction before patting the blanket over his leg. “It was good to see you. I’m glad you’re better.” Their eyes meet briefly, and I narrow mine, wondering who they are to each other. “Take care, Bjorn.”

Bjorn looks like he wants them to stay, and a stab of absolutely unwanted jealousy slices through me. With gritted teeth, Bjorn pushes himself into a sitting position, and what little color he had drains from his face. “Kaino.”

Kaino. An unusual name for an uncommonly beautiful person. I hate it on principle. Kaino smiles at Bjorn but turns away. It’s only as they glide past me with effortless grace that I realize how petite they are, barely coming past my shoulder. I feel like a lumbering, graceless clod in comparison. Not needing the negative energy, I refocus on Bjorn, who gives me infinitely better feelings. “Are you up for another visitor? Or should I come back?”

Bjorn is obviously lagging, but he smiles and holds out his arms. “Get over here.”

With a rush of relief, I stride across the remaining distance, and rather than sitting in the chair, I plop myself on the edge of Bjorn’s bed, leaning down to sink into the hug. “You’re an idiot.” I bury my nose in his hair and breathe in the mix of shampoo, sweat, and hospital. It’s not the best combination, but there’s still the scent of Bjorn under it all. “Do you not have a single ounce of self-preservation?” I sit up and let him go, bringing his hand to my lips to kiss his knuckles.

His laugh fills the room, and something inside my chest relaxes. “Hello to you too, Xander.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Unable to help myself, I press a kiss to his cheek, which, to my surprise, he leans into. “How are you doing?”

He slowly lowers himself onto his pillow, and I smooth out the blanket for him. “Honestly?”

I look at him over my glasses. “No. Please lie to me.”

His smile is a fraction of what it was. “I’m tired. And there’s still a bit of pain, even though they gave me a low dose of the good drugs earlier. With all the moving around I’ve been doing, I’m counteracting the effectiveness.” I give him my best displeased look, which only makes him waggle his eyebrows. “That’s also not having the intended effect. You know your stern professor look does it for me.” He squeezes my hand. “Do you want me to play the naughty student?”

In spite of myself, I laugh. “You’re ludicrous.”

“But you looooove it.” He singsongs the words, and I hate that he’s right. His energy wanes, and he sags into the mattress. “It’s good to see you.”

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