Page 43 of Running Feral

At least Gunnar wants to try. That’s more than I’ve ever gotten from anyone before. It’s a fucking start.

Chapter Fourteen

“You are so smitten,” Kasia says as she pushes past me to reach for more napkins. “It’s disgusting. I think it could be contagious and anyone who gets too close to you is going to walk away looking like an anime character that’s nothing but heart eyes. Who are you and what happened to my lonely, insular friend who buries himself in work and other people’s problems?”

There’s a pause, because I’m not sure which part of that ramble I’m supposed to tackle first.

“Don’t hold back, Kasia. You’re too demure sometimes. Tell me how you really feel.”

She huffs a laugh but continues to talk and polish glasses at the same time.

“So, what happened to all your boundaries? I see he didn’t magically age ten years since last week.”

Sighing, I turn to look at her. I feel a twinge of extra guilt on top of the low thrum of constant guilt that’s pretty much been my companion since all this happened.

“I don’t know. I keep going back and forth on whether I’m being mature and respectful of his autonomy as an adult, or if I’m just making fancy excuses to soothe myself because I gave in to what I wanted, even though I should have put a stop to it. Am I being a gross old man? Or is this not a big deal and I need to stop infantilizing him?”

Kasia rolls her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time so far today. “I swear, you are the most dramatic person I know. And that includes people I met before I gave up on dating.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She freezes, pinning me down with a look. “What do you want? Absolution? I’m not your priest; I don’t have any authority here. Just because I hold a membership card to more oppressed social groups than you do doesn’t make me in charge of right and wrong. Figure your shit out.”

Her tone is sharp, and it’s matched by her movements when she goes back to wiping the glasses. I feel yet another twinge of guilt then, because I didn’t mean to piss her off.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being self-involved. I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t want to do something that Tobias looks back on in a decade with a different perspective and hates me for.”

The biggest, most exhausted sigh comes out of her mouth, but at least some of the fight seems to go out of her.

“Christ. Okay, I’m going to give you exactly one piece of wisdom, because I still owe you in that department. But then we’re talking about something nice, because I’m fucking weary.” She pauses, clearly for dramatic effect. It works, though. “In my experience, the kind of guys who get into gross age-gap relationships are doing it specifically because they want someone they feel like they can control and manipulate. They sought out someone young for that purpose. It’s different from just ending up there. And the people who want thatpower imbalance in a relationship are not sitting up at night contemplating the ethical ramifications of it. ‘K?”

I tip my head from side to side, because I do see what she’s saying. It doesn’t resolve my conflicting emotions, but there’s logic there.

“Oh, and if you imply that being in your thirties makes you objectively old, instead of just older than him, one more fucking time…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but between the rabid look in her eye and the wine glass she’s pointing in my direction, her point is made.

“Oh, that’s right,” I say, a slow smile spreading across my face. “How close are we getting to your birthday? It’s what—a month? Are you excited? Should I get you some cardigans so we can match when you start joining me every evening to sit by the fire and read? Would you like to hear about the advantages of joining the AARP?”

Now she really does shove me in the chest. It’s hard enough to make me hit the counter, but she’s fighting back her laughter the whole time, and so am I.

It feels good. After all the drama of the last couple of weeks, I already feel lighter. And seeing Kasia managing to not get pulled under by the riptide of her own drama is something I think I needed.

When she arrived today, she’d given me a brief rundown about Jorden—he’d been arrested, her lawyer told her things were looking positive for him getting a real sentence this time, and her custody issues were hopefully about to dry up. Which doesn’t cover all her issues, but helps. Then she’d thanked me for my help, and said if I ever mention it again, she’ll put laxative in my whiskey.

I understand. We all need to move on from the sad things before new sad things show up. Which is why I’m pretty proudI’ve got her laughing out loud at me barely an hour after that conversation.

“I’ve never had a real job, but I don’t think you’re supposed to laugh this much at work,” Tobias says, his voice cutting in as he appears from the back.

We’re not open yet, and he’s been here since I came down. I didn’t even have to convince him. He is already a world of better than just a few days ago, and watching him interact with people instead of being forced to hole up in the apartment twenty-four hours a day is a relief.

The bruises on his face are almost faded, just a sallow yellow tinge to the skin under his eye and around his jawline. I know the big one on his ribs is bad, but it’s improving, at least. He’s still limping, but it’s not dramatic anymore. Although that doesn’t make the urge to carry him everywhere any less overwhelming.

Stop it, brain.

“Some normal jobs actually don’t require you to be miserable all the time. I promise. I know it sounds fake, but it’s true. I’m a good boss, right Kasia?”

She throws a napkin at me instead of answering, but I take it as a yes.

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