Page 24 of The Gambler's Prize
“Breta will most likely give you a hug tomorrow. She’s very warm and demonstrative.” I shudder. She’ll probably insist on hugging me as well.
“I miss it,” Florian says softly. “As much as I miss hooking up, believe it or not.”
Stars. Why does he insist on slipping into these moments of raw honesty, looking at me with those big eyes, like we’re friends or like I would care about his feelings.
“All right,” I say neutrally.
“Back in the city I would have cuddle dates sometimes,” he goes on, under the misapprehension that I’m interested. “Friends I would just cuddle with. You know how it is.”
I really don’t. I only hugged Jos, my cellmate and best friend, once in prison. It was when he was beaten within an inch of his life. Even then it wasn’t so much ahugas supporting his weight as we staggered back to the cell because he could barely walk.
“Your life is fascinating, Florian,” I say acidly.
“Thanks.”
I look at Florian with narrowed eyes. I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or if he missed my sarcasm.
“You might like it, you know,” he says. He’s fidgeting with one of his bracelets, not nervously now, but playful. His long fingers always draw my gaze when he does that. His manicure has long since been ruined, and there are lines of red dust that he can’t shake under his nails.
“Might like what?” I demand.
“Platonic cuddling.”
I snort. I can’t help it. “Platonic cuddling. For fuck’s sake, now I’ve heard it all. I can assure you I wouldn’t like it.”
“Have you ever tried?” he says.
He just doesn’t quit. I would pay a small fortune to anyone who could find me a foolproof way of shutting him up.
“No, I have not,” I say.
“So how do you know you hate it?”
“I just know.”
He tuts. “You’re very closed-minded, Boss. Just try it. Unless you’re scared.”
“I assure you I’m not scared of you inanyway, Florian.”
He smiles, sidling closer. “I think you might be afraid of cuddling me.”
“Why the hell would I be scared of cuddling you?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Why would you be?”
That decides it. I can’t back down now. With a sigh of annoyance, I open my arms for him.
“Come on, then. Get over here.”
He slips into my arms with disconcerting eagerness, holding me around the waist. He leans his head with its soft dark hair and velvet bow on my shoulder. I’m tall enough to rest my head on top of his. I resist for moment, but it might make him think I’m “scared” of cuddling, so I take a deep breath and lean my chin on his head. His warmth suffuses me. His body feels firm and strong. But there’s something about him that demands protection, something I didn’t notice until this moment. It’s the way he melts so quickly into my embrace. He wasn’t lying earlier. He craves this. Affection, closeness. Even from me, who’s never treated him well.
“Boss, you’re good at this,” he says, snuggling even closer.
“You act like I never hugged anyone before.”
“I was starting to think maybe you hadn’t.”
“Very funny.” I pull away, disentangling his arms from my waist. “Now I’ve proved myself, can we drop this?”
