Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
JAMIE
J amie woke with drool tacky at the corner of his mouth and a pleasant heaviness in his body. He’d actually slept through the night. That alone was a miracle, but even more exciting—he couldn’t remember having a single dream.
He shut his eyes for a moment more, basking in his fuzzy, boneless contentment before reality started to creep back in.
He wasn’t in his apartment in Chicago. He didn’t even have an apartment in Chicago anymore.
He was in Solston. In the guest room of a warlock who was easily the most gorgeous man Jamie had ever personally laid eyes on.
Pulling himself upright, Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face and did a double-take when he caught sight of the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly noon. He’d slept for almost twelve hours.
Getting to his feet, he made his way into the connected bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. He’d been worried about being an imposition on the way there last night. And he still might be, but definitely not for lack of space.
Sigurd had brought them to a row house built of gray stone with smiling gargoyles perched over the door. Inside, he’d been given a quick tour of three stories of worn hardwood floors, muted walls, and well-loved furniture. As cold as the outside seemed in darkness, the inside was warm. Cozy. Safe.
The room Sigurd had shown him to was more of a suite with its small sitting area looking out over the street from a crescent of bay windows and its en-suite bathroom.
Other than being a warlock, Jamie still wasn’t sure what qualified Sigurd to protect him, but he definitely had the space for strays.
He probably should have questioned Sigurd’s qualifications more last night. Before he’d agreed to go home with him. Too late now. Even as his logical side was asking more questions, Jamie felt safe in a way he hadn’t in a really long time.
Somehow, it was enough.
“Jamie?” Sigurd’s voice came through the door along with a gentle knock.
“Come in,” Jamie said, running a hand through his undoubtedly messy hair. The brown strands were getting a little long for his liking. He needed a cut.
The door pushed open- and Sigurd stepped in. His gaze darted from Jamie’s face to the top of his head and then all the way down to his bare feet. The skin above Sigurd’s beard darkened to a rosy pink. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was up. Barely.” Jamie chuckled, a warm squirmy feeling going through his belly at the look Sigurd was giving him.
After a moment, Jamie realized they were just standing there staring at each other and cleared his throat.
“Um, thank you. For bringing me here.” He motioned to the still unmade bed.
“That’s the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in… quite a while.”
Sigurd nodded, finally breaking eye contact to take a deep breath. “Why don’t you get ready, and we can get lunch. Or breakfast in your case.” A small smile lit up his face, like he was pleased Jamie had slept well.
Jamie nodded. “That sounds good.”
Sigurd turned for the door only to pause and look back at Jamie. “I was hoping we could talk about everything we can do to keep you safe and help you acclimate. I want you to be comfortable here.”
We . Jamie wasn’t sure why that mattered so much, but Sigurd speaking about them like they were a team made emotion swell in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Of course.”
Lunch, or breakfast in Jamie’s case, turned out to be happening at a place called Saint’s Tavern. Which, to Jamie, felt like a cozy little pub he might’ve found in his old neighborhood in Chicago. And the food was delicious.
Across from him in their brown leather booth seats, Sigurd chuckled. “I promise if you need more to eat, Bell will be happy to fix you another plate.”
“You know it!” came a shout from the kitchen.
Bell was Bellicent, a gargoyle and the chef.
She’d brought Jamie a plate of hash with sweet potatoes, beef, and a perfectly cooked pair of over-easy eggs on top.
It was so good, he’d completely forgotten he and Sigurd were talking about his security in favor of shoveling food into his face.
Truth was, his appetite had been about as poor as his sleep lately, and the food really was that good.
“Sorry,” Jamie said. He chewed the rest of the bite he’d just taken and wiped his mouth.
“I’ll have none of that.” Sigurd shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “You eat as much as you like.”
Feeling flustered for another reason entirely, Jamie went back to his food. Sigurd was making it hard to remember he should be keeping his guard up.
SIGURD
Sigurd looked out over the gym he’d built—and rebuilt—from the ground up. So many of his peers had laughed at the idea of a gym for paranormals. Gyms were a human thing, they’d said.
Sometimes Sigurd thought his fellows forgot just how human they all really were.
And that’s why everyone was welcome at his gym. It wasn’t just a place to train to fight or to get stronger. It was a place of community, and he was proud of that.
He looked over at Jamie, wanting to see his reaction. The smile on Jamie’s face didn’t disappoint.
“Holy crap, you have one of those fight cages?” Jamie turned his gaze from one section of the gym to the other.
Sigurd chuckled. “We do. We hold fight nights once a month or so, depending on the season.”
Jamie looked at him. “So, is it all fighters that train here?”
“Oh no.” Sigurd shook his head. “We have all kinds. There’s a witch from my coven who leads yoga classes five mornings a week. We’ve got spin classes. Personal trainers to teach free weights and to help people reach whatever goal they’ve set for themselves. My nephew, Wylder, is the lead trainer.”
“That’s really cool.” Jamie fidgeted for a moment. “Can I meet him?”
“Of course.” Warmth coursed through Sigurd, and he only just stopped himself from reaching out to take Jamie’s hand. “I fully intend to introduce you to everyone I know. You’ll be sick of meeting people.”
Something sad flashed across Jamie’s face. There and gone before Sigurd could put a name to it. Then he turned to Sigurd with a small smile.
“That actually sounds really nice. I, uh, I didn’t know a lot of people where I used to live.”
“Come on, then.” Sigurd gently touched the small of Jamie’s back, turning him toward the free weights area. He saw Wylder over there spotting Hollis through a set on the bench press. “You’ll see plenty of Wylder. He more or less runs the gym with me, and he lives on the third floor of the house.”
“Oh. You’re sure I’m not imposing by staying with you?”
Sigurd’s gaze softened at the genuine worry in Jamie’s voice. “Not at all. I regret the circumstances, but I’m happy to have you, Jamie.”
Jamie nodded, but he could tell it was half-hearted.
Time was the only thing that would make Jamie see how honest Sigurd was being.
He hoped they’d have enough of it, which made him feel terrible.
Jamie was scared enough of this stalker that he’d been willing to leave everything he knew behind.
Sigurd didn’t want him to be afraid for another second.
He also didn’t want him to leave.
He’d just have to do his best to show Jamie he was safe and wanted here. That there was more than enough room for him here. Sigurd couldn’t wait to get to know him more, but the considerate way Jamie approached everything already had him hopelessly endeared.