Chapter Two
Eoin
PRESENT—AUGUST
If my younger self could see me now, he’d sprain a rib laughing.
Or want to know if I’d suffered some kind of traumatic brain injury.
What other reason could there be for me to be stressed over my situationship not being a relationship, as my friend Hagen just said.
Only the fact that we’re at work keeps me from ripping off one of his arms. I’m not usually a violent person—in my profession, a clear head and deliberate actions are best—but said profession has given me a lot of knowledge and skills that would help in the arm-ripping department.
“Don’t call it that” is all I say. “Why are you here, again?” He has his own office down the hall, where he and the other operations rollout people manage infrastructure and resourcing for dragon and elf enclaves around the world.
We’ve mostly integrated with humans and the community of species in their existing cities, but we have some specific needs that the native inhabitants of this planet don’t, and it’s Hagen’s job to manage that.
If I didn’t know he’d been doing it successfully for thousands of years, I’d worry about putting such an important task in the hands of such a feckless dragon.
“I’m here because when I went to pick up a package at reception, I heard the delivery guy ask Dáithí if he’s seeing anyone, and Dáithí said ‘Not really.’ Come the fuck on, man. You gotta step up.”
Ouch. I knew Dáithí didn’t consider me his boyfriend, despite the many, many, many hints I’ve dropped about making it official, but knowing he still considers himself to be pretty much single is a punch to the gut.
“Mind your own business” is all I can think to say. I wasn’t expecting to have to defend my… situationship today.
Ugh. That word is awful.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Hagen plants his ass on the corner of my desk. “So, I’ll ask again, why are you in a situationship and not a relationship?”
I glance around the office, hoping one of my team will rescue me, but they’re mostly staring studiously at their screens, pretending not to listen. Ari, on the other hand, is kicked back in his chair, watching avidly. He’s such a gossip whore.
“What does that even mean, anyway? Situationship.” I spit the word like it tastes bad. Which it does, since it implies that Dáithí and I aren’t in a committed, happy relationship.
“It means what you and Dáithí are doing now, where you act like a couple and fuck like a couple, but won’t own up to the fact that you are a couple.”
Yeah, that sums it up. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope!”
“Even though we’re at work and both have important things to do?”
Hagen scoffs. “Dude, please. Our bosses are the king and Brandt. I can guarantee you that if I asked the wingleader of all dragons if I could ask you about this during work hours, he’d be in here himself, waiting for you to spill the tea.”
I can’t dispute that. Dragons don’t make the most formal of bosses.
“But—”
“If you like,” Ari interrupts, a thread of laughter in his voice, “I can go across the hall and ask the king if it’s okay. He might want us to wait until he can get Jared on the phone to listen in, though.”
There’s a rustle of coughs and stifled chuckles from the rest of the team, and I aim my glare around the room.
“I hate you all.” Ari’s right, though. Both the king and his new consort have hinted about me and Dáithí more than once.
Jared and Dáithí have formed a friendship, but it hasn’t helped me any. Probably because Jared hates me.
“Now that we’ve established that we’re in the right and you hate us,” Hagen says in that annoyingly cheerful way only dragons can pull off, “talk. Why haven’t you and Dáithí made it official?”
I grit my teeth. This isn’t humiliating at all. “He doesn’t want to.”
In hindsight, I should have recorded this moment. It’s not often I get to shock a dragon speechless.
“Say what?” Hagen manages at last.
“He doesn’t think I’m commitment material.
” Every word makes me hate my past self, because it’s true that there’s a lot of evidence to support his belief.
“Anytime I even hint that we might be boyfriends or that I want to be, he shoots me down. Says he doesn’t expect that from me, that he knows I don’t have it in me to give.
” That last sentence rubs my throat raw.
Maybe once I wasn’t a commitment kind of person, but I’m older now—and more importantly, I’m with Dáithí now.
I don’t want anyone else, can never imagine wanting anyone else. Just him.
“Yikes.” All traces of levity are gone from Hagen as he pats me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, bro. That sucks hard.”
The sympathy, as much as it stings my pride, soothes the part of me that’s felt so reje—
“Okay!” Hagen’s on his feet, clapping his hands. I don’t know why, but I recognize that look on his face, and it doesn’t bode well for me. “We have a very important project here, people.”
Oh, no. Sliding down in my chair, I stare at the phone and will it to ring. I don’t even care who’s on the other end of the line, as long as they give me a reason to leave.
“There’s not much we can do,” Brayan says, giving up on the whole “not listening” farce. “Dáithí’s got the right to decide who he wants to be in a relationship with, and we can’t change Eoin’s past.”
“It would take too long to even try,” Hagen agrees.
“Hey!” I straighten. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Huh. The way all nine people in the office look at me skeptically is so perfectly executed, I almost think they practiced.
“It wasn’t,” I protest. “I never lied to anyone or made them think I wanted more than I did. And I sure as fuck never asked anyone for a commitment. The fact that I am now should be enough to prove I’ve changed.” Dammit. Why can’t Dáithí trust that?
“He’s got a point,” someone says, but I’m not paying attention. My brain has locked on to that one question: Why can’t Dáithí trust that?
“Do you think he’s just not interested?” I blurt, feeling ill at the thought. “Is… Am I just someone to kill time with while he waits for someone he actually cares about?”
The tiny pause before anyone replies is all it takes for my mouth to fill with bile. Then nine voices burst out with protests that of course Dáithí cares about me.
Somehow, I’m not convinced.
“You’ve been together for over a year,” Ari points out. “If he was just killing time, he’d have moved on by now. It’s not like he doesn’t have other options.”
The reminder that Dáithí’s too good for me isn’t what I wanted to hear, but it’s somehow comforting.
He does have other options. He’s cute and clever, and everyone who wanders into his orbit falls under the spell of his charm.
It’s impossible not to like Dáithí, and I know he gets hit on all the time.
My bruised heart picks itself up and prepares to go another round. “That’s true. It doesn’t help much, but it’s true.”
“Hmm.” Hagen leans his hip against my desk. I’m just glad he’s not sitting on it again. “Interesting. He doesn’t want to be single or date other people— Wait. You’re exclusive, right? I just assumed…”
I press my hand to the bottom of my ribs, where it feels like some kind of fire monster is trying to claw its way out.
The thought of Dáithí with someone else is horrendous.
“We’re exclusive.” It’s something we agreed on from the outset, that neither of us would see other people without letting the other know.
Dáithí suggested it in response to the first time I asked if we were officially together.
Not what I’d thought he was going to say.
“Okay, so if he’s been committed to not seeing other people for over a year, why won’t he commit to being officially with you? That doesn’t make sense.” He shakes his head. “There’s more going on.”
Since this whole conversation hasn’t done anything to change the situation but has succeeded in not just reminding me how shitty I feel about the whole thing but also making my personal life fodder for gossip among my subordinates—not to mention pity.
Gotta love when the people you manage feel sorry for you—I’m pretty much ready to have done with it all.
“Whatever’s going on, I’ll deal with it.
In the meantime, we all have work to do, so it’s time for you to go.
” I put all the authority of my job into my voice.
It doesn’t work all that well on Hagen, since he doesn’t report to me and also used to be my roommate.
If I couldn’t make him leave my stuff alone, there’s no way he’ll abandon a juicy puzzle about someone’s love life. He lives for stuff like this.
“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “We’ll fix this. Get ready to wave your situationship goodbye and say hello to commitment!”
What a disturbing promise. My gaze tracks him out to the hallway, and horror floods me at the sight of King Raeulfr standing in his office doorway, Brandt beside him, both of them clearly having overheard what Hagen said.
The king looks mildly sympathetic—he knows a bit about the issue, since it’s hard to resist when my species leader offers a listening ear—but Brandt’s expression is pure, avid curiosity.
Sighing, I get up and go to intercept. The king’s office is a more private place for this conversation than the security office or the hallway.
“You’re in a situationship?” Brandt asks before I even reach them. “And do you want to keep it or not?”
The king rolls his eyes. “Inside,” he orders, tugging Brandt away from the door so I can join them. I wait until the door is firmly closed before answering.
“Dáithí has some concerns about a committed relationship with me,” I say simply. “I’m trying to convince him that I’m a good bet. That’s all. Except that I think we’d both prefer not to be office gossip.”
The king winces, and Brandt waves that off dismissively. “Too late. Everyone knows something’s going on with you two. I hadn’t heard that Dáithí has cold feet, though. The rumors all suggest that you’re the one holding back.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, then remember who I’m talking to. “I beg your pardon, I—”
“No, fuck sums it up pretty well,” Brandt agrees, and the king nods.
“It does. I’m so sorry, Eoin. I hadn’t heard that particular rumor, or I would have made you aware.”
Brandt turns on him. “You mean you knew about this?”
“Eoin confided some of his concerns to me, yes. And I kept them to myself, because that’s the respectful thing to do.” His tone is heavy with meaning.
Sighing, Brandt says, “Yeah, yeah. I can keep a secret.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Although… now that I know the truth, I could be helpful. Dáithí’s never been a commitment-shy person. Why would he suddenly become one with you?”
Does everyone in this building want to rub salt in that particular wound?
“That’s a question that haunts my nightmares. Please don’t try to help. This is something Dáithí and I will sort out in our own time.” I hope.
And if not, then I’ll just be his situationship for as long as he’ll have me.