Chapter 8 #2
Wylan almost laughed. The fire crackled merrily as he snorted, retrieving a canteen to sip some water.
“Far from it. I was furious. And I am greatly enjoying our time together. I just… found it difficult to stay present and attentive when Feo was nearby. It was too easy to fall back into typical rhythm.” Wylan drew a slow breath, staring at the canteen.
“Feo and I agree it’s not a smart idea to try anything, but just knowing we had that conversation with you in my study…
that’s what feels unfair. You deserve someone who can truly commit.
I thought I was at that spot, emotionally, and now I’m beginning to doubt it. ”
Dren mulled that over for a few moments. He gently turned the sticks of meat, letting the other side cook. “I see. May I offer a counterpoint?”
So formal. Wylan chuckled. “I’m all ears.”
“What if I’m fine with where you are, emotionally? What if none of that bothers me?”
It was so surprising, Wylan almost choked on his next sip of water. “Excuse me?”
Dren shrugged, casually reaching into his bag. He tugged out a small glass bottle of clear liquor, something Wylan hadn’t even known he’d packed. It had a Mercon label, so clearly it was from his hometown.
Dren popped the cork and offered the bottle.
“In my limited experience, moving on from someone is much more difficult when there’s nothing new to compare it to.
No new romance, no new thrill. We yearn for what we’ve lost, instead of looking forward, because forward is an unknown—and the past is always rosier than we remember. ”
It was true. In the deepest recesses of Wylan’s mind, he knew that. He remembered moments with Feo, but they were soured by time, twisted into something he wasn’t even sure happened in the manner he recalled.
Did they happily dance by the fire, or were there tense moments where he stepped on Feo’s feet and they pretended it was fine? Did they contentedly read in close proximity, or was Wylan constantly irritated that Feo was more focused on a book than him?
Wylan had no idea, not anymore. Their relationship had become a construct in his mind, a pillar of everything he could have had—and left behind because it “wasn’t enough.”
He took the bottle, abandoning the canteen for a good, long drink. It wasn’t as stiff as the liquor Feo had the day they broke up, but it still burned all the way down. He exhaled, sitting with the feeling. “You’re right. I didn’t think about it like that.”
“You said it had been a while. How long?”
Wylan hunched his shoulders. “Four years. Feo was… my last.”
Dren took the bottle back from him, taking a swig from the same glass Wylan’s lips had just touched. It made Wylan unreasonably warm, made him tingle over his entire body.
Dren offered that charming smile and tipped the bottle towards Wylan.
“Well, there you go. I’m fully aware of the reasons this might not work, and I have no interest in degrading our working relationship.
But I also think that folks spend a lot of time avoiding the hard truths.
” He leaned forward, like it was some kind of secret.
“That’s why I became an accountant instead of a writer. ”
Wylan laughed, leaning forward too. “All right. What’s the hard truth? That it’s time for me to move on?”
“I would never presume. My hard truth is that you’re incredibly sexy, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about you most of the nights I was in your manor.
My hard truth is that I know you have a history, and I’m fine exploring what we can be while you’re here.
If it doesn’t work… you go home. And I’ll stay on my island and build a great town and find company elsewhere. ”
It was incredibly easy to see why Tessalyn had suggested Dren to become the newest Queendom lord. Reyna had been hesitant, because Dren didn’t know the inner workings of court, or the politics around ruling.
And yet, this honesty couldn’t be fabricated. People would respect him as a lord simply because he said what he meant, and followed through on his word.
Wylan certainly respected him for that.
He took the bottle, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dren, from the first person who’d made him feel like he could forget Feo. The first person to make him feel like love was worth pursuing, simply because people, like Wylan and Dren, deserved company.
Not everything had to be the thrilling romance of a lifetime.
Maybe those things developed later, after something as simple as a night bonding by the fire.
“You want to know another hard truth?” Wylan asked, scooting closer. Their shoulders were almost touching now, and Wylan trailed a hand along Dren’s thigh. The entire world quieted, even the crickets and the rain and the flickering flame. Dren’s smile was all that mattered.
“What is it?” Dren whispered.
Wylan decided to be brave. “I would very much like to kiss you. Would you like that?”
Dren flushed, and it was absolutely stunning. “Yes. Yes, I would.”
“Well, then,” Wylan said, and eased Lord Dren onto his bedroll, pressing a kiss to his lips. And for the first time, Feo was entirely forgotten.