Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ANDERS
“Are you having the most amazing time?”
I heard Emil speaking to someone in his workshop, but I wasn’t sure who, since he and I were the only ones there.
The low murmur of voices carried down the hall and brought me to a stop just outside the door.
I stood there longer than I meant to, my hand hovering uselessly at my side, the sound of his voice settling into the quiet of the house.
This morning, when I woke up, I was sad to realize I was back in the cottage.
I’d gotten used to the rhythm of Emil’s house and spending my evenings with him.
Even though he always walked me back to the door and gave me the most amazing kisses, I missed his presence.
That realization didn’t change the fact that I also knew I wasn’t ready for anything more.
I would never compare Emil to John, but I wasn’t quite prepared to trust my judgment yet.
They weren’t similar in any way, but I was the common denominator, and I needed to be sure before I jumped in again.
“I am. Because who wouldn’t love touring Europe for months at a time? Honestly, it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”
As soon as I heard the woman’s voice, I realized Emil must be talking to his sister Lila. He’d mentioned she was taking a sabbatical from work, with his encouragement, and had gone on the trip of a lifetime.
“Send me a postcard once in a while.”
“Is there something going on with you?”
The question made my chest tighten. Before I heard his answer, I realized that by standing there listening, I was eavesdropping, and that didn’t sit right with me.
I shifted my weight, heat creeping up the back of my neck, and turned toward the bedroom instead.
I needed to stop trying to listen to conversations that weren’t my business, even though I really, really wanted to know the answer to that last question.
“I don’t know what you mean, Lila.”
As I passed the doorway, he must have muted himself because he called out for me to come back to the office. The sudden quiet made his voice sound louder without the buffer of the call.
When I appeared in the doorway, Emil mouthed, “Would you like to meet my sister?”
I frantically shook my head no. I looked like a bum, and I wasn’t ready for the questions that would come with that.
“Hey, why do you keep muting me? Who are you talking to?” Lila demanded.
“Why are you so nosy?” Emil shot back.
“Is someone there with you? Who is it? Do I know them?”
“When I have something to tell you, I will tell you. Until then, you need to go visit a castle or something.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m going to visit Neuschwanstein Castle for a candlelight dinner. I know it’s kind of touristy, but I’m going to get my Disney on.”
“Send me a postcard.”
“Should I be addressing it only to you?”
“Lila, there is no chance I am answering any of these questions.”
“Fine. Be that way. But you look happy, and I hope the reason is a really great one.”
Emil glanced at me, his eyes warm and unmistakably fond, and I had to look away before he could read too much into my expression. As they kept talking, he waved me over to the chair in front of his workbench. I sat down, the faint scent of sawdust and oil clinging to the air.
Every once in a while, he’d catch my eye and give me a quick wink. I think he was trying to hide it from Lila, but my stomach flipped every time, and I was pretty sure she caught him more than once.
When they said their goodbyes, she added, “All right, big brother. I’m going to hike up to the top of that hill and look at the castle. Fingers crossed you go hang out with whoever it is you keep winking at off camera.”
“Goodbye, Lila,” Emil said with a laugh.
Emil fiddled with something on his computer, then looked up at me, smiled, and said, “She’s gone.”
“Safe to say that was your sister?”
“Yes. I think the big brother line was the biggest clue,” Emil answered with a fond grin. “She was working hard to dig information out of me.”
“She was.”
“But if you’re not ready for me to say anything to her, then I won’t,” he said easily. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Family is a big step. Like…it means something.”
“Your mom saw me that day when you first came out here.”
“It doesn’t count with my mom. She wouldn’t remember you from Adam, no offense,” I added quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“None taken,” he said, still smiling. “That tracks.”
“Anyway,” I said, pushing ahead before my nerves could get the better of me, “it sounds like she’s having a good time.” I needed to move the subject away from introducing people to family because even the idea of it made it hard to breathe.
“Yeah, I hope she is. She decided to take a break from work and go on this trip. She was really sick last year, and it took a lot out of her. It was good for her to get away and figure out what she wanted to do next in her life.”
“She’s involved in your company?”
“Technically, it’s mine, but I don’t think I would’ve been as successful without her.”
“It’s a family business?”
“Sort of. My family was originally in manufacturing and investment banking, but I wanted to diversify to importing/exporting. We don’t handle the goods, but we handle the logistics of the goods.
Although I guess I’m banking-adjacent anyway.
After I was established as fully in charge, I brought her in to handle logistics. Nobody’s better.”
“Hopefully, she remembers to send you a postcard.”
“Well, she hasn’t yet, so I’m not holding out hope,” he said, then glanced at the clock. “But it’s close to noon. Do you want to go downtown for lunch? I want to hang out with you.”
“Very much.” I met his gaze and held it, warmth spreading through my chest despite myself. I knew I was blushing, but it wasn’t a lie. I wanted to be with him too.
“Do you like this one?”
On our way to lunch, we ducked into an art gallery, and Emil wandered off toward a sculpture made from sea glass collected along the local beach.
He was standing there like this was a totally reasonable way to spend the middle of the day, like people did this all the time and didn’t immediately panic about money or decisions or whether liking something meant something else entirely.
“It’s pretty cool that it’s abstract, not literal,” I said, mostly because silence felt weird.
My eyes slid to the price tag, and I immediately regretted it.
The orca looked like it was leaping out of the water, the layered glass catching the light differently depending on where you stood.
From one angle, it looked calm. From another, it was mid-chaos.
Whoever the artist was, they were unnaturally good.
“Do you think we should get it?” Emil asked.
I actually looked around. Because surely he wasn’t talking to me.
“Are you asking me?” I said.
“Yeah,” he said easily. “Who else would I be asking? If I ask the woman who runs the gallery, she’s going to say yes and probably tell me to buy two.”
“That’s ridiculous,” the gallery owner chimed in as she walked past. “I’d tell you to buy three, so you’ve got a proper orca pod.”
“We don’t need three,” I said, immediately. Too fast. Definitely too fast.
“What if the one gets lonely?” Emil asked, still staring at it like it might solve the problem for him.
“If you buy the one, then you can be the other half of the pod,” I said. That felt reasonable.
“A pod needs three,” he replied, without even thinking about it. “You’d have to come along.”
That should’ve been a joke. I knew it was a joke. But my chest did that thing where it tightened.
“I guess I could do that,” I said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near awkward. “Be the third.”
“I don’t need a unicorn,” Emil said, one eyebrow lifting. “But if you like it, then we should get it.”
He nodded, decisive, like this was settled now, and I had the sudden urge to backpedal even though I hadn’t actually agreed to anything.
“It’s your house,” I said because apparently I couldn’t stop myself. “It’s not up to me. But I do like it.”
I didn’t know why I kept saying that. Emil had made it clear I could do whatever I wanted in his house, and I had.
I put his clothes away. I rearranged things that bothered me.
I cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner like it was the most normal thing in the world.
We barely went back to the cottage anymore except for work and sleeping.
The thing was, Emil never pushed. Not once.
He didn’t comment on how much time I spent at the house.
He didn’t ask why I hadn’t stayed over again.
He hadn’t even mentioned the blowjob I’d given him, which I kept waiting for.
Like he understood it for what it had been.
Stress relief. Just a thing that happened.
That alone probably should’ve told me something. Or maybe it told me exactly nothing, and I was reading too much into everything, which was kind of my brand.
“We’re getting it,” Emil said. “He can be pod-ish. Pod-adjacent.”
He went to talk to the gallery owner, and I wandered away because standing still felt like too much.
I drifted, without meaning to, toward the flower art. I always did. When I first went to community college, I wanted to take horticulture classes, and my mom had told me—very firmly—that I needed a job that paid. Flowers weren’t it. I’d listened. I always listened.
My Pinterest board was still full of garden ideas I’d never use. Apartments without patios or balconies don’t allow for that much dirt. Maybe if I stayed on the island longer, I could figure something out. Though the ferry costs and rent prices made that feel like a stretch.
“Trying to compromise on decorating?”
I jumped and turned to find an older man standing far too close, like he’d been waiting for me to notice him. He wore a plaid suit, carried a cane he absolutely did not need, and had a look in his eye that said he enjoyed this.
“Sorry?” I said.