Ean’s Rare Gift – Chapter 6

Karina

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, shit. Ean is turning to leave, and we were just getting started.

“Wait.” I jump to my feet, and he freezes while picking up his bag. “Don’t go.”

I sigh and peer at my hands for a moment. Stupid, Karina. It’s foolish of me to be doing something I’m obviously bad at. What was I thinking? I can’t flirt. I’m too awkward and buttoned-up to do that. I should come clean.

Taking a deep breath, I start, “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all night, and I’m doing a terrible job of it, and I’ve scared you off, and if you want to leave and go back to Diana, then I will completely understand, and I’m sorry.” I blow out the fraction of breath I have left after letting that avalanche of words go.

“You’ve been flirting with me?” he asks, his hand on the strap of his bag.

I wince. “Yes? God, am I really that bad at it?” I throw my hands up. “I’ve been happily married, and I still do not know how I got there.”

“Are you leaving?”

We both turn to find the server standing a meter from us with two glasses of red wine in her hands.

“Should I?” Ean asks. He’s asking permission to stay after what just happened. God, yes. I think I’m already in love with him.

Slow down, Karina. Pazienza.

“No,” I insist. “Stay. You don’t need to go.”

His hand tightens on his bag strap for a moment before he draws it over his head and sets it back on the chair.

“Thanks,” I say, reaching for the two glasses of wine. The server hands them over, looks between us, and leaves, saying nothing. I bet they see these kinds of things all the time, but it’s still embarrassing to be doing this in public.

I hand one glass to Ean. “Here. Please sit down.” I glance at the arm of the couch. “The sugar glider is gone.” Looking around, I don’t see her anywhere.

“She probably bolted when I stood up.” Ean reaches forward and taps his wine glass to mine. “Cheers,” he says with a chuckle before sitting down.

I lift the wine to my lips and chug down two large gulps, emptying half the glass in one go.

Ean’s eyes widen as I sit next to him. “Oh, is this what we’re doing tonight? They don’t serve shots here.”

“No.” I wipe off the corners of my mouth. “Though we should probably order the second round immediately.” I sigh and sip the wine this time. “Okay, let’s be real here. On a scale of one to ten, how good was my flirting? I need to know.”

“Tonight?” he asks, pointing down. “Like, this evening?”

“Yes. Did I make any kind of impression?” It’s good that I don’t blush, though sometimes a few glasses of wine will cause me to flush.

“Karina, you always make an impression on me.” He clears his throat and sips his wine. “Tonight’s flirting, I would give a six out of ten.”

“Hmm,” I say, nodding.

“It’s a solid six out of ten. Definitely not shabby. You asked me out. You smiled. You made physical contact.” He nods appraisingly. “If I had been expecting it, I might have reacted better. Sorry.”

“So, uh, you weren’t expecting it at all?”

He shakes his head. “Not that I haven’t wanted it, but expected it? No. You’ve been mourning for so long. I thought it was a lifelong commitment.”

I catch the server’s attention across the room and circle my finger over our wine glasses. She nods and disappears.

“And before this night, my flirting deserves a much lower rating?”

He shakes his head. “Sad to say, I’d give it a two out of ten. I figured you were just being friendly. Lots of women smile and are kind when they’re not flirting. I’ve learned not to read into it too much over the last ten years.”

“That’s smart. But you said you’ve had a crush on me?” My voice cracks as if I’m about to cry. I may not blush, but my emotions are strong enough to will whole civilizations into being. They burn in my soul like the depths of Hades most days.

Ean, on the other hand, rarely gets emotional. His nature is that of the calm, cool, collected scholar. Always learning. Always helping. Always open for change.

He hisses, pulling air in between his teeth. “Yeah, for a while now. I always thought it would burn out and go away.” He shrugs. “No such luck.”

“And that woman at the neighborhood meeting?”

His smile grows. “Is this prompted by that?” When I don’t answer, he continues. “Diana and I have known each other since we were kids. We’re familiar with each other because our families are friends. Nothing more.” He hums and looks out past the nearby tables. “If I had known that making you jealous was the key to getting you to flirt with me, I would have lived the last year a lot differently.”

I point my finger at him. “If you had dated someone else, I probably would have cried and then tripped her.” I drop my hand and sigh. “I can be a little overzealous. Matt always said that about me, that I was a ‘passionate handful.’ But I always go to bat for my loved ones. I miss him, for sure,” I say, looking over at Ean. “He was my first love, but I don’t want him to be my last. I don’t want to mourn him for the rest of my life. It’s time I moved on.”

Another round of tears threatens to pour from my eyes. Instead, I blink them away and wave at my face. Nope, not today. I’ve cried enough for several lifetimes.

A cat appears under the table to meow at us. This one is a fluffy little monster with sepia fur on top and a white belly. She jumps up on the couch next to me and waits for me to scratch her head.

“Cats seem to like you,” Ean says, changing the subject. I’m grateful for it.

“I like both cats and dogs equally, so I suppose either could be a match for me.” This cat climbs over my stomach to get to Ean. I lean away as her fluffy tail twitches in my face. She plops herself down in Ean’s lap, and he gently strokes her back. “Tell me about Suzie. She was your first pair, right?”

“She was…” He closes his eyes for a moment. “She was the most amazing little being. So wise for a cat. Like, she understood humans better than most humans, you know? She would follow me to school and back home again. She always slept on the bed at my feet. And she kept me from losing my mind on my father so many times.”

The server approaches, and we exchange our empty glasses for full ones. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Once she’s gone, I turn to Ean again. “Your father seems like a hard man to me, if you don’t mind my saying so.” As mayor of our town, he’s drawn a lot of criticism for being stubborn and uncompromising. Things I find absent in his eldest son sitting next to me.

“I don’t mind, and he is a hard man. Your assessment is spot-on.” He sighs. “But he ran for mayor because he wanted to help people. He just didn’t expect it to be so… political.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs. “I know, right?” He rolls his eyes. “A political office not being political? It’s like asking water not to be wet.” He rests his hand on the cat’s belly, and she promptly twitches and bites him. “Ow. Okay, okay.” He shakes his fingers as she stands up, stretches, and leaps from the couch.

“Or asking a cat not to bite?” I throw my head back in a laugh. “I’m sure we could go on for hours.”

“We could.” He sips his wine and tilts his head to the side. “Does this mean we will? Go on for hours?”

“Hours, days, years… The possibilities are endless.” I lose my voice at the raw desire in his eyes. Placing my hand on his knee, I jerk my chin at him. “I’m jealous of the cat. Can I sit closer?”

My ears ring with eagerness. Now that his intentions are clear, I want some physical contact. I don’t have to sleep with him just yet, but I’d like more than to hold his hand or touch his arm. This is a bold move, and I instantly dread the rejection.

He nods, a smile creeping over his lips as he adjusts his seat. I stand up, place a hand on his knee, turn, and sit back into the space between his legs. Resting my back against his chest, I sigh as his heat sinks into me. His fingers brush my hair down and move my curls off my neck to my right shoulder.

“I love this spot right here,” he whispers.

I hold still as he draws a finger from behind my ear down the side of my neck. No one has touched me like this in ages. Matt wasn’t touchy or romantic. I loved him, no doubt. But his physicality was limited to holding hands or having sex — rarely anything in between.

I sip my wine to cover my nervousness. “You already have a favorite spot? I don’t think you’ve even seen me in a bathing suit.”

“I’d like to.” His voice practically purrs.

“So would I.”

I can tell he’s aroused, and I don’t want to make this too uncomfortable for him. “We could rent a rotenburo for an afternoon at the Kizaki Onsen.” Rotenburos are outdoor baths usually surrounded by thick privacy fences. They’re perfect for friend groups, families, or couples looking for intimate time. “It’s been a long time since I was last there.”

“You’re full of good ideas lately.” He sips his wine again. “What do you think of the club?”

“Here? I like it.” I lean over and give him a moment to adjust himself because he’s as hard as a rock, and anyone in a five-block radius could tell. Mmmm. I wonder what he’s like without clothes. “I see a raccoon over at the other corner. Do you think he’ll come here?”

“Anything’s possible, but they tend to look for food.”

Returning to my spot, I lean into him again and tip my head back to look at his face. His chest rises and falls at a fast clip, and my body heats to blinding levels. I would kill to be alone with him right now.

It’s nice that I can have those thoughts without guilt. First, I was worried I was sullying Matt’s memory somehow. Then I was worried that I was projecting romantic intentions onto a cherished friendship.

Now, I know that both points were wrong. He’s had a crush on me, too.

Maybe we can make something of this.

Movement catches my eye, and I glance up to find two birds on top of the bookshelves peering down at us.

“Look,” I whisper, tilting my head at the bookshelf.

Just as Ean directs his eyes up, another bird joins the two already standing there. They watch us both, their little heads cocking to the left, then the right, and back. They train their bird eyes on us and emit tiny cheeps. I don’t know what kind of birds they are. Birding has never been my thing. I think the one on the right is a robin, and one other is a sparrow, but I could be wrong.

“Huh,” he says, his eyebrows drawn together.

I sit forward in Ean’s lap when more movement catches my eye. A team of cats has approached our area, and they all have their eyes on the birds.

“Uh oh.” The club is quiet, with only a few other people in attendance. I don’t see any of the employees. “Should I get someone?”

“No,” Ean says, laying a hand on my arm. “Let’s stay still.”

Yet another bird flies in and lands next to the other three. This one is a little larger and dark brown with a darker, almost black hood and an orange beak. Not a crow, though. I’m pretty sure.

“A mynah,” Ean whispers. “I rarely see them around here. They get harassed by the gulls a lot.”

“Do you know birds?” I watch as five cats approach our couch. They stalk forward like they’re on the hunt, their eyes trained on the tasty birds. I want to jump up and get out of the way, but Ean’s hand is holding me still.

“Yeah. I recognize a lot of the local bird species by sight.” He breathes a quiet laugh. “The guy who checked us in, Michael, asked me if I was a ‘bird man.’ Maybe he was right.”

“Ean.”

We both jump at the strong voice right behind us.

A man approaches, and I take a moment to adjust my worldview. I never expected to see him here, so it’s a shock to find Ean’s father, the mayor of our town, hovering over us as we sit, rather romantically, together on a couch in a pairing club.

Shit.

Busted.