“That’s a dirty trick,” he accused.
“Yes,” she teased. “I’m not above it.”
“Filia, Mama,” he told her, defeated.
“Filia.”
He ended the call and dropped his phone onto the shelf, staring at it until the screen went black. He loved his sister and his mama. And he loved Greece, but going home again felt like he’d be going there for good, and even though his knee popped—betraying him—he wasn’t ready to give up this life yet. Maybe it was him being spoiled or selfish, or something he didn’t have a word for. But it was who he was, and who he would always be.
He loved hisfamily, but he needed to find himself on his own terms. His mama hated that he’d been fixated on walking the Camino de Santiago since before he’d even hit puberty, and he didn’t doubt that she regretted the way hispaterahad encouraged him on by telling him all of his wild stories.
He would be a liar, though, if he denied the desire to be there for his sister was not a strong one. But she was older than him, and she went to school abroad before she met her husband. She had to understand the pull of the world, even if theirmamadidn’t.
Tired of being alone with his thoughts, Leonidas finally let himself out of the bathroom and found Andy awake, tangled in the sheets with sleepy and heavy eyes.
“There you are,” Andy murmured.
“I’m here.” He dumped his cold coffee into the sink and powered the kettle on again. “Did you want coffee?”
Andy licked his lips. “I want to brush my teeth.”
“I think there’s a package of spare toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom. You’re welcome to one.”
Andy kicked the sheets off his legs and stood up. He stretched and paused, his thoughtful eyes drinking in every exposed inch of Leonidas’s body. Andy’s cock was half-hard and it jumped in appreciation.
“Then coffee,” Andy said, walking past him into the bathroom.
Leonidas listened to the bathroom door close, then the water turn on. He set to adding more water in the kettle, then he made a fresh batch of coffee, adding enough sugar this time, but leaving Andy’s untouched.
A few minutes later, Andy came to the kitchen, Leonidas’s phone in hand. Leonidas reached for him and he came willingly, then he plucked his phone out of Andy’s hand and tossed it back into the drawer it came from.
“I hate those things,” he grumbled, pressing their naked bodies together. He shivered for how warm Andy’s skin was, and he dragged his nose along Andy’s cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know how you take your coffee,” he whispered.
“Lots of sugar,” Andy answered.
Leonidas pushed the sugar bowl toward Andy and watched him dump four teaspoons of sugar into the small white cup.
“Drink,” he said. “Then we'll get dressed.”
Andy’s expression faltered and he stopped with the mug raised partly to his mouth. He tried to play it cool; Leonidas could see the argument warring behind his eyes.
“Are you throwing me out?” Andy asked.
“No.” He felt himself blush, so he looked away, worried he really was in over his head. “We just need to check the heat on the kiln.”
“Oh,” Andy let out a dramatic sounding breath, then took a sip of coffee. “We did do that last night, didn’t we?”
“We did, Andrew. We did.”
9
Andy
After Leonidas went downand adjusted the heat on the kiln, they showered and dressed, Andy, back in his clothes from the day before, and Leonidas in clean clothes that looked a lot like his dirty ones. Andy could see the wear and tear on Leonidas’s jeans, the flecks of dried clay and spattered paint that had worn into the fabric and would probably never come loose.
They walked together back across the Pont de Sully, and Andy wondered if today was really going to be the end. He knew it was a ridiculous idea. Leonidas was a stranger. Andy didn’t even know his last name. He should have been a hookup, someone Andy fucked and walked away from, but the things Leonidas did and said were bringing out all kinds of feelings and thoughts he didn’t know how to make sense of.
