“I’m pretty sure Gus is in cahoots with Rose and tries to kill me every day by being underfoot.”
Jeremy looks at him and shakes his head. “There’s no way. Gus is such a sweet cat. Besides, he’s usually hiding.”
“Hiding, hissing, and plotting my death,” Sergio says, exhaustion laced throughout his words.
“Okay, so potentially murderous cat aside, is there anyone else out to get you?”
Sergio takes a sip of his tea, then dips his head as he swallows. When he looks up, he’s wearing a devilish grin. “No. But the first few times I lived this day, I punched Chadwick Levinson in the face in your defense.”
Jeremy explodes into laughter, and Sergio wishes he could freeze time right here to preserve this moment of Jeremy’sunfettered amusement forever. “Alright,” he says, once he catches his breath. “I don’t condone violence in any way, but damn it if I don’t know that he deserved it with complete surety.”
“You’re not mad?” Sergio’s forehead wrinkles.
“Why would I be mad?”
“You’re always mad when I do it.”
“I guess if you make a spectacle of it, I’m probably more embarrassed.”
“Considering it always happens at the New Year’s Eve party, moments before the clock strikes twelve, it’s fair to say there’s an audience.”
“Yeah. That explains it.” Jeremy nods his head quickly. “Let’s avoid doing that tonight, please.”
“You have my word. I will not lay a hand on him.”
“Good,” Jeremy says and places his tea down on the coffee table. With his eyes back on Sergio, he uses his now free hand to run his fingers through his own hair, pausing when he reaches the nape of his neck. “Now, how about that kiss you say happens when we're on the ice?”
Using his grip on Jeremy’s hand, Sergio pulls himself out of the corner of the couch he had nestled himself into and leans in closer to Jeremy. “The tale of my woes hasn’t scared you off yet?”
“Sergio.” Jeremy adjusts himself to face Sergio head-on. “I have never been afraid of you.”
Sergio turns and takes one last sip of his tea before he reaches and places it on the coffee table beside Jeremy’s mug. He swallows. “Our history suggests otherwise.”
“Did this conversation not go well before?” Jeremy asks.
With his chin dipped slightly down, Sergio looks back at Jeremy guiltily. “I meant … before.”
“Oh.” Now Jeremy swallows, and Sergio watches his throat bob. “You meant four years ago.”
Sergio nods.
Jeremy lets go of his hand. The sudden loss of contact causes Sergio’s stomach to sink. “That was different.” He places both feet on the floor and faces towards the center of the room. “It wasn’t you I was afraid of. It was—”
“Everything else.”
“Yeah,” he says, tugging at the corner of his eye.
“And what about now?”
Jeremy drops his ear to his shoulder and turns to face Sergio again. “You still don’t scare me.”
“You don’t scare me either.”
Jeremy wets his lips with a quick roll of his tongue over them, then smiles. “Maybe I should.”
“You could take lessons from Rose.”
“She’s not that scary,” he says, shaking his head.
