Those beautiful, deep brown eyes brightened, but Felipe caught himself with a shake of his head. “What about becoming one of those necromancers you talked about? I don’t want—”
“I talked to Turpin about my powers and about us. I should have told you before, but when we went to the library, he somehow knew or surmised what happened. I’m not exactly sure how.”
“Because he’s an insufferable know-it-all.”
Oliver laughed and blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “But what if this was meant to happen? I didn’t reanimate just anyone. I reanimatedyou, and I only found you at precisely the right moment because I decided to come ask you to have dinner with me after years of being too scared to try. If that wasn’t enough, you were born with the ability to heal yourself, which has preserved your body more than any undead person I’ve come across. I know we never meant for this to happen, but I don’t see any reason for us to stop if things are going well and you want to be here.”
Felipe’s hand tightened on Oliver’s hip as he considered it. “What changed your mind?”
“Talking to Gwen and Mr. Turpin gave me some perspective. All of these things coincided in the same moment to bring us here, so why throw something good away for fear of what other people might think, especially when it isn’t their business?” Oliver drew in a tight breath. “What matters is if you want to continue.”
“I do.”
The breath caught in Oliver’s throat. “You’ll be stuck with me, though.”
“Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Both,” Oliver said with a watery smile. “The thing is, Turpin mentioned you might change as time goes on.”
“Change how?” he asked warily.
“I don’t know. I just don’t want you to go into this blindly without knowing there might be risks. I don’t know what will happen or if there’s even any information on someone like you, so this will be a grand experiment for both of us. But I’ll do my best to find out.”
“I can live with that.”
Relief bloomed across Felipe’s features as Oliver felt a rush of warmth across the tether. “I know there are still things we’ll need to discuss, like how we’ll do our jobs, where we want to sleep—”
Cupping Oliver’s face, Felipe lightly grazed his lip with his thumb. In a voice that made Oliver’s blood hum, he said, “We’ll figure it out. Right now, though, you might want to take off those trousers and not just because they’re bloodstained.”
Before the flush could reach his cheeks, Felipe kissed him deeply. Every nerve in Oliver’s body sang as they stumbled toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Oliver steered Felipe toward the bed, but when his back hit the footboard, Oliver dropped to his knees. His hands slid over Felipe’s thighs and ribs as he kissed the crest of his hip. The heat and reverence in Felipe’s gaze when their eyes met and the way Felipe’s hand smoothed encouragingly along his neck was nearly enough to end him. This was what Oliver hadn’t realized he wanted: to have someone like Felipe willing to give him enough time to learn the terrain of his form and discover all the little things he enjoyed, the nuances in his reactions. Someone to give him enough time to build that trust and familiarity without pushing for more. There would be thousands of days like this ahead, and for once, a more complicated future didn’t sound like such a bad thing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Worth Killing For
There were far toomany crumbs in the bed for Oliver’s liking, but they would deal with that later. Felipe’s leg brushed against his under the covers as he took a bite of his roast beef sandwich, looking far too pleased with himself. Eating a sandwich naked in bed with a man he had confessed his love to half a dozen times in the past hour was not how he expected to end his day after everything that happened. Oliver felt like he should be getting dressed or figuring out how to get some clean clothes, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Felipe leaving his side.
