I hate that he’s embarrassed. I hate that I feel like I set him up for it. “I bet you could kick my ass.”
He laughs. It’s a nice sound. “I probably could.”
And his smirk is cute too.
“I’d like to open a karate school,” he tells me. “Eventually. When I can save up. But I’m… I’m not doing great with work stuff. Finding more of it. If I had a brain like yours…”
This man is strangely adorable, that only being strange because he’s me, and I would never consider myself adorable. So when I see his smile fade on that last line, it pisses me off, and perhaps jumping to conclusions, I slightly spit at him, “Who ever let you think you’re not smart?”
“No one.” But his hand’s on his hoodie again, and his eyes are flying across the floor as if he wants to escape. “I know I’m not. This must be so disappointing for you. If you thought I was your best hope of getting home, or whatever we’re doing here. If you thought I was like you, and I’m just… I don’t even have a job. Not really. And I never went to university. And the only reason I even know half of what you’re talking about is because I’ve watched too much Star Trek.”
He’s definitely going to die. Him and all of this reality, past, present and future. Gone.
But I can’t have him knowing that. Whatever this weird, protective urge is, it’s already controlling my tongue. “Star Trek is a great place for us to start.”
He clearly doesn’t believe I just said that either, and his frown shows it. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious. Everything we’re dealing with is mostly hypothetical. Or it was. But let’s not think about that bit.”
His eyes are piercing when he looks at me. Do I look at people like that? It’s like he’s flaying my mind. “It was hypothetical until you did it, do you mean?”
I swear to god, clever is the sexiest trait of them all. Also the scariest right now. “I told you, you’re smart.”
I earned that blush. And that smile. “I’ll be sorry to disappoint you.”
“You won’t disappoint me. I can tell already.”
His pretty lips part, he blinks once, then turns back towards the bar.
Fuck. I think I’ve inadvertently come on too strong. Probably didn’t help that I was slightly checking out his pecs when I said that. Now he’s realised I’m flirting.
But fuck, he’s cute. Why am I not that cute when he’s literally me? But he is that cute, really cute, god help me…
He isn’t saying a word. He’s clutching his drink with both hands for dear life.
I don’t want his last few weeks of existence to be awkward. I should probably stop this before it goes any further.
“Are you… interested in men?”
His question is painfully forthright. Should I lie again? Throw him off the trail?
“Yes.” Not a lie, also not conclusive evidence of my severe attraction to him.
“Me too.” That flicker of golden eyes between long black lashes just about ends me. “I was wondering if you knew. That. About me.”
“Do you want me to know that about you?” So much for not coming on strong. But his shyness is like catnip.
He laughs, and that blush… I want to lick it off him. “Very funny.”
Can he really think I’m joking? I’m practically tearing his clothes off with my eyeballs.
I take my last sip of beer. The place is slowly emptying out, and we have little choice but to follow them. “I don’t think this will last much longer. Eighteen forty-four. I can walk you home if you’d like?”
That sweet flash of uncertainty again. I like it there. But I feel like I should add, “The streets are a little different from how you know them. I can help you find your way.”
He’s slow to reply, but the words, “That’d be nice,” settle over me like another ten of these very good ales.
CHAPTER NINE
