“Yeah.” I smiled at him over my ice cream. “It has its moments.”
“So why were you surprised that I don't like beer?”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Cause you're a man. Men like beer.”
“And women like fruity drinks?” he shot back.
“All right. Yes, that was sexist of me. But it really seems to be true. You're the first man I've met who doesn't like beer.”
“My packmates don't like it either.” Rune took another bite, groaned, and considered this. “It must be genetic.”
“And it must be nice for you to have them.”
“What do you mean?”
“The only time I'm around someone who truly knows me is when Hermes comes to visit. Otherwise, I feel separate from the world.”
“Lonely, you mean?” he asked softly.
“Sometimes.” I waved my spoon at him. “Don't get me wrong. I love being immortal. To be able to watch this world evolve, to see what people create, and how those creations change everything—it's a great gift.”
“But you're not a part of the creation.”
“Sure I am. I benefit from all their advances. I share their joy.”
“But do you create?”
“Actually, I do. I paint.”
“Really?” His dirty-blond brows lifted. “So, you're not just a gallery owner; you're also one of the artists.”
I shrugged. “I don't sell my art.”
“Why not?” Rune smirked. “Do you suck?”
What a choice of words. They had me clearing my throat before I got distracted by naughty thoughts.
“I don't think so,” I said.
“And you should know, right?” He offered me his brownie. “Try this. It's amazing.”
I leaned over and took a bite as I held his stare. Rune's throat worked, but he didn't blink, not even when I moaned and licked my lips.
“Amazing,” I said.
“What?” he whispered.
I held back my laugh. “The brownie. It's amazing, as you said. But I already knew that.” I winked at him.
“Oh.” Rune looked down at the brownie. “Yeah.” He took a big bite and looked away.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. Then I shared my banana bread with him. That broke the strange tension.
Rune moaned in bliss while he chewed, then looked over at me. “Will you show me?”
Oh, there he went again. I'd show this man anything he wanted to see. I swallowed my bite then asked, “Show you what?”
“Your paintings.”
