I turn and can barely stop my mouth from falling open. It’s Lyall. He’s dressed differently from the night we met, in a sweater that hugs his thick chest and a leather jacket. He’s tied his golden mane back into a ponytail and shaved his beard to stubble. His eyes. They’re identical to Anders’s, and now that I’ve met Anders, there’s no mistaking the family resemblance.
Well, shit. What are the chances?
“You’reAnders’s brother?”
“Aye. His twin.” He smiles, looking much happier than the night I met him. “Fancy seeing you again.”
I chuckle. “I know, right? Only in New York. So. Nice to meet you. Again. I’m Soren.”
“I know—my brother told me,” he adds quickly. “Lyall. A pleasure to meet you. Again.” He gives me a playful smile that I pretend doesn’tmake my stomach flutter. Shit. He’s stunning. That’s fine. Nothing wrong with appreciating a handsome guy. We’re not dating or anything. There’s no harm in looking.
“I hope you like the place. They serve mead.”
Lyall looks around with a smile. “Why are there horns on those helmets? Is that not impractical? Suppose you’re fighting and someone grabbed onto those horns and pulled. They could easily get a hit on you.”
I shrug. “You could gouge an eye out.”
Lyall laughs. “I hadn’t thought of that! Aye, that could work, but see the way they’re curved? You’d leave a bruise for sure but you wouldn’t come close to taking an eye out.”
“Yeah, but you’ll look epic while doing it.”
“You’ll lookdead.”
“And cool.”
He huffs in amusement, but before he can reply, the bartender hands us some menus. Lyall orders right away. “Mead,” he says.
“Sure. Which kind?”
He doesn’t even look at the menu. “Whichever is your strongest.”
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” I add.
Once she’s off preparing our drinks, I rotate my barstool to face Lyall. “How are you liking the city so far?”
“It’s loud and smelly but I can see why my brother loves it here. There are interesting things to see around every corner. What about you?”
“It’s home,” I say. “I grew up here with my granddad.”
Lyall frowns at that. “Your grandfather?”
“Yeah. My parents weren’t the parenting type, so he raised me.”
“He sounds like a good man.”
“The best.” I don’t know where I’d be without him. My life would have turned out so differently, most likely for the worst. I owe him so much.
“Is he the reason you stay?”
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘It’s home,’ and spoke of your grandfather.”
He’s perceptive as hell. “Oh. Well. I guess I’ve always wanted to be somewhere else.” A twinge of guilt always accompanies these thoughts. Fergus has done so much for me. I can’t just leave him, especially now that he’s older. He has looked after me all these years. It’s only right to be there for him. “The city’s great. You can walk everywhere. There’s tons to do. But I’ve always had this feeling that there’s something more out there.”
“Someone?” Lyall asks softly, almost to himself.
I don’t know what to say about that. It’s like he read my mind. It’s unsettling.
