Abi smirked. He appreciated a good line and a guy who didn’t grab at him as though he were fucking property. “Just a beer. In the bottle. I’ll open it myself.”
“You got it.” The guy had a nice smile too.
Nash didn’t find him even a little charming. He growled and showed the guy his fangs.
The bartender held up his hands. “He smells good. Like really good. That’s all.”
Nash turned to Abi when the bartender walked away. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide. “He’s a fucking human.”
Abi nodded. “One you just flashed your fangs at.”
“But how can a human smell you? He reacted like a shifter.”
Abi shrugged. “Every person in here will react the same way. Everywhere I fucking go.”
“Gods.” Nash looked at the liquid left in his drink and then slid it over to Abi. “You need this more than I do.”
Abi chuckled, which made Nash smile.
Abi smelled the liquid in the glass. Whiskey. It turned his stomach, bringing up memories of the last time he drank, which wasn’t thatlong ago. “I got drunk on shifter shine. The night before we met. The hangover is too fresh.”
Nash took the drink back with a nod. They sat beside each other in comfortable silence. Even after the bartender placed a bottle of domestic beer in front of him and an opener, they still didn’t speak. Abi used the opener and then slid it over to the bartender along with the metal cap.
He drank, letting the liquid cool his throat. “Nothing like beer first thing in the morning.”
“It’s three in the afternoon.” They’d gotten in after the sun came up, and then they fucked, which took a while, not that Abi was complaining. “I know, silly. Neither of us has eaten anything.”
Nash got the bartender’s attention. “Is there a place where we can still get breakfast close by?”
“Mary’s Diner serves breakfast twenty-four hours a day. It’s a couple of blocks behind us on Castro Street.”
Nash nodded. “We can talk over pancakes. If you still want to.”
Abi smiled. “Yeah.”
Nash nodded at Abi’s beer. “Finish that first.”
Abi rolled his eyes when Nash gave that order. Nash couldn’t seem to help himself. Abi was his boy, whether or not Abi wanted to be. The problem was that Abi wanted to be. He just didn’t think it was wise to want that if he wanted to keep his heart intact.
“You’re not in pain anymore. Or not in as much pain.” Abi felt better too. He was just dreading the heartbreak—more than he had ever dreaded anything.
“What are you talking about?”
“I hurt you. In the hotel room. I could feel it.” Abi put a hand over his heart and patted his chest through his jacket.
Nash’s gaze was intense. He commanded all of Abi’s attention. “Has that ever happened before with the others?”
“Not once.” Abi could have lied. It would have ended the conversation. Admitting it aloud made it more real to him. He hadn’t thought about it before. The feeling in his chest—of being in pain and it not belonging to him—hadn’t quite registered in his brain. He’d been panicking over Nash leaving. The realization was hitting him all at once.
“And you still think I’m as fake as them?”
Abi turned on the stool and laid his forehead on Nash’s arm. “I just don’t want you to break my heart.”
Abi shut his eyes when the pain of it made his chest ache.
“You’re going to break mine first? Is that the game we’re playing?”
“No one’s playing a game.” Abi poked Nash in his side, but it was nothing more than a tap. He just wanted Nash to know that the description of their relationship, non-relationship, didn’t please him. Whatever it was they were doing.
