“God, no,” Cassian said with a laugh. “Which is why Frederick isn’treallymy confirmation name.”
He took a pause, clearly intending to bait James into requesting more information. And, of course, James obliged.
“Explain, please,” he said.
“Alright, well, when I was seven or eight, we had a hall boy named Joseph working for us.Hewas Catholic. And, one spring, he was confirmed. He bragged to me about it in passing, which now I realize was pretty brazen of him considering the fact that he worked for my father and was therefore essentially my subordinate, butwhilehe was bragging, he mentioned that he had chosen a new name for himself. Something boring like Peter. He explained that he wouldn’t really use it, but still, it was his. And Ilovedthe idea of that. Choosing your own name. I thought forcertainthat I’d be able to have the same experience. And so, I spentweeksthinking about it, which is a long time when you’re seven or whatever I was, and finally I settled on the name Frederick. I have no idea whether it’s even a saint’s name. Anyway, I marched up to my father and proudly said to him that I’d like for my confirmation name to be Frederick. Unsurprisingly, he laughed at me and thenpatiently explained that we arenotCatholic and that when I was eventually Joseph’s age, I’d be confirmed with my birth name. Or maybe he said baptismal name. Either way, I would never be Frederick.” Cassian chuckled. “Except when I engaged in various pretend scenarios with my friends and cousins over the years. And then I wasalwaysFrederick.”
Fondness struck James in the chest, and he laid a hand over his heart as he laughed a little, too.
“Oh, Cassian, that is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” James leaned forward to rest his head atop his fist. “So, when you were playing pirates or fugitives or cowboys, your name was—”
“Frederick, yes,” Cassian said, laughing some more.
Giggling, James continued to look into Cassian’s eyes. Dammit, he really was completely, hopelessly in love with this insufferable, conceited man. Cassian’s eyebrows pinched.
“So, can the pirate be Frederick, or not?” he asked.
“I can’t name apirateFrederick, Cassian.”
“Yes, you can,” Cassian argued. “Of course you can.”
Humming, James pursed his lips. “Maybe I can name the sailor Frederick instead?”
“No,” Cassian said, somewhat forcefully. “If you name the sailor Frederick, then I will be forced to throw this notebook out into the sea too.”
“It’s your notebook!”
Both of them laughed.
“Look, I can’t let the sailor be Frederick. It’s too...” He curled his lip. “No.”
“Fine, fine,” James said with a sigh. “Frederick the Pirate it is.” He picked up the pen and circled the name. “You know that this makes this story even more rubbish than it was before, right?”
“Nonsense. Frederick is a fine name for a pirate. Perfect, even,” Cassian said. “Because I thought of it.”
James snorted. He knew that Cassian was mostly only jesting.
Mostly.
“Oh, right, I forgot,” James said. “Cassian’s ideas can’t ever be less than perfect.”
“No, they can’t be.” Cassian paused, and his tongue skirted out of his mouth for the briefest instant, passing over his lips and wetting them. “And on that note, I have another idea for tonight as well.”
James raised both of his eyebrows, waiting for Cassian to elaborate. But Cassian only sat there, smiling in the same adorable manner (though perhaps it looked a trifle more wicked now).
“Alright, what is it?” James said, and Cassian arched an eyebrow, leveling a look. James let out a long breath. “Please.”
Cassian leaned in close.
“I’d like for you to come to my stateroom,” he whispered.
James’s eyes went wide, and his heart practically stopped. Oh, Jesus,of coursehe wanted Cassian to bring him into his bed. He wanted Cassian to kiss him, to hold him, totakehim. But to hear Cassian speak about it so bluntly, seemingly without consideration for his fiancée...
“Cassian, we can’t,” James whispered. “Flirting and friendship is one thing, but you’re—”
“I’m not,” Cassian replied. “Ethel and I... we’re not engaged anymore.”
“What?!” James spluttered. “Why? What happened?”
