4
“I'm so sorry she got you,” Ezra said, setting the sanctuary's first aid kit down on the kitchen table.
At least having to worry about the fact that Mike wasbleedinghad stopped him having to think too hard about him being here at all.
“I've had worse.” Mike smiled wryly. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
Spot wandered in, her footsteps drawing Ezra's attention. She sped up the moment she saw Mike, pushing her head into his waiting hand like the huge cat she was.
Ezra smiled. He wasn't theonlyone who'd missed him.
Maybe if Spot could just be happy to see him, he could, too. Maybe this didn’t have to be weird.
Ezra busied himself with pouring antiseptic onto a cotton round, moving around the table to sit beside Mike.
“This is gonna sting,” he warned, reaching out to wipe the blood away and clean the cut.
Mike winced, but he didn't complain. His attention stayed firmly on Spot, and Ezra wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that.
What had he been expecting, really?
“Doesn't look too bad,” Ezra said, assessing the scratch on Mike's face. “She just barely got you.”
“Is she okay?” Mike asked, finally glancing at Ezra, concern in his eyes.
“She's fine now that she's been told she's a good girl and given a mouse. Food fixes everything.”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah, I remember them being anyone's for a meal.”
“They are,” Ezra agreed. “So all we have to worry about is Rachel killing me for letting this happen.”
Mike shook his head. “No, uh… that's been over for a while. Little over two years, now?”
“Oh.” Ezra tried to keep his nervous swallow as quiet as possible. “I'm sorry. I just assumed… I saw her name on the guest list.”
“Oh,” Mike said, not even trying to hide the way he tensed up.
“I think weallassumed. Sorry.”
Mike shook his head again, sitting back in his chair. “It's fine. I'm over it, I think.”
He reached out to run his finger over one of the older scratches on the table. Ezra couldn't remember how it got there, but he thought maybe Mike could. Judging by the look in his eyes, being here was bringing back a lot of memories.
Ezra hoped they were good ones. Mike looked tired.
His pretty brown eyes still had that spark Ezra had always loved, just as expressive as ever. He'd filled out a little, no longer the skinny kid Ezra remembered, but with the body of a grown man now.
Tiredness aside, he was no less attractive than he had been. His lips still curved into the kind of soft smile that made Ezra desperate to be on the receiving end of it.
And he had been. Thousands of times.
But it'd never quite been enough to satisfy him. Mike had disappeared from his life too soon.
“I'msureit'll be fine,” Ezra said, offering Mike a clean cotton round to press to the scratch until it stopped bleeding. “The wedding I mean, the scratch is barely an issue.”
Mike took it and held it to his face, their fingers brushing together.
His fingers were still warm. They always had been.
