People moved out of his path without apparently deciding to. He arrived at the counter and watched Alistair, who looked back at him with the particular satisfaction of someone whose hypothesis had been confirmed.
"You look tense," Alistair observed.
"You missed your seminar."
"I was detained."
The blond man looked between them with the expression of someone who had just registered an atmosphere he hadn't been briefed on. "You guys know each other?"
"Yes," Tav said.
"No," Alistair said simultaneously.
Silence.
The blond man took one slow step backward. Then another. "I'm going to — I have somewhere—"
He was already gone.
Tav met Alistair's eyes.
"You did that on purpose," he said.
"Did what?"
"All of it."
"I merely had coffee with—"
"You were watching the entrance," Tav said. "You tracked me coming in. You positioned yourself where I'd have a clear view of the interaction." He said it quietly enough that nobody in the surrounding café could hear. "You wanted a reaction."
A beat.
"Yes," Alistair said.
The direct honesty hit harder than denial would have.
"Why?" Tav asked.
Alistair looked at him with those amber eyes that saw everything and gave back only what they chose to. His expression was stripped of performance — not vulnerable exactly, but honest. The honesty that a particular truth was worth having out.
"Wanted to see what you'd do," he said.
"And?"
The ghost of a smile. "Now I know."
The café continued around them: conversations, coffee machines, people not paying attention to the particular charged electricity of this corner. Tav's hand was at his side and Alistair was less than two feet away and the thirty-six hours of avoidance had concluded, somewhat despite Tav's intentions, in this.
Then Alistair's fingers found Tav's wrist.
Beneath the counter line. Hidden from the rest of the café by the angle of their bodies. Two fingers against the inner wrist — light, certain, brief.
Possessive.
Tav's pulse jumped.
Alistair smiled.
