aunt and uncle,” Julian said. He paced a little, heading toward the little bridge and leaning against the railing. The sound of the ocean was muted to almost nothing in his naked ear, but he could see the way the wind was sending the waves crashing against the shore. “He told me this morning at breakfast.”
“Wow,” Ilan said, sounding as stunned as Julian had felt sitting there across the table from his father. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Neither do I. I’m happy—I mean, it was a damn long time coming and…” He trailed off with a heavy breath. “He looked relieved but also terrified, so I think he’d probably like the company. Do you want me to ask him?”
“I’ll call him,” Ilan said. “I’m not going to be in until really late. I’m covering the ED for Beckett and his final rounds are at seven.”
“Okay.” Julian bowed his head and felt a sort of delicious ache in his muscles which he wanted to press into, to force it to linger so he didn’t go a single moment without remembering where Archer had been. “I can’t wait to see you.”
Ilan made a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Soon. You just have tonight, and then tomorrow evening it’ll be over.”
“I’m not worried about that anymore,” Julian admitted, and it felt good to say it, like a heavy weight had been lifted but he only just noticed that the burden was gone. “I regret the way I panicked at that dinner. I know I made myself look like an idiot, but…” He bit his lip and debated about whether or not he wanted to tell Ilan that the escort Chuck had hired was the governor’s brother. And he would tell him—eventually. Ilan would find out the moment he got here and Archer’s name was revealed, but he didn’t want to have that conversation over the phone.
Too much came with it, because Julian didn’t plan to let this end. He would do anything and everything to see this through, so long as Archer still wanted it when it was over. It would take some time to convince Ilan that it was the right thing, though, and doing it over the phone would only encourage Ilan to make a stupid decision—like abandon his post and make a scene in front of everyone.
And he wasn’t brave enough for that. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m proud of you.” Ilan’s voice interrupted his chaotic thoughts, and Julian cleared his throat before Ilan spoke again. “You were a lot braver than I would have been.”
Julian couldn’t bring himself to believe that. He felt like Archer had been the cowardly way, giving into his pride and the lingering ache that Bryce had left behind. He felt foolish and ridiculous, but then Archer had come along and reminded Julian that he was worth so much more than Bryce had ever given him credit for. He was worth everything, and none of that rested on what people thought about him.
He’d been like that once—years before, when he was younger and more reckless. His mother’s barbs had hurt worse, and it was only the love for his father that kept him tethered. But all of that had crumbled, and reality had re-written itself, and it was time for him to step away. For good this time.
If it didn’t last with Archer, he’d survive it.
The call ended shortly after, and Julian trudged back into the cottage to find Archer freshly showered and slightly pink in the cheeks. He didn’t entirely meet Julian’s eyes, but before Julian could panic or worry, he crossed the distance and curled his hands around the back of Julian’s neck.
“Hey. Everything alright?”
Julian reached up and cupped his cheek, tracing a line under Archer’s bottom lip. “That was just Ilan.” Before he could say more, Archer leaned in and kissed him. They were small and sweet, and served to ground him. The promise behind the press of his lips—that this was more than just a fling—grounded him in the moment. “Thank you.”
Archer smiled shyly, then shook his head. “Trust me, that was…you don’t need to thank me.”
Julian laughed and wrapped his arms around Archer’s waist. What he was feeling was nothing like he ever had in the past. It was intense, bubbling just below the surface of his skin, but instead of getting him worked up and overwrought, it soothed him. Archer’s life was similar to his own, and yet starkly different, and he had no idea what