2. Kaino

2

Kaino

Bjorn blinks, not saying a word, and it’s so unlike him that I consider calling the nurse. “Bjorn?”

“Wow.” He slowly blinks a few more times. “Whatever they gave me for the pain is some good shit.” He rubs his eyes then looks at me again. “Really good shit.”

I snort and raise an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me come in, or will we be having this visit through the doorway?”

“Damn, you even sound like you.”

I push the door open and lean against the doorjamb, fighting a smile. “That’s because I am me. Should I go?” I gesture over my shoulder to the elevators.

“No!” Bjorn flings himself forward, like he’s trying to sit up, and gasps, all the color draining from his face as he drops back against the bed. “Fuck.” I turn to call a nurse. “Wait, don’t go!”

I gesture over my shoulder. “I’m going to get someone. You’re in pain.”

“Fuck that.” He waves me into the room. “I moved wrong. It’s fine now.”

He doesn’t look fine. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” I give in and walk toward the bed.

He watches me intently as I sit in one of the chairs, ignoring his offered hand. Bjorn drops it to the bed, and I wince at the momentary flash of hurt in his eyes. But it’s here and gone, quickly replaced by a dopey grin. “You’re really here. Why? And how are you?”

For a moment, I’m unsure what to say. I thought I’d be prepared to see him again. God, I was so very wrong. He’s as vibrant as I remember, filling the room with his exuberance. Even hopped up on pain meds after a near-death experience, he radiates energy and life. “I’m well. I saw the news about the robbery. They finally released your name to the press. You’re all over the TV.” I cross my legs and smirk. “You always loved being the center of attention.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, the lines a bit deeper than I recall, though he’s still ridiculously handsome. There’s not a speck of gray in his chestnut brown hair. It’s cut close on the sides but left a bit longer on top. His dark scruff, almost but not quite long enough to be called a beard, accentuates his square jaw but doesn’t hide his full lips. He catches me staring, and that plush mouth turns up in a lazy smile. “Keeps the attention away from you. Just how you like it.”

“True.” I uncross my legs and lean in. “How are you? Really.”

His hand twitches like he wants to reach for me again, and I appreciate that he doesn’t. So much so that I almost want to reach for him. Almost. But it’s been too long. “I’m okay. They’re letting me go home tomorrow. Thank god, because I’m bored out of my mind just lying here.”

“And you’re going to go home to do what? Chores? Go for a hike?” I shake my head. “They’re going to put you on restricted activity. Bedrest, or at least couch rest. So you won’t be doing much more there than you are here.”

Bjorn pouts, and it shouldn’t be so charming. Except everything he does is charming. It’s always been that way. And being this close reminds me how much I loved being around his energy. How does he still affect me so much? There’s no point fighting my smile because the charismatic ass knows that lower lip of his is potent. “Why are you being mean to me? We haven’t seen each other in almost five years, and you stroll in here, all bossy, and say awful things.” I snort, trying to fight his charm. It’s a losing battle. “At least I can play video games at home. I bought that awesome new RPG everyone’s been waiting for. Instead of watching reruns of old cooking shows, I could be home playing that.”

I’m almost positive I know which game he means, and it’s been consuming my time for weeks. “The one based on D&D? How far are you?”

Bjorn’s eyes light up. “I made it to the troll encampment. Not sure how I’m going to play things yet. I might try to bluff my way through the negotiations.”

I agree with his approach, if his charisma is high enough. And Bjorn’s characters are basically replicas of himself, so I’m sure his plan will work. “It’s a sound strategy. You don’t have the druid in your party yet?”

He points at me. “Ha! I knew you’d be playing!” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Who are you romancing?”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Bjorn, the game isn’t a romance simulator. It’s about saving lives. If you constantly take breaks to woo characters, everyone could die.”

He relaxes into his pillow and crosses his distractingly muscular arms. “Who?”

With a resigned sigh, I give in. He’ll wait me out until I do. “The mage.”

His nose wrinkles, and his full lips pull down into a frown. “Really? He’s so…”

“Extra? Boisterous? Needs to be the life of the party? The center of attention?” I raise my eyebrow, and those lips curve into a self-satisfied, toothy grin. Asshole.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m romancing the vampire.”

With great effort, I keep the surprise from my expression. The vampire with white-blond hair and unusually colored eyes. I ignore how my heart beats a little faster. “Interesting choice.”

“He has a tragic backstory.”

I shake my head because my god, that’s so Bjorn. “Always with the need to be the hero, even in video games.”

He shrugs. “Can’t change who I am.”

“True, if you don’t want to. And if you’re happy with how that’s working for you, then keep at it.” The infinitesimal wince might be due to his injury. More likely, I’ve hit a nerve. “How is that working for you?”

“Fuck off.” I laugh because there’s no malice in his tone, though his scowl tells me everything. “Did you come here to harass me?” He narrows his eyes. “Why did you really come here?”

“I told you. It’s a slow news week, so local coverage has been all about your heroics. Did you honestly have to throw yourself between the hostage and the guy with the knife?” The mention of the knife makes him wince again. “I’m sorry. I know you have… feelings about criminals with knives. And it’s not my business.” Not anymore.

An awkward silence grows as we both remember why that is, and I wonder, not for the first time, if things would have worked out differently if I hadn’t been so focused on my career, or Bjorn hadn’t been so wrapped up in being everything to his siblings. And yet, here we are, five years on, talking and laughing like no time has passed. I take a moment to calm my fraying nerves, finding my center. “How have you been?”

The gratitude in his eyes for the subject change loosens the tightness in my chest. “Good. You know, other than the whole almost dying thing.” He laughs like being stabbed is a joke. “Oh, Erik finally moved back. I don’t think you ever got to meet him. He and his fiancé bought a house out near Carnation. And Gunnar and I are working through things. I think we’re making progress. Finally.” He frowns, and my heart aches for him. Bjorn has always wanted a closer relationship with his youngest brother, and it seems they still haven’t achieved that. “He’s had a bit of a setback because of me.”

He gestures to his injury, and my eyes widen. Their mother’s death was especially difficult for Gunnar. Then again, I can’t imagine it would be easy for anyone to watch their mother bleed out on the sidewalk from a mugging gone wrong. “Damn. Is he okay?”

“Yes and no. He seems to have come to terms with the stabbing, but he fucked up his relationship with his boyfriend in the process.” He grimaces. “I hope they work through it because Jocelin is good for Gunnar.”

“And how’s Astrid?” I always liked Bjorn’s sister. She’s level-headed and irreverent and never took Bjorn’s need to control everything personally. She’d put him in his place when he tried it on her, and I’m guessing she probably hasn’t changed much in that respect.

Talking about her makes Bjorn light up. “She’s great. Her career is on fire, and she has an amazing guy in her life.” A self-deprecating smile replaces the grin. “Hashtag life goals. Right?” His gaze meets mine, and I prepare myself for his next question. “How about you? Seeing anyone?”

There it is. I knew we’d eventually get around to it, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved to get it out of the way, worried about his reaction to my answer, or exhausted by the whole topic. All of the above? “No.” I don’t elaborate. I also don’t miss the widening of his pupils. Why does that make my heart race? “It’s not a priority.”

He nods, like he expected the answer, but he’s doing a good job of keeping his reaction neutral. When he changes the subject, I relax. “So, you’re still interpreting?”

“Yes. I’m actually headed to the university when I leave here to meet a new client who’s a student.”

Bjorn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Isn’t that a big commitment? You didn’t want to be tied down to one client. Seems like interpreting for a student would be a full-time investment.”

All too well, I recall our last conversation about that. How, at the time, going to the same places day after day, interpreting the same topics over and over, seemed stifling. It’s why I became certified in multiple areas, rather than the more common single focus. It had been challenging, but the extra effort to achieve the additional certifications was worth it. But that meant interpreting at odd hours, in various places across the state. My schedule was a whirlwind of travel, and it didn’t allow much time for a relationship. Especially with someone who also had a job with difficult hours, and a family he was devoted to. It’s why Bjorn and I ultimately didn’t work out. “It’s a commitment, but this student’s part of the master’s program, which means fewer classes. Many are online now, so there are minimal constraints on my time.” That earns me a non-committal hum from Bjorn. “But to answer your real question, I’ve had my fill of running from one end of the state to the other. I’m discovering the joy of staying in one place for longer than three nights.”

“Is that so?” Bjorn doesn’t hide his grin, and my heart races again.

“It is. And what about you?”

He shakes his head in confusion. “What about me?”

I raise an eyebrow, keeping the rest of my expression flat. “You’ve basically told me all of your chicks are out of the nest now. You’ve been injured quite severely, and you’re pushing forty, if I remember correctly. And unless something has drastically changed, you don’t have to work.”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest in an all too familiar gesture. “Your point?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m simply asking a question. As a friend.” I realize I may have overstepped. We parted amicably and said we’d stay friends but haven’t kept in touch. At all. Damn. I push to my feet. “I apologize. It’s none of my business.”

Bjorn’s anger evaporates. “We are friends. At least I’d like us to be. And you’re not pointing out anything I don’t already know.” He glances out the window and a slight frown tugs at his mouth. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot about that, when my mind isn’t fuzzy with pain meds.” He looks back at me. “What would I do?”

The question Bjorn leaves unspoken is, who would he be if he wasn’t out saving people? That’s not something I can answer. “It depends on what you want. Once you know the answer to that, the rest will fall in line.”

Before either of us can say anything to make things more awkward, there’s a knock on the door. “It’s probably my soon-to-be brother-in-law.” At my raised eyebrow, he grins. “Erik’s fiancé. He’s been here for a little while and I’ve been expecting him to pop in.” He looks toward the door. “Come in.”

The door opens, and a very tall, classically attractive, male-presenting person with a straight nose, closely cropped facial hair, a light blond man bun, and dark-rimmed glasses steps into the room. His faded denim button-down is paired with navy chinos, and the look is pulled together by a pale gray blazer with rolled sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. It’s very librarian or professorial. This must be Bjorn’s brother-in-law. When he steps into the room, his eyes skim over me, barely sparing me a glance before locking on Bjorn. “Hello.”

Bjorn’s mouth drops open, but milliseconds later he’s grinning like a fiend. “Ho-ly shit. Xander.”