Chapter Eleven

Marin

K ert jumped to his feet from the spot on my lap and ran to the door.

“What is it?” I stood up from the pillows and blankets that had been our couch for over a week.

“Your kids are coming!” Kert yelled.

I groaned and followed him. “For the last time, they’re not mine!”

“But you’re their fun neighbor gunkle so that counts.”

Thankfully, Kert and I were dressed, even if the room had smelled like sex.

Kert opened the door and I hovered in the background, waiting for the scene to unveil. The spot gave me the perfect view of Kert’s pert ass in tight black jeans. Hopefully, I’ll get to bury my face between those cheeks tonight. The purple crop top revealed a sliver of his midriff as if he wanted to taunt me all day prancing around in it. It was the same one he wore to the gallery opening, with Michelangelo’s quote “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

As expected, Bohdan and Danilo stood on the other side, their mouths opened in similar shocked expressions. Bohdan, being seven, was smaller than his ten-year-old brother. Both had short blond hair and white human complexion.

“Hi. Is Marin here?” Danilo asked.

“Come on in.” I moved closer behind Kert so they could see me over his head.

“I’m Kert. And you must be Bohdan and Danilo,” Kert said in a serious tone. “I’ve heard you’re the new up-and-coming artists in the neighborhood.”

Bohdan giggled.

Danilo straightened his back. “Not yet. We came to decorate.” He lifted a box he was holding, identical to the one his brother had.

“Let’s go, then.” Kert stepped aside to let them in.

“It’s a real tree!” Bohdan jumped up with a yelp and ran to the living room.

“That’s pretty cool.” Danilo held his composure, but his eyes sparkled with excitement just like his brother’s.

“I got it from a friend upstate who has his own forest and farm and he delivered yesterday. He’s also good at carving figurines from wood.”

“One of your artsy-fartsy friends?” Bohdan knelt in front of the tree and turned over the cardboard box he’d brought with him, unloading a myriad of hand-made ornaments.

“You’re not supposed to say that.” Danilo punched his brother in the arm.

“Ouch! Marin wouldn’t mind. It’s not offensive. It’s funny. His friends are not the nouveau riche types you see in the media.”

“Kert here is a clay sculptor.” I threw the grinning krampus under the bus full of opinionated kids.

“Really? What do you sculpt? People?” Danilo perked up.

“Pottery?” Bohdan grimaced.

Kert chuckled. “Whatever I want. What inspires me.”

“See, that’s an artsy-fartsy reply.” Bohdan told his brother while pointing at Kert.

“Are you famous?” Danilo asked.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” I kneeled between the boys. “Show me your creations.”

“It’s aliiiive!! Bohdan waved a painted figurine of an elf on a string. “I made this with the air-dry clay you gave us.”

“That’s pretty good.” Kert plopped next to me and inspected the figurine in Bohdan’s hand. “You’ve had a good teacher.” He shoulder-shoved me.

“Are you boyfriends?”

“Yes,” Kert said while I said: “No,” at the same time.

Kert gave me an exasperated look so I winked at him to soften him up.

“Yes, we’re boyfriends,” I said. “But Kert is leaving after Christmas so don’t get used to him.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Danilo pulled out a paper chain from his box and shuffled closer to the tree.

“It’s complicated. My life is in Berlin. I teach at university, but I also have classes for kids like you.” He stood up. “Let me help you with that. The placement needs to be strategic. See.” He guided the boy to move the chain a tier higher and closer to the edge.

Hearing Kert mention the importance of his life away from me turned my stomach so much I had to get a drink. I came back with a carafe of water and sat on the floor, watching them decorate.

“Where should mine go?” Bohdan jumped up.

Kert rubbed his hands. “Show me what you got. Your clay ornaments should definitely be displayed front and center.”

Once the kids’ decorations were up, I pulled out the boxes of baubles Kert and I had purchased on the Christmas market, each a hand-made treasure.

My heart warmed up seeing Kert get along with my tiny friends so well. But it also hurt when Kert mentioned his pending departure. He had a life in Germany, family, friends, and a career. Who was I to even consider asking him to stay with me? If I cared for him so much, I could go back to Berlin. Yet I didn’t want to. Leaving New York would feel like giving up, like failure.

I’d thought it would be easy to expand my friendship with Kert to include sex. But assuming I could simply switch these feelings on and off had been a mistake.

Once I’d had a taste of his skin and heard his moans as he came under me, I couldn’t imagine him disappearing from my life. Not completely, but being an ocean apart would be a nightmare. One I had to make peace with very soon.

Hours into bedazzling the apartment, we were done, tired, and hungry. Thankfully, when Lana picked up the kids, she left two large tupperware boxes filled with food in her wake.

I locked the door behind her and turned to Kert. He wasn’t in the living room. “Kert?”

“I’m putting the boxes away in the closet room.”

“Don’t go in there!” Panic filled my lungs and I dashed to the room.

It was too late.

Kert stood with a sheet in hand facing a painting he’d uncovered.

On a backdrop of a city landscape a man stood with his back to the audience. His naked, pert ass and a slim, long tail were accentuated in delicate brush strokes. His short, filed horns peeked from an unruly mop of raven-black hair.

Kert unveiled another painting with the same naked figure, this time on a sunny day at the beach.

“Marin? What are these?” Kert didn’t turn to me, but the trembling in his voice was hard not to notice.