KieranLunch is a battlefield.It shouldn't be. It consists of roast chicken, crusty bread still warm from the oven, freshly churned butter, a sharp, crumbly cheese that tastes like heaven, and wine that shines like rubies in the crystal goblets. It’s a meal fit for a honeymoon celebration.But we are not alone.Across the table sits Eli. Picking at a grape with the meticulous precision of a surgeon, his eyes bright and entirely too observant. Next to him is Ronan, a silent, brooding mountain of muscle and patience who is methodically destroying a chicken leg.Beside me is Alexei. My Mate. The man who, mere hours ago, had me pinned against a mirror until I forgot my own name. He’s eating with gusto, his knee pressing against mine under the table. A constant, solid point of contact. Here. I’m here.It feels good. It feels right."You're sitting very straight," Eli observes, finally popping the grape into his mouth. He chews slowly, staring at me. "Remarkably upright. For a man who was
Last Updated : 2026-01-27 Read more