I started to drop my outstretched hand, but Connor abruptly stopped laughing and captured my hand in between his. “That does sound like me.”
“Right.” Ignoring Connor’s weird mood, I turned to look back at the werewolf—who was speaking in a lowered tone to the House Tellier wizard. “Hey, can you hear what they’re saying?”
Connor—still holding my hand—leaned a little closer to me. “Who? The mutt and charlatan?”
I let Connor continue to hold my hand—I’d pull it from him when he asked why I wanted to know what the werewolf and wizard were talking about to distract him—but the scent of his cologne tickled my nose with notes of spices and some kind of woodsy scent I didn’t recognize. “Nobody uses the word charlatan anymore.”
“Nobody is an uncultured swine and doesn’t appreciate the art of fine words.” Connor carelessly said as he locked his eyes on the werewolf and wizard. “They’re exchanging greetings—the werewolf is saying he needs to visit again… I think he’s referring to House Tellier?”
I watched the werewolf fold his arms across his chest and glare down at the wizard, who vehemently shook his head in obvious refusal.
“Why would a werewolf visit a wizard House?” I asked.
Connor rubbed the top of my hand. “I’m not sure, but the wizard definitely doesn’t want him there.”
The wizard stormed off, and the werewolf strode after him keeping pace with his much longer legs.
“And now they’re out of my hearing range—too much noise in this city.” Connor raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at me—I’d learned in our short friendship that he had very expressive eyebrows. “Might I enquire what caused you to suddenly become so interested in listening in?”
“Just curious what a werewolf and wizard were doing together.” I started to pull my hand from Connor’s grasp as planned, but Connor slid his grasp down to my wrist and placed my hand on his chest. “I’m still wondering what has caused this sudden bout of touchy-feely-ness you’ve been displaying for the past few weeks.”
Connor held my hand flat against his chest—which was cool on my fingers as vampires had naturally low body temperatures. “Loneliness?” he suggested.
“You’re lonely?” I asked.
There was a new mischievous glint in his eyes. “I didn’t say I was the lonely one. I’m very concerned about you.”
I’d been busy watching the werewolf and House Tellier wizard—they’d reached Main Street and were joining the flow of traffic. Only half listening, I started to shake my head but stopped and considered it.
I’d moved to Magiford at the beginning of the year, leaving my family—my entire support network—behind. I’d made a few friends, and I was making inroads with my squad—at a very slow rate—but if I was focusing on time spent outside of work, I spent the most time with Connor.
My family weren’t huge cuddlers—that was for werewolves—but I did miss Nan’s tight bear hugs, leaning against my dad on the flight home after a night of tracking vampires, and my mom’s gentle fingers when she’d braid my hair for me because I was busy cleaning a gun and it kept getting in my face.
I was lonely—not horribly so—but enough to feel a tiny nag of pain. Connor had filled much of that space, so I hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he was right.
What does that mean for him? He’s never been interested in any of the humans in our apartment building. He seems to have fewer friends than I do, but I suppose I could be completely off base about that as I have no idea what he does at night.
“Perhaps you’re right. It is generally believed that people don’t get enough hugs,” I said. “Skinship is very important to general mental health.”
Connor stared at me, then relaxed into a low chuckle. “You do throw me sometimes with how logical you are, Brunch.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve run out of new food terms of endearment, haven’t you?”
He raised his eyebrows at me and looked downright arrogant. “Well, I’m not going to call you Potluck, because you’re just for me and not to be shared.”
“That is very on brand for you,” I acknowledged. “Back to our conversation, I’m very impressed with how emotionally intelligent you are.”
Connor still had possession of my hand and was still holding it pressed against his chest. He shrugged as he relaxed his grip on my wrist and slid his palm up the back of my hand to cover my fingers with his. “It’s not that shocking I’d recognize loneliness. It’s probably the strongest emotion vampires are forced to tangle with.”