Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where did my brain go just now? How long was I silent?
“I guess my point is”— I clear my throat— “that your nose would tell you if something was happening between us.”
“Maybe they have a cold,” Koen drawls. “Maybe that cold made their brains leak out of their ears.”
“Koen, given your history— ”
“My history?” He stands, suddenly towering over all of us. The little strands of chopped hair still clinging to his shoulders silently slip to the floor. Xabier, who spoke last, takes a step back. “Do tell me more about my history. What have I done to warrant these doubts?”
“Your— ”
“Think very carefully before you finish that sentence.”
“Hey.” My hand meets the hard heat of Koen’s stomach, and I quietly slip in front of him, ignoring the additional helping of befudd
