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Jeremy’s smile was slow and radiant, and Jean had to look away. He needed to leave before he got himself in trouble, but of course Jeremy followed him to the kitchen.
“I was right, wasn’t I? You really are going to make the same mistakes all over again.”
“Does that really matter?” Jeremy asked, studying Jean with a stare that felt prying. “I’m not learning French for anyone but you.”
“It makes you more interesting,” Jean said, and watched the way Jeremy’s jaw worked on silent protests. That he wouldn’t even defend himself said worlds to how disappointed he was in his thoughtlessness; he didn’t want Jean to like this side of him. Jean finally took pity on him and explained, “Not your capacity for unkindness, but how fiercely you fight against it.”
“Fuck what I deserve. What about what I want?”
That Jean could scrounge up so much emotion for a man who’d practically left fingerprints on his throat was unbearable. How Jean’s kind heart had survived a place like Evermore, Jeremy wasn’t sure. It was bruised and bleeding, but it wasn’t broken. Jeremy wasn’t sure if that ache in his chest was pride or grief. Whatever it was, it was hard to breathe around.
“I am not sorry. Perhaps I should be. But I will choose you every time. You, and Cat, and Laila, every time. I will lose them all if I must.”
The dog was oblivious to or unmoved by Jean’s disapproval and instead pressed a wet nose to the underside of his chin. Jean tipped his head away, earning a huff before Rex went still. Jeremy studied the dog a minute longer, then said, “He’s asleep.” “He’s faking it,” Jean said.
