He understood. Jer was worth loving.
The pang surprised him. It hit like the slip of a knife, only instead of nicking his hand it’d somehow caught his heart.
He tasted salt and air, when he breathed. He wanted Nerein’s gaze to rest on him with want, without picturing Jer instead. He knew that wasn’t the case, and his stomach did an unhappy flip about it. It hadn’t felt this way in years; the feeling had snuck up gradual and abrupt as a kitten’s slow-build practice pounce.
He wanted to find out how that midnight-ocean skin felt under his hand. He wanted to make those glittery eyes smile and laugh. He wanted to be there to see Nerein explore other kinds of bread, and fantastical operettas in Cade’s ridiculous amphitheater, and his own favorite cove at sunrise, where the light came in just right through a hole in the rock and spilled heart-shaped gold all over the pebbled shore.