Page 53 of Familiar Things New

Somehow, the wall he’d built up to keep others out was still holding strong, even while his mind was fuzzy from the alcoholic beverages he’d enjoyed too many of that evening.

But then, as Edwin let himself register the clear concern in Andrew’s brown eyes, he felt his resolve waver a little, a crack starting to form in his social armor.

“Or, well . . .”

Andrew smiled warmly. “You can tell me.”

No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t be honest with Andrew about what was bothering him. Not entirely. But . . . perhaps . . .

“I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed,” he decided to say.

“And that’s a bad thing? To feel so relaxed right now, I mean?”

Edwin huffed a quiet laugh. “No, it’s not. But I wish I could feel this way more often. Not, ah, not this exact way. I’d rather not feel so wobbly. Still, I feel unburdened by my insecurities for once. And it’s freeing.”

“Insecurities?” Andrew balked. “What sorts of things could Edwin Beasley possibly be insecure about?”

Staring at the half-eaten pastry, Edwin shrugged. Despite the wistful sorrow still tugging on his heart, he found himself smiling a bit, charmed by Andrew’s implied compliment. Andrew scooched his chair closer.

“Edwin, I have admired you ever since we first met. You seem so confident to me. So . . . self-possessed.”

Edwin sputtered a laugh. He covered his mouth with his hand while he tried to compose himself.

“Do I really?” he asked. “Oh, Andrew, I am far from either of those things.”

Edwin looked into Andrew’s eyes, which still had so much warmth in them. Even before Andrew began to speak, Edwin felt his cheeks heating, his heart stuttering from the compliments that might soon tumble forth from Andrew’s lips.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Andrew said, his whispered voice barely audible over the string instruments playing nearby. “Because you should be those things. You’re kind and funny and . . . You’re a remarkable person, Edwin. Really. I still can’t believe that you . . . well, that you want to be something. With me.”

Knitting his brows together, Edwin shook his head. “Why not?”

“Is it not obvious?” Andrew asked. “Edwin, I can barely walk the length of a room without falling over. I can barely get through a conversation without making some sort of verbal faux pas. Even my handwriting is messy. I’m messy. And so often I find myself wishing that I possessed even a little of your elegance.”

Edwin’s cheeks burned hotter, and his eyes fell to his lap.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m having a hard time believing you, but thank you.”

“Have you always been so insecure?” Andrew asked with a befuddled expression as Edwin looked up through his lashes.

“Always,” Edwin admitted. He sighed. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person who struggles so much in this way.”

“Definitely not. I think most people probably feel the way that you do.”

Edwin couldn’t help but scoff. “Doubtful.”

“Oh, come on, Edwin.” Andrew nudged Edwin’s foot with his own a couple of times. “Do you really believe everyone else is walking through life completely confident in themselves?”

“More so than I,” Edwin retorted, his tone turning a touch playful thanks to Andrew’s flirtatious touch.

Andrew smiled a little, the intensity in his eyes softening, though they still seemed to be shining with a firm fondness that was just so wonderful and heartening. “Well, I hope that changes for you.”

Andrew nudged Edwin’s foot once more. Edwin’s lips curled into a small smile, and he tapped Andrew’s foot in response.

“Thank you. I do, too.”

After a brief pause, Andrew placed a gentle hand on Edwin’s shoulder, and Edwin’s stomach fluttered. The two men continued to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like a long while as the music from the band played in the background, the flurry of notes making the moment even more beautiful.

Finally, Edwin forced himself to tear his eyes away, and Andrew let his hand fall from Edwin’s shoulder. Looking out into the sea of costume-wearing party-goers, Edwin attempted to find William in the crowd.