Willa Okati - By Your Side.pdf - Willa Okati - SilverWitch

By Your Side

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By Your Side

Willa Okati

www.loose-id.com

By Your Side

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eISBN 978-1-60737-883-9

Editor: Antonia Pearce

Cover Artist: Marci Gass

Printed in the United States of America

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Dedication

For Patric.

Prologue

“Kind of early for you to be leaving the party, isn’t it? Especially when it’s your birthday

they’re celebrating.”

The corners of Roman’s eyes crinkled up when he smiled. Matthieu reflected, not for the

first time, that he’d be a fine-looking man when he was old.

“Are you surprised?” He cradled his guitar safely in his arms and scooted over to make

room on the edge of the dock.

Matthieu chuckled. “Not really, cher.” He toed off his boots before sitting beside Roman,

the wood cool and rough beneath him. The night sky seemed to stretch on forever above him,

black and smooth. “Guess the shenanigans are more my thing.”

“And that’s why you’re here with me, not there.”

“Who says I didn’t come to take you by the scruff and haul you back?”

Roman murmured to his guitar with soft notes. “Because I know you’d rather be out here

where it’s quiet. I know you.”

“Too sharp for your own good, aren’t you?” And not wrong.

Looking at him, Matthieu wanted to rumple Roman’s hair; he wanted to laze the night

away out here on the floating dock and take his leisure.

Take more than that, come to think of it.

He cleared his throat instead. “Still. Party or not, it’s something to celebrate, being eight-

een and a man grown. All that world out there you can burn through. As much freedom as you

could want, and no one tells you what you can’t do.”

“They never could.”

“From what I’ve seen, isn’t that God’s own truth?”

“You tell me.” Roman glanced sideways, puckish, at him. His fingers drifted across the

strings of his guitar, playing random chords that might or might not become a song.

“Bah.” Matthieu intended to leave. He found himself lingering. There was more appeal to

the quiet than the clamor, and Roman’s music… “What’s that one called?”

“Don’t know yet.” He lightly thumped the solid body of the guitar with his knuckles. “But I

will.”

“Always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“About some things, yeah. I am.” Roman’s sideways glance lingered, older and more

thoughtful than eighteen. More knowing than men Matthieu’s age, than Matthieu himself, even

with the fifteen-year age difference between them. Sometimes Roman made him feel ancient.

And sometimes he made Matthieu feel like a kid again.

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