Page 12 of Once Upon A Valentine
“Are you sure? I don’t want to… embarrass you.”
Roman snorted, “Try me.”
“Okay.” Bran leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, “Tell me what you know about power dynamics in a relationship.”
Roman startled, his eyes going wide. His mouth opened and then closed again. Bran almost laughed.
“You asked.”
“You’re right. I did.” Roman cleared his throat and shot a glance at the door before lowering his voice, “What makes you think I…”
“Oh come on. I know about your… preferences.” Bran tried and failed not to roll his eyes.
“Okay.” Roman nodded slowly, “Okay. So, your Julian is… submissive then?”
“Nope.” Bran smirked.
“Oh. Oh.” Roman blinked again and then seemed to collect himself, “Okay, so, then the first thing you need to know is that trust is key in any relationship but particularly in one with… power dynamics. You have to trust your partner to take care of you, to always have your best interest at the forefront of their mind. They might seem like the one in control but in reality, you hold all the power because everything they do is for you.”
Bran nodded because he wasn’t sure what else to say. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He liked the idea of not having to take care of himself, of trusting Julian to do it. God knew he’d have to be better at it than Bran had been for the last decade.
Roman smiled softly, “He must care for you a great deal to want to be with you and take care of you completely.”
Bran swallowed hard, the realization hitting him deep in the pit of his stomach. It was true, he realized. Julian wanted him. He wanted to be with him completely. He knew how much of a fuckup Bran was and still, he wanted him.
“And you care about him too?” Roman asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Bran admitted for the first time, “Yeah. I do.”
Chapter Five
Julian looked at the clock for the millionth time before giving up and going to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. It was Valentine’s Day and instead of being out on the town enjoying himself he had spent the entire day here, in his apartment, pacing and cursing himself for his own stupidity. Now it was dark, he was still alone and his phone hadn’t so much as chirped all day. He felt ridiculous.
He had known that Bran wasn’t going to call. He’d been telling himself the same thing since the moment he issued the offer, or had it been a challenge? It didn’t matter. He’d known even as he left Bran last night to contemplate his feelings and his needs, that the man wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be calling Julian to talk, let alone to ask for more.
Yet, instead of making plans, he had waited and he had allowed himself to hope.
Hope was a terrible thing. It only made reality worse. His dreams had crashed and burned all around him and hope had been the fuel on the fire.
He popped the top on a new bottle of malbec and tossed the cork in the bin. He poured a large glass, swirled it a bit and gave it practically no time to breathe before he took a long, hard drink. He sighed as the taste worked its way through him. He didn’t drink often but he was glad he had a bottle of wine on the rack for tonight and he supposed, if he got really desperate and dark, he could always open the bottle of bourbon that his friend, Brett, had given him as a Christmas present.
Just the thought of Brett and how he was spending his Valentine’s Day was enough to tempt Julian into opening the bottle. He had met Brett at an art gallery last year and they’d hit it off immediately. They had a lot in common in that they were both transplants to Knights Port, both originally from the south, and both career oriented. Julian had actually thought the handsome veterinarian might turn out to be the man capable of taking his attention off a certain Frost brother but then the artist on display at the showing had sidled up, wrapped an arm around the other man and introduced himself as Brett’s boyfriend.
The two made a striking pair and it had been obvious they were mad about one another. Julian had cursed any thought of the other man being single and fallen into friendly conversation with both Brett and his boyfriend, the uber-famous artist known only as Ward. Still, he’d been right that there was a connection between them and he and Brett had become friends, good friends even, over the past months, so much so that if he called and said he needed someone to distract him tonight, Brett would likely drop everything and come to Julian’s rescue.
But he didn’t dare make that call.
Just because he was unhappy today didn’t mean that he should make his friend miss out on the most romantic night of the year. No doubt Brett and his boyfriend had spent the day together laughing and smiling and would spend the night in each other’s arms. Julian had no right to take Brett away from that kind of happiness just because he couldn’t have it for himself.
He took another drink from his large glass of wine and headed towards the living room. He was barely out of the kitchen when he heard the sound of knocking at his door. He paused and turned back, unsure if the sound was actually coming from his door or from further down the hallway.
The noise came again, a few light taps against the heavy wood, and Julian frowned.
He turned back to the counter, putting his wine down and picking up his phone. It flashed at him, empty of any text messages or missed phone calls. He put it back down and sighed as he headed towards the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone so he figured it was probably his neighbor dropping in on him just to chat and say hello because, like Julian, he was often alone on the holidays.
Without giving it a second thought, Julian pulled the door open, prepared to greet his neighbor. Only it wasn’t old Mr. Moseley. Julian blinked but the image in front of him didn’t change. It took a moment for his brain to process what he was seeing, to realize it wasn’t a dream.
Branson Frost stood in the hallway, dressed in a simple blue button down that matched his eyes with dark jeans and holding a bouquet of flowers. Julian stared in shock. Flowers. Bran was here, on his doorstep, on Valentine’s day, and he had brought flowers. He wasn’t sure why it was the flowers that stuck in his mind as the strange part of the vision on his doorstep but it did. Bran had never struck him as the kind of man to give flowers and yet…
