He tried to twist round to look at Jason. Jason’s hand coaxed him back into place. Colby let the low unfurling pleasure of that direction—Jason taking charge of him, taking care of him—sink into his bones, for a moment. He shut his eyes, feeling it.
“Was that all he wanted? Advice about trousers?”
“Oh…no, sorry. It was about our wedding plans, in fact, and I said possibly yes but I wanted to ask you, and then he said hello to you, and that I should tell you he’s looking forward to having us over for another Wizards & Wyverns game session next time we’re back home, sorry, London home, and he’ll promise not to get us distracted by trying to translate Shakespeare for the deep woods gnomes.”
“At some point,” Jason said, “I was a decent Game Master and could actually get my group to finish a
