Page 43 of Familiar Things New

Edwin

P.S. Your beloved blue orchid is thriving.

Andrew exhaled a soft sigh as heat bloomed on his cheeks. But then there was a sudden pinching in his chest, and he had to hold back a wince. Because no matter how lovely Edwin’s reply might have been, Andrew couldn’t let himself forget that Edwin had rejected him. Edwin only wanted the two of them to be friends. And so, Andrew would have to take care to guard his heart over the coming days, no matter how wonderful it might be for the two of them to spend so much time together.

“Andrew!”

William’s voice saved Andrew from his rumination. Forcing a smile, he turned to look for his companions in the crowd. Edwin and William were hurrying toward the train, both of them holding their luggage.

“It seems as though you were right to decline my offer to take you here in my family’s carriage,” William said to Andrew as he approached. “We might have missed our train. Someone took forever to be ready to leave.”

Arching an eyebrow, Edwin replied, “Yes, and that someone was you.”

“Edwin,” William said through a light scoff. “Don’t be rude.”

“It was infinitely ruder of us to be fifteen minutes late,” Edwin countered, a playful lilt in his voice, though he kept his expression serious.

William held up a hand in front of Edwin’s face, essentially blocking him from view. “Anyway, Andrew, I’m delighted to see that you made it here on your own all right. Are the rest of your things on the train already?”

“They are. I, uhm, I only kept my camera with me because I’m worried someone might break it if I put it in the luggage car,” Andrew replied shyly. His carefulness would probably seem silly or even obsessive to his friends, especially to William. Eager to move past it, Andrew moved his head sideways so that he could peer around William’s hand and greet Edwin. He smiled the moment he and Edwin locked eyes. “It’s nice to see you, Edwin. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Edwin smiled back. “Yes, it certainly has been.”

Goodness, the man was so handsome, Andrew could have fainted on the spot. All of a sudden, William shoved Andrew toward the train, which saved him from swooning hard enough to fall.

“Let’s board,” William said.

All three men headed to the car.

From behind Andrew, Edwin said, “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I’d like to try to fall asleep before the train leaves,” William replied.

“Why?” Edwin asked through a chuckle as they climbed the stairs.

“It’s only seven thirty. Normally, I’d still be asleep right now.”

Edwin laughed some more as they all entered the first passenger car. Andrew couldn’t help but smile, too. Oh, how he adored Edwin’s laugh.

“Our car is one more over!” William called out.

Andrew continued through that passenger car and into the next one.

Once he reached it, he found himself confronted with a level of grandeur so stunning and unfamiliar, all he could do was stare, his feet becoming fixed to the floor right in front of the entrance. Everything in the car was beautiful, from the red leather Chesterfields lining the walls to the thick golden curtains hanging over the windows to the floral-patterned rug. Train cars weren’t normally like this, were they? When William had offered to pay for the train fare, Andrew certainly hadn’t expected this.

He was still standing there frozen and slack-jawed, when Edwin bumped into him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Andrew spluttered as he came back to the present. He whirled back around to face Edwin, who was blushing madly. “Sorry,” he repeated once more in a whispered tone. Without waiting for Edwin to potentially reply, he looked over at William. “Why would you pay for something like this?”

William arched an eyebrow, clearly befuddled. “Because I could?”

“It’s too much,” Andrew said. “It’s—”

“Good God, William,” Edwin blurted out, probably taking everything in for the first time himself. He circled around Andrew and walked farther into the car. “Why?!”

“Are you two gentlemen really complaining about riding to New York City in luxury?” William asked with a confused chuckle.

Andrew said, “Oh, I’m not complaining, exactly, but—”