Page 13 of From Beijing, With Love

“And the long answer?” Yang asked, without a shred of the sarcasm he’d shown earlier, like he was actually interested in what Daniel had to say.

“Grew up in the ’burbs of Toronto, but I spent the last …” Daniel’s brain struggled through the mental accounting thanks to that cursed liquor. “Shit. I guess it’s been a decade. My Dutch mother hated the Canadian winter, which, you know, relatable. When the opportunity came up, she moved the two of us back to Dutch Land.”

“The two of you?”

Despite the copious amount of alcohol swimming in his veins, Daniel knew what Yang was asking. He had a deflection queued up, but he couldn’t get it out. It seemed inappropriate to avoid talking about his dad when he was in the city his dad was from.

“Just the two of us. My dad passed away when I was young,” Daniel said. Something shifted on Yang’s face, as if Daniel’s words struck a chord. Or maybe it was just the run-of-the-mill social discomfort of talking about a dead parent with an almost-stranger.

“Was he the one in the photo?” Yang asked when he finally spoke again.

Daniel nodded and forced his lips into a smile. “Anyway, uh, so yeah. I’m technically Canadian, but I live in Dutch Land. End of story.”

“Moving to a new country must have been hard. Was it lonely?” Yang asked, like it wasn’t the end of the story. It was the same question Daniel had asked on top of the Great Wall.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder what life would’ve been like if I’d stayed in one spot.” Daniel looked at Yang before averting his gaze. “Sorry, I don’t mean to assume …”

“That I’ve never left China?” Yang asked with the sardonic arch of a single brow. “It’s not a bad guess. No one in my entire extended family back in Xi’an—the city where I’m from—has ever left the country. Most of them probably don’t even own a passport. I guess I got lucky. I’m collaborating with a group at Cambridge, so I’ve been visiting them once a year since my PhD started.”

“PhD?” It took Daniel’s inebriated brain a second to remember that Yang wasn’t just a tour guide; he was some secret genius doing a PhD in physics.

“Experimental biophysics. One more year to go.” Yang shrugged like he hadn’t just said something totally impressive. If it had been Daniel, he would have definitely flexed the PhD part a bit harder. It might even be the first thing out of his mouth when meeting someone new.

“Are you supersmart, then?” Daniel teased as he handed the server his credit card. “Like rocket-scientist smart?”

“Rocket science really isn’t particularly difficult. It’s basically applied physics based on theories from nearly a century ago,” Yang said, a smile materializing on his face.

Apparently, he wasn’t beyond flexing—and the cockiness looked damn good on him.

“Humble,” Daniel said, which got a laugh out of Yang. Daniel got the urge to tell another joke, whatever it took to make Yang laugh again, but he had nothing. His brain was short-circuiting on Yang’s smile—bright and white, like the first ray of sun on a cloudy Amsterdam day.

“Well, I’m not all that smart, so it seems.” Yang’s smile took on a forced edge as he stood. “I should get going. I’m on deadline.”

Now Daniel was back to feeling guilty. “Sorry I took you away from your work.”

“I needed the break. I wasn’t getting anywhere with that stupid Python program anyway,” Yang said, his lips pressed into a line.

“I love stupid Python programs,” Daniel said with a half smile, then he met Yang’s curious eyes. He raised a hand. “Comp sci major. It’s no physics, but I know my way around programming. Stupid Python programs are half the reason why I have a job.”

Had a job? After his work mishap, maybe he should switch to past tense.

“Maybe I should get you to look at my problem,” Yang said with a chuckle.

“Let’s do it!” Daniel nodded a little too eagerly, like someone with something to prove. There were a whole lot of things he couldn’t do, but this was the one thing he could. Then he saw Yang’s raised brows.

Shit, Yang was joking. Of course he was.

“Thanks, but I’ll figure it out,” Yang said with a smile that screamed politeness. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

The street had come alive while Daniel was holed up in that basement bar. It was as if the entire city had collectively decided to come out for an evening stroll. Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as his six-foot-four frame allowed, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s take the pedestrian bridge.” Yang led Daniel to the foot of the bridge, one of several that hovered above the eight-lane road at regular intervals.

“We meet again,” Daniel murmured under his breath as he faced his archnemesis—the stairs. After their day on the Great Wall, Daniel wanted to never again set foot on a set of stairs.

“Did you just talk to the stairs?” Yang looked at him, the corner of his lips curling into that half smile that looked damn good on him. “I would have thought you loved the stairs. Never skip leg day, right?”

Daniel halfheartedly rolled his eyes, but he found himself smiling. For some reason, he didn’t mind Yang’s teasing. Maybe he even liked it just a little.