Page 4 of Doors & Windows (Liam & Jonah’s Story)

Liam

There was very little practicality in commuting from Manhattan to Queens to pick Jonah up for a date in Brooklyn. Even more so because Liam didn’t have a car anymore, so “picking up” really just meant “riding beside him on the same train he would have taken anyway.”

But Liam wasn’t going for practical .

Jonah Prince was worth far more than a consideration for logistics.

This night, this endeavor of pursuing him as something real, was about making Jonah see just how much better he deserved from the people who claimed to love him.

He deserved the whole experience: the flowers, the chivalry, and the determination of a man who would do anything to prove himself worthy.

And, if Liam was being generous with himself—which he tried to do with more frequency these days—maybe he deserved something like that too.

His short-sleeve shirt was too thin to be technically considered sweater material, but it was just thick enough to make him rethink his choices.

Sweat trickled down his spine by the time he made it to the front porch of the house in Forest Hills, making the shirt cling damply to his lower back.

He pinched the collar and tugged at it a few times, hoping to generate some airflow as he walked up the brick sidewalk.

The house, along with the rest of the neighborhood, was even nicer than Jonah had described, all dark red brick and Tudor-style gables and vintage charm.

Part of Liam was loath to admit how much he liked it, because it meant paying a compliment to the man who owned it.

But Liam was good about keeping those particular opinions to himself.

The bouquet of flowers crinkled under his palm as he switched hands to knock on the door.

He switched hands a few more times as he waited, suddenly self-conscious of the impressions his nervous fingers would crush into the wrapping.

The longer he waited, the more reasons he conjured to be nervous (as if he were lacking for options).

Did Jonah even like flowers? Did he happen to be allergic to the exact type that Liam picked out? Was this too much? Was Liam too much?

The door opened, and Liam straightened his back.

Jonah stood in the entryway, looking like a dream in all black: a short-sleeved button-up cuffed at the arms paired with ripped denim.

Liam thrust the flowers toward him before he could do something stupid like surge forward and kiss him right there on the doorstep.

Jonah’s gaze moved from the bouquet to his face, then back again. “You got me flowers?” he said in lieu of a greeting.

It was harder to feel self-conscious about the gesture when he sounded so awed.

“There was a shop just off the train. I couldn’t resist. ”

Jonah took the bouquet, handling it like something fragile, and brought it just under his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up at Liam through the petals. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem” felt like too casual a response, and “I would literally die for you” fell somewhere on the other extreme end of the spectrum, so Liam let a smile do the talking instead.

“I should probably put these in water before we go?” Jonah said, considering the flowers like he didn’t know the protocol. He stepped back against the open door and gestured inside. “Want to come in for a minute?”

“Oh.” Liam glanced past Jonah, into the wood-paneled hallway behind him. It looked like the inside of a haunted mansion in a scary movie, which only made Liam, begrudgingly, like it more. “Yeah. Sure.”

Liam found himself looking in both directions as Jonah led him out of the hallway and into a large kitchen off the main room.

“He’s out of town,” Jonah said. When Liam’s eyes snapped to him, he was met with a knowing smile.

He probably should have been embarrassed at his own transparency, but his posture relaxed at the confirmation that they were on their own. Even if Liam was good about keeping his less-than-complimentary thoughts about Antonio Ellis to himself, Jonah wasn’t entirely oblivious to his distrust.

“Wow. A house to yourself, huh?” Liam didn’t catch the possible interpretations of that until it already left his mouth, so he scrambled to keep talking. “You were right about it being fancy. Very old school. Feels like there’s a ghost named Clarence living in the walls or something.”

Jonah reached into an espresso-dark cabinet to retrieve a glass. “How did you know?” he deadpanned over his shoulder. “I’d introduce you, but he actually can’t come in direct contact with sunlight. Maybe another time.”

Liam leaned back against the marble countertop. “I think you’re thinking of vampires?” He glanced around at the dark, moody furnishings. “Which, honestly, kind of fits the vibe, too.”

“Right, my mistake.” He could make out the curve of a smile from the side of Jonah’s face as he worked, unwrapping the paper from the bouquet. “Clarence is the vampire in the attic. Edwin is the ghost in the walls.”

“I’d read that book,” Liam said. “Sounds very gay.”

“You wouldn’t believe the complicated history between these two.”

“I can feel it in the air.” Liam waved a hand in front of him. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

Jonah brought the glass of water and the bouquet to the counter next to Liam—the closest spot to the window—and meticulously arranged the flowers so there were no uneven gaps. When he was happy with it, he nudged the makeshift vase back from the edge of the counter and turned his attention to Liam.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” he quietly admitted.

I want to give you the world, Liam thought. I want to give you back every soft moment that was stolen from you .

“Well.” He clapped his hands together, determined not to choke up before this date could even begin. “Shall we give Clarence and Edwin some privacy?”

Brooklyn Bridge Park was Liam’s favorite place in the city.

Once, during Liam’s senior year of high school, he’d come to the city with his Advanced Art class on a school trip.

They’d spent the afternoon at a pop-up exhibit in DUMBO, and after, the class had been allowed to disperse in small groups to explore the neighborhood.

In a rare moment of rebellion, after being imposed as a third wheel on a pair of his classmates, Liam had broken off on his own.

He would never forget the moment he’d cleared the last of the renovated warehouses and stepped into the park.

Right on the rocky shore of the East River, the Manhattan skyline opened up around him, bracketed by two towering bridges that stretched between the islands.

It was the kind of vast beauty that made everything in his mind and body stand still.

There was something serendipitous, something inevitable about that moment; somewhere in time, pieces shifted into the shape of a promise.

A prophecy. The enormity of the city seemed to embrace Liam where he stood, rather than swallowing him up.

One day, it whispered to him, you’ll be here to stay.

It had been easy to sell Jonah on the location for their date. “I’m looking forward to seeing the city through your eyes,” he’d told Liam, apparently oblivious to the effect of a statement like that dropped in casual conversation.

Liam couldn’t help but watch Jonah’s expression now as they stepped onto that same grassy knoll, paying him the same reverence he had once paid to the skyline.

Jonah’s brow lifted, his lips parting just slightly.

The perfectly clear sky and the silver, glassy monoliths across the river sparkled in his eyes.

“What do you think?” Liam asked, hanging on every twitch of his reaction. “Amazing, right?”

He was so busy watching Jonah’s face that the brush of contact at his hand surprised him. Without hesitation, he spread his fingers and let Jonah push his through, reveling in the terrain of calluses on his palm.

“Yeah,” Jonah agreed. “You did good.”

Liam wanted to frame this moment behind glass.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Jonah squeezed his hand. “Lead the way.”

That morning, Liam had rolled up an old, faded blanket and stuffed it into a tote bag.

He spread it out flat now, at the highest part of the hill, enlisting Jonah’s help as the breeze off the river tried to fold it over on itself.

They kicked off their shoes to use as weights at the four corners and settled down to unpackage their dinner.

They had decided on takeout from the food hall just behind the park, so they could each choose an item from a different spot and split the spoils down the middle.

Jonah insisted on paying for both meals, and Liam didn’t argue.

He could tell how much it meant to him to finally have the means to return the favor of a purchased meal .

And, as Liam wryly pointed out, Jonah was the only one with a job these days.

They pulled their food from the paper bag and spread the feast between them.

“This might be a first as far as food pairings go,” Liam said, eyes scanning from the rainbow roll to the carton of chocolate covered strawberries.

“This is a first for me in general,” Jonah said, pointing to Liam’s chosen dish.

Liam’s mouth popped open. “Wait, what? You’ve never had sushi ? Like, ever?”

“My family wasn’t known for their worldliness.” His self-deprecating smile just barely took the edge off the casual mention of his family—a subject he rarely brought up since leaving them behind in the house that nearly suffocated him. Liam didn’t let himself linger on it.

“We must rectify this immediately,” he said seriously, ripping the paper packaging off a pair of chopsticks and handing them over.