Page 19

‘Hey. Belated birthday dinner with some friends tonight. Want to come? Gale and Cassandra will be there, her boyfriend too.’

Adam’s message came in a mere two hours after I’d left his flat. I nearly replied with a teasing ‘Miss me already?’ Something stalled me, though—maybe it was the full stop after his ‘hey’ or something about the rhythm of his words that struck me as slightly off.

‘Should I bring a present?’ I asked instead.

‘You already got me one.’

‘Are your friends the kind of crowd where a no-name leather bracelet counts?’

‘It does to me,’was his simple response, and I decided this was not a battle worth fighting. I wasn’t trying to compete with his friends anyway.

I glanced up from my phone when Laurie and Jack launched into a spirited disagreement about who got to pick the music. Clad in a greasy overall, her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, Laurie pointed out that Jack had been in control of the stereo yesterday. He countered that yes, true, but since his ears were still bleeding from “that godawful K-pop stuff” she’d played on Saturday, he was entitled to pick twice in a row.

“You know how people first dismissed The Beatles because young girls liked them?” she countered.

Jack’s head tilted at a stubborn angle. “BLACKPINK are hardly Beatles contenders.”

”Why?” She leaned forward with a predatory smile. “Because they’re girls?”

He snorted. “Because music quality.”

I tuned them out and sent Adam a, ‘When and where?’

‘7,’ he replied within seconds. ‘Private room at sketch. It’s close to my flat if you want to stay over after.’

Christ, my family would give me so much shit for seeing Adam twice in a day—might as well embrace it and stay the night, too. ‘Will you make it worth my while?’ I finished the question with a wink.

‘Every second,’he wrote back, and, oh. Found my note, had he?

‘I have no doubt.’

A smiley, followed by, ‘Also, I’ve got a couple of books that might interest you.’

Books—on the French magical community? Must be. The idea of creeping closer to an answer buzzed in my fingertips.

‘Is that an invitation to admire your etchings?’ I shot back.

‘More like an all-access pass to an immersive experience.’

I could just imagine him typing those words with a tiny smile tugging at his mouth, and the thought made me smile, too. ‘I’m intrigued.’

‘So you’ll come?’

Like I even still knew how to say no to him.

’Wouldn’t miss it,’ I wrote back, then chose an indie coffeehouse playlist while my siblings were otherwise occupied. Their immediate and vocal protest drowned out the sizzling anticipation that hummed through me, and I gladly sank into an argument about what Jack called artisanal beard oil music while Laurie likened it to a desperate cry for CPR with a banjo.

Some parts of my life hadn’t changed at all.

* * *

“I’m glad you came.”It was a low, sweet murmur in my ear as Adam gave me a hug that ended far too quickly. I stepped back just like I was meant to.

A tiny woman with a huge smile and pink nails took my place, her hands on Adam’s shoulders. He smiled back, every inch the wealthy heir in his well-tailored charcoal blazer and fitted trousers, a button-down shirt with a subtle floral pattern adding a touch of personality. I looked away and found Cassandra watching me from across the room. One of her perfectly plucked eyebrows arched in what I read as an invitation to join her.

Right. I should have expected Adam’s best friend to take a dedicated interest.

Since one did not keep Cassandra Hartley waiting, I ducked around Gale and some quiffed bloke to make my way over. The private room was a tight fit for ten people—Adam and Gale, Cassandra, a dark-haired, dark-eyed guy I presumed to be her secret boyfriend Amit, me, and five other people whose names I had yet to learn. Rich velvet curtains, plush seating, and a red-and-silver theme surrounded us, the carpet an eclectic pattern of yellows and oranges.

“Enjoying a taste of the high-society circus?” was Cassandra’s opening line.

“Oh, it’s a riot.” I adjusted the uncomfortably tight collar of my dress shirt, expensive by my standards yet not by those of everyone else in this room. Through the walls, I sensed steam rising from a pot of boiling water in the restaurant kitchen—I blinked the distraction away. “How’s the masquerade on your end?”

The left side of her mouth hitched up in faint amusement. “Fabulous. I should get an Oscar.”

For a moment, we assessed each other. With her light blonde hair, tastefully subtle make-up, and bespoke jumpsuit, she belonged in a way I didn’t.

“All right, let’s get real.” She rested a friendly hand on my arm, her pleasant expression at odds with the sharp undertone to her words. “You’re not just messing around, are you?”

I gave her my toothiest grin. “Wow.”

A questioning quirk of lips was the extent of her reaction. Some people called her Ice Queen, although never to her face. Based on what Adam had told me, I suspected they were way off.

“I’ve never been on the receiving end of a you-hurt-him-I-hurt-you speech.” My voice was low to ensure that no one could overhear us. “That’s what this is, right?”

“Got it in one.” A hint of respect showed in her eyes. “So?”

“First off, I know you can and will.” I fell silent, briefly catching Adam’s eyes as I accepted a champagne glass from a waiter who made the rounds. “And secondly, no. I am not messing around.”

“Excellent,” she said, elegantly clasping the stem of her own glass. “Keep it that way.”

Hmm.

“What about you?” I asked because hey, fair was fair.

She levelled me with a haughty look. “What about me?”

“From what I understand, you’re running your own cloak-and-dagger operation, aren’t you?” I saw no need to cut my eyes at Amit. “Just wondering how much the status quo benefits you.”

“Honey.” The word dripped with amused irony and just a hint of warning. “Drowning in bridal magazines is not how I see my future. The moment Adam is ready to end this, I will happily take a bow—but it’s his decision. Not mine, certainly not yours.”

“I don’t intend to pressure him.”

“Good.”

We turned as Adam raised his voice to thank us all for coming and raised our glasses with everyone else. His smile lingered as we made eye contact, then he gave an incremental nod at Cassandra, lips hitching up at the corners in something halfway between a question and amusement.

Ha. Thanks, but I could handle myself. I lightly shook my head.

“I believe”—her tone was dry as chalk—“he just offered to rescue you.”

“A true gentleman,” I said with a twitch of a smile.

She clinked her glass against mine as other guests did the same, a chant of “To Adam!” that we echoed. After toasting others in my vicinity, I took a sip and faced Cassandra once more.

“Real talk, though—I don’t need rescuing. I think you and I are on the same page.”

She studied me over the rim of her glass, expression unreadable. “And what page is that?”

“The page where we care about him.” It seemed laughably inadequate to describe the messy tangle that was my emotions. “Even if it means putting ourselves second.”

A moment passed before a genuine smile softened the corners of her eyes and grew from there. It changed her face, made her appear less like the elegant heiress to a family dynasty and more like a normal young woman with dreams and a sense of humour.

“Right answer,” she said, her voice coloured by warmth that had been absent before. “I believe we’ll get along just fine, you and I.”

“I’d like that,” I told her. “Especially since neither of us is going anywhere, and I’m well aware that if it comes down to a choice, it won’t be me.”

Cassandra had known Adam for most of his life. Me? Not so much. Between the two of us, I was the newcomer, my claim on Adam rather tentative when we hadn’t even put a label on things.

‘It’s not casual.’

“That would be a cruel choice,” she said quietly. “And I am not cruel.”

“No,” I said, just as quietly. “I don’t think you are.”

Was there a point when she’d loved him as more than a friend? Maybe I only wondered because I found it hard to imagine knowing Adam without loving him.

Yeah, I was in too deep. And I didn’t want out.

* * *

Right as wewere about to sit down, Adam called me to his side. For the benefit of our audience, he joked that as the newest addition to this group, I required his special attention. It might double as a warning to anyone who considered taking issue with my presence—although barbs about technomancy had vastly decreased since we’d been picked for the Green Horizon Initiative.

As for my sexuality, well. I’d never made a secret of it, and I never would. Nor could, at this point.

Not even for Adam.

I spent dinner next to him. Over the course of the meal, I caught glimpses of shadows in his eyes, brief moments when he went absent and silent. Something had happened. I kept our knees pressed together under the table even as our conversation remained light.

Cassandra faced him, Amit by her side. He turned out to be a quiet guy with calm, intelligent eyes, listening far more than he contributed. When he did speak, though, it was well-considered and eloquent. He seemed capable of keeping up with her.

The tiny, pink-nailed woman ended up on my other side. Her name was Maria, and after a few minutes of stilted small talk, the conversation turned to what we’d studied at uni. Most water mages chose Hydrology or Chemistry while she’d picked Marine Biology and regaled me with enthusiastic tales about diving in the English Channel—zero visibility, strong currents, and shipwrecks crawling with lobsters.

I liked her quite a bit. Certainly more than I liked Caspian Rosier, hailing from a well-known family of earth mages. A frequent collaborator of the Harringtons, he likely would have led the development of the park area in Finsbury if I hadn’t insisted on George. We skirted around interacting directly with each other, yet he occasionally drew my eye because he treated Adam with a strange sort of intensity while failing to murmur so much as a thanks directed at the waiters.

Down, boy. You’re fighting windmills.

The food, of course, was delicious—flaky, buttery feuilletés, a lone onion raviolo with raisins, chablis-poached Scottish salmon, and colourful miniature desserts presented in two services.

Adam picked up the tab. Since no one else protested, I didn’t either. It would have seemed odd, and I wasn’t supposed to draw attention to myself.

It was a mild evening when we left the restaurant. One of the women hailed the first black cab that drove by, kissing Adam’s cheek before she departed, quickly followed by two others sharing a pre-ordered Uber. The rest of us lingered for a moment longer, reviewing the food, before two more people got into a cab while Adam declared he’d be walking the twenty minutes to his flat. “Stretch my legs a bit, you know?”

In the tranquil evening, Cassandra’s laugh pearled like condensation on a frosted glass. “Oh, honey—if this is your attempt to work off the calories, not a chance.”

“Hey.” Adam’s voice was slow and smooth, superficial humour laced with an undercurrent of concern. “The best moments are worth a little indulgence, right?”

It reminded me of the eating disorder he’d mentioned she’d struggled with back in school, how he’d worried she’d fall apart right in front of him. He’d also said that she’d found a healthier balance by trading calorie counting for fitness. That was the kind of shared experience that would be hard to shake, though—just like my memories of when Laurie had started skipping school some five years ago, until we realised some idiot kids in her class were bullies and she their randomly chosen victim.

That sure had stopped once news of the Aqua Reclaimer had made the rounds.

Cassandra’s expression softened. “Yes,” she told Adam, “they are. Thank you for a lovely dinner.”

Her ‘thank you’ was echoed by several of us. “My pleasure,” Adam said and sounded like he meant it.

Into the brief silence that followed, I announced I’d accompany Adam to Piccadilly Circus before jumping on the Tube.

“Public transport?” Caspian’s tone conveyed bewilderment. Spoken like a true Sun, I thought, then realised that I now fell into that category. Minus the entitlement, thank you very much.

“Easily beats London traffic half the time,” I said with a shrug.

“You said you live in East Finchley, right?” Maria asked. “That’s almost on the way for me. If you want me to drop you off, it’s no bother.”

Adam and I exchanged a quick glance, and bloody hell, how did I politely decline without betraying that I didn’t intend to go home? This was…well. It was what I’d signed up for, wasn’t it?

Even if it means hiding.

“Aren’t you meeting some friends after this, Liam?” Amit’s tone was off-handed, like he couldn’t care less. How had he known that I needed saving? Maybe he’d put two and two together—if Amit had an inkling that Adam was gay, and with me out and proud…And Amit and Cassandra covering for us last weekend…

“Way to make the rest of us look old,” Cassandra jumped in. “You’d have to pay me to go clubbing right now.”

“Honestly, we’ll probably just wash up in some pub instead,” I told her, followed by a glance at Amit that hopefully signalled my gratitude. One corner of his mouth lifted by a barely perceptible margin. Kindred spirits, weren’t we?

“Well, have fun with that,” Caspian said flatly. “Some of us have responsibilities and an early start, so…”

Twat.

He was also Adam’s friend, though. But was putting up with the likes of him part of the deal? I didn’t think so.

“Cheers to adulting.” I let my mouth curl into a dismissive curve. “We’ll make sure to keep the laughter down as we toast to your health.”

Caspian’s features tightened, but before he could reply, Adam flashed me a smile. “Maybe I’ll join you for a round. Haven’t been to a proper pub since our presentation to the Prime Minister.”

Well, hey. If that wasn’t going to shut Caspian up, I didn’t know what would. Also, the fact that Adam had just subtly sided with me sent a zing of warmth down my spine.

“You’d be most welcome,” I told him. Maybe my voice had been too low, too soft, because Gale and Cassandra started talking at the same time—Gale announcing that he, for one, would call it a night while Cassandra mentioned how impressed her father had been with how the joint proposal had come together.

Soon after, two more Ubers arrived to collect people. Gale hailed a cab, while Maria and Cassandra headed for where they’d parked their cars.

“Cassandra picking you up?” Adam asked once it was just the two of us and Amit. Ah, so that was why Amit had claimed to have parked elsewhere.

“Yeah.” Amit zipped up a light jacket. “We’re staying in her city flat tonight.”

“How is it that everyone here seems to have a city flat?” I asked no one in particular. “If I want to get away from my family, I need to go for a run.”

Amit chuckled. “Welcome to orbiting around the rich and powerful, mate.”

We studied each other for a second, and yes, all right—he knew. Wistful understanding was tucked into the corners of his eyes.

“Worth it?” I asked quietly.

His response was equally quiet. “If you’re orbiting around the right person—yeah. Absolutely.”

I glanced at Adam and found him watching me with an unhappy tilt to his mouth. You’re worth every second. Could I repeat it here, in front of Amit, or were we still pretending he was oblivious?

Adam made up my mind for me.

He moved closer by half a step and let our hands touch where Amit could see. “I’m sorry.” His voice was the colour of the night. “I know this isn’t fair to either of you.”

“Mate.” Amit’s smile was brief but genuine. “We’re all paying some kind of price, aren’t we?”

“I just wish we didn’t have to.” Adam didn’t offer more and Amit didn’t ask.

We parted with quick hugs, then Amit turned right towards New Bond Street while Adam and I turned left and onto Regent Street. The hustle of the day had subsided, illuminated shop fronts reflecting softly on the pavement.

“I hope that wasn’t too bad?” Adam sounded apprehensive, as though I might change my mind now that I’d had my first real brush with what it meant to be his secret.

“It was fine.” I let our elbows bump. “Anyway, I just came for the food.”

Adam slid me a warm, cautious look. “That’s a lie.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

Passing cars streaked by on the road. A couple of blocks over, a curl of air made a wind chime sing. We walked in silence for a minute, then I turned my head to study Adam’s profile, edged in yellow light against the window of a clothing store. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress trousers.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, keeping my voice low and easy.

He exhaled through his nose. “Had a semi-fight with my father.”

“The usual?”

“What else?”

I rubbed a hand over the nape of my neck and wanted to run it down the length of Adam’s back instead. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Should be used to it, really.” He shook his head, voice dipping down. “I just wish there were some other way, you know?”

“Me too.”

Another minute of silence extended between us. As we neared Piccadilly Circus, the energy around us began to pick up, the vibrant neon signs ahead contrasting with the historic buildings that lined the street.

“Cassandra wasn’t too harsh on you, was she?” Adam asked eventually, and I chuckled.

“I can handle her. In fact, I think we see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

One of Adam’s eyebrows quirked, the rosy hue of an ad washing across his face. “Such as?”

Keep it light.

“Our profound appreciation for dramatic comparisons, for one.”

“Solid grounds for a lasting friendship,” he said.

I nodded. “Indeed.”

As we walked into Piccadilly Square, neon signs bled jewel reflections onto the pavement. People clustered on the steps of the fountain at its centre, the murmur of conversations mixing with an early taste of summer dust in the air.

“Hey,” I said into the distant hum of London’s night-time traffic. “Just in case you were wondering? I meant it. My note, that is. You really are worth it.”

Adam inhaled as though to say something, our gazes catching in the shifting hues of an airline ad that promised the world was ours. Hardly.

“I just hope…” He looked away and shook his head, didn’t finish the thought. Once we turned onto Coventry Street and the neon screens lay behind us, the vibe merged into something more subdued and intimate, restaurants and shop windows lit in gentle warmth.

I was about to prompt him to continue when the back of his hand brushed mine. An accident? I glanced at him, and he sent me a quiet smile in response. Then he loosely hooked our index and middle fingers together, knuckle to knuckle.

Are you sure?

I didn’t ask. Just kept walking by his side, my stupid heart thrumming behind my sternum as though the impossible had suddenly become an option.

* * *

The front deskin the lobby of Adam’s building was deserted, just us and the hush of nightly shadows. We still stuck to our own sides of the lift but came together as soon as we were safe in his flat.

Deja vu. The beginnings of a pattern that I’d signed up for the moment we’d crossed the line.

His fingers rucked up the back of my dress shirt, mine tracing the bumps of his spine before I flattened a palm between his shoulder blades. Our kisses were soft, the afternoon’s urgency absent. Sweet tiredness clung to the ends of my lashes. Our motions slowly tapered out until we were simply breathing together—so very tired even as my brain grasped at these radiant moments to line them up like a string of pearls.

With my forehead tipped against Adam’s temple, I closed my eyes.

He wound an arm around the small of my back. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” My words dripped slow like summer rain. “Just a bit exhausted. Like, still getting used to it, you know? My magic behaving like a hyperactive child, like it’s trying to show me all these random things and expects me to care. I know it’s far off what you can do, but...”

“It’s new.” Adam pressed his nose into my hair. “And it’s all four elements. Which…My father mentioned how—it was a generic conversation, okay? Nothing about you, just about this French family we almost formed an alliance with. Anyway, he said that four elements is normal for a small subset of the French community that draws power from the ley lines.”

“Ley lines?” I echoed. While the topic had come up in school, it had been cited as an example of folklore. Mostly, I remembered them as something like an electrical grid that connected ancient, mystical hotspots in a magical circuit. My thoughts were getting tangled up in my head, though, chasing their own tails like puppies. Something nagged at me—ley lines, connections, landmarks. I couldn’t bring it into focus.

“Can we...” I drew a deep breath, tinged with the faintest trace of Adam’s cologne that mixed with lingering dinner scents—warm comfort that soothed the hectic buzz in my mind. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? The books you mentioned, too.”

“Of course.” Adam’s arm tightened before he loosened his hold and gently nudged me backwards, towards the bathroom. “C’mon, move. Let’s brush our teeth and get some sleep.”

I love you, you know?

The thought spiralled out behind my chest like a stone plunged into water, concentric circles cascading outwards. I kept my eyes closed against the glare of gentle lamplight.

“What are you—five?” Adam sounded sweetly amused, unaware of the rainbow ashes floating through the space behind my lids. “Up and at ‘em, babe. Still got your toothbrush here from last time, so no excuses.”

Last time. The last time I’d stayed over was after I’d seen Adam reduce an entire block of flats to smoke and dust. I was smoke and dust.

“Liam?”

Stop. Breathe. Focus.

I did.

“Yeah, sorry.” I opened my eyes, something about his smile shimmering in the empty space behind my ribs. It’d be fine. “You kept my toothbrush?”

“‘Course I did.”

“Oh.” I nodded, inhaled. “Thank you.”

Adam’s palm skimmed along the outside of my arm. “What for?”

I paused to consider my response. “Making me feel...” Like I belong. “Welcome.”

“You are,” he said simply.

I needed to stop tripping headfirst into a puddle of my own emotions. So I reached for a smile, tiredness pulling on the edges of my vision, distantly aware that two floors down, the lit tip of a cigarette flared red in my mind with each drag. It was getting just a little easier to ignore.

“Good.” I strove for a light tone, humour to chase off the last dregs of heaviness swimming in my blood. “As we established, your bed is much more comfortable than mine. I may just move in.”

“I’d let you.” It was low and serious, a stark contrast to my lightly teasing statement. The dim lamplight turned Adam’s eyes a warm shade of amber, and it felt like my rib cage was coming apart, tiredness and wispy longing clinging to the tips of my lashes.

I leaned in for a brief, achingly gentle kiss and stopped thinking.

* * *

That—oh.

Oh.

Christ, what a smell. What a sight.

I managed to sit upright, duvet pooling around my waist, and made grabby hands for the coffee Adam held out for me. Sleep still pulled at my body, the sunny brightness of the morning not quite computing.

First sip. So good. So fucking good. Adam watched me with faint amusement curling the corners of his mouth, perched at the foot of his bed with his own cup. He looked far more awake than I felt, already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that accentuated his biceps. Delicious.

“Fuck.” I took another perfect sip, smooth and creamy. “I think I love you.”

Adam’s face went still as my thoughts screeched to a halt. It had been a joke, of course. But also…not. My capacity to form words was still trapped in a sleepy daze, grappling for purchase.

Then Adam gave a raspy chuckle. “Wow. Maybe I should consider a career as a barista if it gets me this kind of reaction.”

“Ah, no.” I shook my head and dragged up a smile along with my ability to think. “Pretty sure the average customer is too ruined by Starbucks and Costa to recognise amazing coffee even if it offered a lap dance.”

“Have a little faith in humanity,” Adam said.

“Well, hey. As we already established, you actually like people. Me, less so.” I used a finger to scoop up some milk foam, licked it off, and caught it when Adam’s gaze dipped to my mouth. It made my lips tug up into a grin, the knot in my chest unravelling slowly. Back on safer ground.

“See something you like?” I asked quietly.

His attention drifted from my face to my bare chest and back up. “Very much so.”

I was about to invite him closer, morning breath be damned—only for a jaw-cracking yawn to get in the way of my best-laid plans.

Adam’s chuckle crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You know, I don’t remember this ever happening in porn.”

“Because it’s professionals selling a fantasy instead of real people in all their unshaven glory?” I suppressed yet another yawn.

“That might be it.” Adam sipped from his own coffee, smiling at me over the rim of his cup. “Seriously, though—feel any better this morning?”

I considered it. Magic still buzzed under my skin, but it was less of a distraction and more a comfortable hum by now. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told me it was close to nine—much later than I usually slept. My mind was free of the shadows that often lingered after a nightmare.

“I do, yeah. Quite a bit, actually.” Careful not to spill my coffee, I shifted into a cross-legged seat, still naked under the covers. “What time did you get up?”

“About an hour ago.”

“You could have woken me.”

Adam shook his head. ”Nah, it seemed like you could use a good rest. Also gave me a chance to pop to the shop and get some stuff for breakfast.”

“You didn’t try your hand at anything more complicated than toast, did you?” I grinned, my brain finally stuttering into proper working mode. “You haven’t been cleared yet for unsupervised breakfast preparation.”

“And I suppose you’re just the guy to certify me?” A twitch of humour around Adam’s mouth belied his dry tone.

I gave a sage nod. “That’s right. For the record, a blowjob might speed up the process.“

“Quite the bargain.”

“The Morgan family is known for reasonable conditions and ambitious timelines,” I stated with the smarmy air of an ad narrator. Adam’s laugh glowed like the sunlight that tangled in the bedsheets.

“And as a true Harrington, I know an excellent offer when I see it.” His mouth softened. “Okay, but here’s an actual thought—you take care of breakfast, and I start looking through the first book for anything that could hint at your great-grandfather. Unless I’m wrong in thinking that you’re not too keen on doing it yourself?”

The question pulled me up short. He wasn’t wrong, must have read the reluctance I hadn’t even been aware of until he pointed it out. Yes, I’d been tired last night—but I’d pushed through worse when truly motivated.

“I want answers. It’s just…” I hesitated. “After what Nan Jean told us, I guess I’m also a little wary of what they might be.”

“I get that.” Adam’s eyes were warm and steady. “But it’s just us, for now. If you don’t like what we find, it won’t ever have to leave this room.”

Just us.

“One more secret?” I aimed for a lighter tone that Adam didn’t mirror, his voice serious.

“Yes. But it’d be me protecting you, for a change.”

I frowned, somehow thrown. It made sense, didn’t it? Yeah, it did. But…

“If things with you and Cassandra don’t work out the way your families expect…” I pressed my lips together, staring at Adam for a beat. “Alaric Hartley might lose interest in the Green Horizon Initiative, right? Even torpedo it?”

“I don’t think he’d go that far.” Adam sounded unconvinced by his own claim, and yeah, well—Hartley hadn’t risen to the top by being lenient with people who slighted him. Then again, he’d pushed for the Initiative, so maybe he’d be more subtle about it, would try to get Adam and his family off the job.

I couldn’t do it alone.

“You’ve thought about this already.” I swallowed another mouthful of coffee that suddenly tasted bland. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m not exactly looking for more reasons why things between us are...” Adam fell quiet, gaze sliding away.

Impossible.

“Complicated,” I said.

“Complicated,” he agreed.

Neither of us spoke for several seconds. I wanted to reach out and trace the line of his jaw, wanted to hold on to him while I could.

I didn’t move.

It was Adam who ended the silence. “Breakfast?” he asked softly, with a quirk to his mouth that almost passed for a smile. Ignoring the tap-dancing elephant in the room didn’t solve anything, was only delaying the inevitable—but I’d take all the time I could get.

“I’ll handle it,” I told him, “if you’re up for taking a first look at those books.”

His features relaxed just slightly. “Deal.”

“Hey.” I leaned forward to touch his shoulder, my voice far more steady than I felt. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

He watched me for a beat that thrummed in my fingertips, then he covered my hand with his own and nodded. “Yeah. We will.”

Would we? When I cared too much and he was only half mine? Maybe it was safer this way—tucked out of sight, stolen touches in the dark. Maybe this was as far as we could go before anyone got hurt.

I shoved my doubts into a dark, dusty corner of my mind and drew him in for a kiss. He folded into me as though it was the most natural thing in the world.