Page 40 of The Night

“Yeah? To do what?”

Gideon snorted. “I have no fucking idea.” He shook his head once, like he was darkly amused, possibly at himself. “I just… can’t… see you unhappy.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s one of those weird things. An instinctive reaction I can’t turn off, even though I want to. If Icanhelp you, I will.”

I stared at him. No one in my life had ever said something like that to me, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Those people in there”— I pointed over my shoulder—“are trying to get us together and we… I… I can’t let it happen again, Gideon.”

“Then don’t. You’re not a kid, Liam, and no one is forcing your hand. I’m not, and I won’t let anyone else either. You get me?”

I sighed. “You think I’m being stupid, don’t you?”

“Stupid? Never. You’re reacting very normally for a person who’s never lived in the Narnia that is O’Leary, New York. But I’ve lived here a few years now. I know these folks are good people. They’recrazy, and they’ll tell you they’ve got snakes in their heating ducts because they wanna play matchmaker, but they’re basically good folks. And while their motives were flat-out wacky in this case, the help they’re offering is what they’d offer anyone in this town who needed it. So you can take it, or you can leave it. It’s your choice. And either way, we’ll make the best of it.”

Gideon’s breath was a sweet rush over my skin, and his fingers on my neck were magic.

“It’s okay that you don’t trust them. I get it,” Gideon said. “But youcantrustme, Liam. And I’m telling you, it’s gonna be okay.”

Damn, I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe it so much, I stepped away.

“Hey, if this whole firefighting thing doesn’t work out, massage school might be a good option for you. Thanks for that.”

Gideon stared at the hand that had been touching me like he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from. Then he closed it into a fist and stuck the fist into his pocket.

He cleared his throat. “You ready to come finish your breakfast?”

I forced a smile. “Yes. I think I might be ready to scale the mountains of frosting now.” I stepped toward the door.

Gideon grabbed my elbow. He looked… hesitant. Like he was struggling with how to say something. “Look, if you really need to get home, I’m sure there’s some way I can get my part done, and you can get your part done yourself. Or I could see if I could take a day off sooner than later. Or—”

I thought about it, a little bit overwhelmed that Gideon reallywascommitted to giving me as many choices as possible, but I shook my head. “Not positive, but I’m pretty sure we need to sign the forms together. That’s part of why I came instead of just mailing them. And I don’t want to make you take time off.” I sighed. “It can wait another day or two.”

“It’s been five years already, right?” He shot me a sardonic glance that made my stomach tighten with want and held out a hand to lead me back inside. “We can wait and tackle it together?”

I’d told myself a bunch of lies over the years—that Gideon’s eyes hadn’t been that golden, that his handshadn’tbeen that large and capable, that the connection I’d imagined had been lust or jet lag or temporary insanity, that he hadn’t been thatkind—and I’d nearly managed to convince myself that they were true.

But honestly? Gideonwasthat great. Wehadbeen that connected. And now we weren’t. And while I stood behind my decision then and now… it really fucking sucked.

I hadn’t just been in love with Gideon Mason, Ilikedhim too.

I still did.

“Together,” I agreed, taking his hand. Until we weren’t anymore.

Chapter Eight

Liam

“That good?”Everett asked, stepping back from a tall spotlight he’d requisitioned from his grandfather’s hardware store, and brushing his curly black hair out of his eyes.

Somehow, in less than forty minutes, the two of us had managed to push the old office furniture to either side of the brightly lit space, cover the slightly dingy walls and neutral industrial carpet with a wintery backdrop Everett had painted, and even set up folding chairs so that my “clients” could wait their turn.

It was the closest thing to a Christmas miracle I was likely to experience.

I looked through the lens of my camera at the backdrop and gave Ev a thumbs up. “I might need to adjust as I lose the natural light later, but I think that’s as good as we’re gonna get for right now?” I shot him a grateful glance. “Thanks so much for taking the time off school to help me with this, leaving all those young minds without an art teacher.”

Everett chuckled. “Fridays are light for me. I don’t have to teach another class until noon. And besides, photography’s always fascinated me.”

I nodded and toed at a box of decorative props—a jumble of giant plush candy canes, wooden gingerbread men, and enormous gilt stars—that some woman I’d never met had dropped off with a friendly wink. “You paint, right?”