Page 117 of Our Radiant Embers

Ha—right. The two of us waltzing across a polished marble floor while the most distinguished members of our community watched, glasses of champagne held aloft. At least that’s how I envisioned the scene. My family had never qualified for an invite before, so my mental picture of Summers’ ballroom might be way off.

“More like a club in Soho.” I grinned at him across the table, Adam’s balcony bathed in the dim purple glow of a spectacular sunset that reflected off our water glasses. “One that’s dark enough that no one would recognise us. We could snog on the dance floor and act like we’re a normal couple. Maybe fuck in the backseat of your car after—only this time, you don’t kick me out once we’re done.”

Adam didn’t reply.

“Hey.” I leaned over to touch his wrist, my fingers bumping up against his bracelet. “I’m kidding. You know that, right? I know we can’t.”

“Yeah, no. I know.” He exhaled, shadows in his voice. “It’d be nice, though.”

“It would be,” I said, careful to keep my tone light. The moment I’d given in to this pull between us, I’d accepted the limitations to what we could be. Public displays of affection were not in the cards.

He fell silent once more, and this time, I left him to his thoughts. I’d learned that sometimes, Adam needed to mull things over for a bit before he was ready to share what went on in his head—unsurprising, perhaps, for someone who’d grown up under the heavy weight of sky-high expectations, perfection being one of them.

“If I could,” he started eventually, a low murmur that blended with the incoming city night, “I’d be open about this. About us.”

It was the kind of thing he’d normally put into a note. I wondered if the rising darkness out here on his balcony, our figures fading to silhouettes, boosted his courage.

“I know,” I said softly and thought about asking him what that meant—us. I’d rewritten my rules for him because the only thing at stake was my pride. If he did the same for me, it would set off a domino chain of knock-on effects.

I was in love with him.

But putting it out there and expecting him to return it wasn’t fair. Even if he did, what difference would it make? Fuck, if I had any sense of self-preservation, I’d walk away right now, before I fell any deeper.

“I’m holding you back. It’s not—I don’t…” He shook his head, frustration edging his tone. “That’s not right. I know it’s not.”

Was this…He wasn’t breaking up with me, was he?

“I’m not a victim, Adam.” It came out sharper than I intended, and I softened my tone. “I made a choice. It’s you.”

In the shadows, his lashes were charcoal smudges. “You might eventually come to hate me for it.”

“I couldn’t hate you if I tried.”

A glint of humour warmed his voice. “Could have fooled me.”

In spite of the heaviness in the air, the throwback made me smile a little. “Well, yeah. I disliked you, true. But I didn’t actually know you then, just what you stood for. You’re…” Everything. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Adam ducked his head. “Thank you.”

Laughter bounced up to us—a group passing through the garden square below. I listened to it fade before I set both elbows on the table and studied Adam’s face, veiled by shadows. “Okay,” I began quietly. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“I…” Adam paused and drew a breath. “I’m scared of losing you. But I also know I can’t hold you back forever because it’s not fair.”

Something twisted sharply in my gut, might be the bitter taste of reality. I willed it away and got up, walked around the table so I could pull Adam to his feet and into a kiss. He sank into it like he couldn’t not, and when I drew him down onto the cool tiles with me, he didn’t resist. Our clothes were lost to the night, distant traffic humming in my bones and Adam stretched out under me, his skin gently glowing. I worked my way down his body with my lips and teeth, holding his hips down with one hand as I swallowed his cock, fingers tight around the base. I hoped it would get the message across.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

A nightmare woke me just as dawn crept up.

They’d become much rarer, perhaps a symptom of my magic settling, but this one ripped me awake just like it ripped through the London of my dream. I opened my eyes, pulse hammering in my throat, as Adam roused in my arms.

“What’s wrong?” The words were a blurred mumble, barely intelligible.

“Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

Since he didn’t protest, rolling over to settle on his other side, I assumed he mostly still was. Ten minutes later, I left for a dawn run through streets that were only just waking up and returned to breakfast, coffee, and Adam’s smile, his body still sleep-warm with a pillow crease on one cheek. He was the brightest thing I’d ever seen.

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