Page 97 of Our Radiant Embers

George was all too happy to launch into a tale about a woman who’d thought that their lunch date meant she could also order a round of takeaway sushi for dinner, on his tab. He’d fired the matchmaker after that and had instead reached out to a woman who’d been a year above and out of his league in school.

“She’s interesting,” he said. “Like, she has opinions on the revival of heirloom plant varieties, and we discussed historical gardening styles.” His nose wrinkled. “Although she has this weird fondness for Japanese Zen gardens—which, no.”

Heirloom plants and Japanese Zen gardens? Not my idea of a thrilling date, but to each their own.

“You’re such a nerd, mate,” Liam told George. It was laced with open fondness, and for some reason, it weighed heavy in my stomach. Not jealousy, not quite—I’d never detected anything more than friendship between them.

Liam and I, though? We weren’t friends. Or…we were, but not primarily. I’d wanted him before I’d liked him, the physical pull an inextricable part of our connection. If he moved on—when he did, dissatisfied with everything I couldn’t offer…Fuck, it would hurt to be his friend.

But it was better than nothing.

Liam and George had segued into debating the merits of dating someone who kept you on your intellectual toes. “If you think she’s the kind of person who won’t bore you even twenty years from now?” Liam’s smile turned out crooked. “That’s who you want to hold onto, isn’t it?”

“I don’t get bored half as easily as you do,” George stated, only to shoot me a quick look. “Present company obviously excluded.”

Liam glanced at me just as I glanced at him. I looked away first.

‘I wouldn’t get bored with you.’ It was what he’d told me at the beach house, wasn’t it? A faint echo of his words was lodged behind my ribs like an impossible promise.

“Well.” I cleared my throat and shot Liam a weak grin. “Fair warning—if you’re looking for stellar insights into heirloom plants, you’ve come to the wrong person.” Acknowledging our…thing, our whatever-this-was, in front of Liam’s friend felt different from hinting at it with Gale. More daring somehow, closer to something that was real and tangible.

“Liam and plants?” George snorted, friendly exasperation in his tone. “He’s got the kind of brown thumb that may kill a cactus if he looks at it the wrong way.”

Not with the kind of magic now coursing through him. I held my tongue, not sure how much Liam had already shared.

“Thanks, mate,” Liam said dryly. “I can always count on you to make me look good.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“Thought you were here to do a job.”

George pursed his mouth, a grin tucked into the corners of his eyes. “I’m a multi-tasker.”

“With a PhD in bullshit?” Liam asked.

“Nah, that’s more of a personal hobby.”

I suspected they could go on all day if left to their own devices. Much like a spectator at a tennis match, I made an exaggerated show of watching their banter bounce back and forth until the arrival of the site manager cut things short. After a brief exchange on how George and his people would work with the rest of the crew in charge of the cafe and energy concept, Liam and I left them to it.

The Covent Garden site was in full swing by the time we arrived, earth mages reshaping the terrain. Originally, J. Brown had been meant to lead here. The new contractor was less experienced with large-scale projects and seemed both motivated and subtly daunted, in particular by the untested technomancy elements. While I was confident they’d grow into the task, I made a mental note to drop by a tad more than I usually would.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Liam asked as we left the site and our cars behind, my flat just a few minutes away on foot.

I took half a second to study his profile. He was stunning. Perhaps not classically beautiful, the cut of his nose a hint too stubborn to tick the box, but God, he stole my breath. “Yeah,” I said then. “It is.”

Something about my tone might have tipped him off because he glanced over and smiled, slow and quiet. Surrounded by tourists and locals, it felt safe to let our elbows bump, so I did.

Liam’s focus dropped to my mouth. His voice blended in with the shadows cast by high-rising buildings. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

Heat rose to the back of my neck. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from reaching for him, crowds be damned. “Me too,” I managed.

We didn’t talk much as we walked the rest of the way, gazes tangling every so often. The interior of my building welcomed us with cool shade, and I stopped to exchange a few bites of small talk with the doorman while Liam hung back, hands in his pockets. He followed me towards the lift.

I entered first, waited for the doors to slide shut behind us—and was about to erase the gap between us when Liam shook his head. His gaze darted up, and fuck, right, camera. I dipped my chin as Liam crossed his arms and leaned back against the mirrored wall. Silence stretched like a brittle rubber band.

Yet here we are.

We exited into the top-floor hallway. I unlocked the door and held it for Liam, followed him inside. For a beat, my heart twisted in my throat, unsure. Then Liam reached for me and we crashed together, my fingers fisting in his T-shirt, his hands flat on my back to bring me closer. Our mouths slid together.

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