Page 80 of Our Radiant Embers

“What is your type, then?” As soon as I asked, I knew I’d stepped right into a trap. Adam tilted his head with a smile that was so cheesy it deserved to be served on a platter.

“Three guesses,” he said. “And the first two don’t count.”

I wasn’t the type to blush, thank God, and aimed for an unimpressed tone of voice even as I fought an answering smile. “Other than me.”

“But baby, you’re all I see.”

I fixed him with a patient look and waited, a strange blend of amusement and longing tugging me in two different directions. If only I didn’t like him so fucking much. Whereas for him…Christ. Was I just his default choice, prompted by lack of alternatives? It didn’t feel like it.

“Oh, fine.” With a tiny sigh, he dropped the Casanova act and pursed his mouth in thought. “You know, I’m honestly not sure.”

“Well, let’s hear your celebrity crushes.”

He snorted. “I kind of outgrew those a couple of decades ago. See Westley from The Princess Bride.”

“Please, you must have entertained some teenage crushes.” This was safer, less personal ground. I grinned at him over my wine glass. “Some singer? An actor? I was partial to One Direction for a while there.”

“Really?” He looked at me as though his entire perception of me had just shifted sideways. “I thought you’d be way too cool for a boy band.”

It tickled a laugh out of me. “I was seventeen, mostly in the closet, and they were cute as hell. Honestly, Harry Styles can still get it. Now—I gave you my embarrassing teenage crush, so it’s your turn now.”

Slowly, one corner of Adam’s mouth hitched up. “Do porn actors count?”

Oh, I was going to regret this. So much. But…“Your teenage crush?”

“Nineteen is still a teenager.” The other corner of Adam’s mouth lifted, a touch of self-deprecation in his eyes. “I was very firmly in the closet, frustrated, and in need of an outlet. Don’t judge.”

“I’m not.” I took a sip of wine as I studied him—his classically handsome features and the sparks of evening sunlight tangled in his dark hair. It would be so much easier if he was merely gorgeous, if the attraction went only skin-deep.

“Well. Now that I think about it, there was one, uh…actor. Let’s say I was rather partial to him.” Adam’s voice gained a playful lilt. “Tall, messy brown hair, great smile. So perhaps I do have a type after all.”

Bloody hell.

“So you were crushing on some porn fantasy right as I was crushing on you?” I asked, then paused. “To be fair, I was tall and brown-haired at the time, yeah. Not so sure about the great smile given I was pretty much a bundle of insecurities back in school.”

Adam leaned back with a small frown, voice low. “Weren’t we all.”

“You hid it well,” I told him. “Always seemed like you owned any room you walked into.”

“I’m a good actor.” He said it without pride—just stating a fact. “Maybe there’s my alternate career path.”

“I’d watch whatever you’re in.” True if a tad too honest, so I continued quickly. “But really, what would you be?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you weren’t who you are.”

“Oh.” A slow blink. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it, I guess.”

And that, right there, might be the downside of being born a Nova—your future wasn’t up for discussion. You served your family, seeking to elevate their status by whatever means necessary and legal. Or at least tolerated.

“I’d be an engineer,” I said. “Climate tech, maybe?”

“Now there’s a surprise.” His tone implied the opposite, and he tagged a smile onto the words before turning serious. “I’d be…I’d like to work with people. All sorts of people. Like…refugees and politicians and entrepreneurs. Maybe lead a non-profit. Work for something I actually believe in rather than just furthering my family’s power and making more money than we could possibly need.”

I’m half in love with you.

I sat with the thought for a beat, then let it go. “Yeah, I could see that. You’d be great at it.”

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