Page 44 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

He laughs as we run to the door through what can now be called a small blizzard, and the sound of it seems to ride through the air on the twirling wind, wrapping me in a kind of joy that I thought had abandoned me forever. It’s pleasure and breathless excitement and hope. He’s carefree and alive…alive in a way I’d forgotten could exist.

I’ve drawn the blinds on all the windows between the waiting area and the shop’s work bay. It’s something I do on occasion when I’m working late and I want privacy from the rest of the world. If anyone happens to be out in the storm and passes by, they won’t think anything of it. I lead Namid straight to the bay door; I don’t want both of our coats hanging in the waiting room tonight, and I doubt he does either. When I hold the door open and he steps through in front of me, I follow close behind, only to nearly crash into his back. He’s stopped just inside the door.

I settle my hand lightly on his hip and step us forward so that the door can close behind us. He hasn’t moved, and I’m starting to panic. Is it too much? Is it stupid? As I look over his shoulder into the bay, everything is, of course, right where I left it. We’re the only two with keys, after all. I’ve spread several thick blankets on the floor and sprinkled LED candles around them. In the center is a large charcuterie board loaded with grapes and figs and meats and cheeses - including the one he’d called his favorite as he put it into my basket on the day he’d helped me shop. A bottle of champagne sits chilling with two glasses just off to the side. Is it too high school? Too cliché? This may possibly be the worst decision I’ve ever made.

“Is it okay?”

“Is it okay?” His voice breaks.

Before I even realize what’s happening, he spins in my arms, and his hands are on my jaw, his forehead pressed to mine. His cheeks are wet, but his eyes are sparkling and smiling only inches from mine.

“Is it okay…” He laughs.

His thumbs drag across my cheekbones on the smooth skin just at the top of my beard, and his lips pepper across mine over and over as he whispers.

“It’s the most…amazing thing…I’ve ever seen. It’s perfect.”

My hands grip his ribs, and I grin so wide that I’m afraid my cheeks might split open.

“Not quite yet, it’s not. There’s one more thing.”

Even though I don’t ever want his lips or eyes or hands or body further away from me than they are in this moment, I haven’t shown him the best part. The romantic picnic is something anyone taking him on a date might offer; the rest of my surprise can only come from me.

Still clinging together, I walk us back a few steps and then pull away, throwing my arms to the side and extending aggressive jazz hands in the direction of the floor.

“Ta-da!”

He laughs. He laughs so loud and brilliantly that it echoes around the bay as he throws his arms around me and squeezes me within an inch of my life before stepping away and lowering himself onto one of the two under-car creeper rollers I have sitting side by side, straddling it and sinking down onto his ass the same way he’d climbed onto my lap this morning.

“I told you that one day you’d let me play with it!”

I can’t feel him the way he can feel me. I don’t need to. I’ve never seen anyone look so innocent and carefree and ecstatic in my life. It’s contagious. Everything about him is beautiful and light and perfect, and all I want to do is make him smile and laugh…and kick his ass in a race. I drop myself down onto the vacant roller at his side and offer the most serious and threatening look I can manage while my heart is joyfully exploding.

“You ready to race?”

“Ohhhh, it’s on. Five. Four.” We both shift to sit cross-legged with our hands on the floor. “Three. One!”

Wait.

One?! He’s laughing as he takes off, his long fingers pressing against the cold concrete floor as he zips away from me with his stolen head start.

Namid

I don’t normally believe in cheating, but Jayce is a couple of inches taller than me, so his arms are probably longer than mine and definitely more muscular. Plus, it really just sounded like fun to tease him.

I can hear him behind me; he’s gaining ground already as we speed across the shop. I’ve never heard him laugh quite like this, never felt him this jubilant. I’ve never felt this way myself either. Light and weightless and elated, as if every moment is somehow more enjoyable than the last.

There is movement out of the corner of my eye, and then he’s beside me, grinning over at me with a smile so wide and bright and happy it seems to light up the room. My first instinct is to push harder, propel myself forward faster. It turns out I’m far more competitive than I thought I was, and I fully intend to win this race. Then his eyes change; their bubbly sparkle is replaced by something that looks almost mischievous, a slight wrinkle appears on his forehead, and his lips curl up into a smirk. I don’t have time to process the shift before he launches himself in my direction, wrapping his arms around me with a growl as he tackles me. He curls his body around mine, nearly crushing me in his arms, flipping us around as we fall so that we skid across the cold concrete using his back as a sled. When we stop a few feet away from the rollers, we’re both breathless with laughter. Unflattering gasps and snorts escape us both as we cling to each other.

“Cheater.” I nip at the thin line of exposed neck skin between his beard and the collar of his flannel.

“If you’re unhappy with the results, you can always request a rematch.”

“So you can tackle me again when you realize you’re going to lose?” I scoff.

“There was some dust on the floor; you were going to hit it and crash. I was saving you.”

“Ohhhh. Well, thank you for saving me then.” I brush my nose across his jaw. “Can I request a rematch even if I’m happy with the results?”

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