Page 60 of Snow Storm

Claude ran a hand up Harley’s spine. “I agree with her, mon âme.”

Harley nodded, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist forever. For now though, it was easy to pretend.

“And don’t hate me for saying this, but your agent sucks, and it doesn’t seem like you have a social media manager, which means your socials have just been sitting silently since everything went down. People are rooting for you, babe. Like, big-time. If they see you not only happy but with someone who looks at you the way Claude does? They’re going to die. But, like, in agoodway.”

Harley didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t really thought about it. Wes hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t even checked in with Harley to see how he was doing. It had been a bubble of quiet silence now peppered with Claude’s warm hands and impossibly lush kisses.

So why rock the boat?

“You have to go back to the real world eventually, and with how many are rooting for you, it might be nice to show all those fucks that you haven’t been ruined,” Lyric finished.

She had a point. Maybe a bad one, maybe a good one. He had no idea. Social media had never been his forte. It was one of those things he used only every now and again for this reason exactly: he had no idea what was going to fuck his whole world up.

But he didn’t think Lyric was trying to steer him wrong.

“What do I even say?”

“Just tell everyone you’re having a lovely holiday with someone special, and you hope they’re all having one as perfect as yours,” she said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll take the photo. I have a great eye.”

“She really does,” Aminah admitted.

Harley tipped his head back and looked at Claude. “People might figure out who you are.”

“Let them. It’s not like you’re Tammy Switt or whatever her name is,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

Harley glanced at Lyric, and they both burst into laughter. “Fair enough. I don’t have a private jet, and no one has ever stalked me.” And it would feel good to know that Darren had seen him happy and know that his life had somehow gotten even better. He took a slow breath, then let it out. “I’m in.”

“Amazing,” Lyric said. “Okay. Let me fix you. Hang on.”

After a full five minutes of being arranged and rearranged, Lyric was finally happy. Claude was spooned up behind Harley, their backs propped against the arm of the sofa with the fire and part of the Christmas tree in the backdrop.

“I want you to look at each other,” Lyric said.

Harley and Claude both obeyed, and Harley was instantly lost in the man’s dark eyes. God, he was so beautiful. It was far too soon for this feeling in his chest, but it didn’t matter. It was real. There was no denying it.

He was falling in love.

“Nope!” Lyric’s voice tore through his quiet peace, and he looked over. “No. You two are way too intense when you look at each other like that. It feels like porn music is about to start. Claude, I want you to hold him tight and kiss his neck, but look up at the camera.”

Claude scoffed. “How is that less like a porn?”

Lyric waved him off. “Who’s the professional here? Just do as I say. Look at the camera so people will see you’re the hottest man with grey hair on the planet, but they won’t get a full view of your face.”

“Fine,” Claude huffed. His lips descended, and Harley fought to keep his eyes from closing. Claude kissed him slowly, softly, and it was almost too much.

“Oh God, this is perfect,” Lyric said.

Harley heard the camera shutter on his phone go off several times. When it stopped, Claude didn’t. He kissed and kisseduntil Harley started to develop a littleproblemhe didn’t want anyone else to see.

“Mercy,” he whispered.

Claude laughed as he pulled back. “Did you say merci?”

Harley rolled his eyes. “I saidmercy. I’m about to traumatize everyone in this room.”

Claude’s eyes glinted with mirth. “Sorry. I can’t help it. I love kissing you.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Aminah complained. “You two better grow out of this stage, or I’m quitting and moving to another mountain.”

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