Page 7 of Weave the Dark, Weave the Light
That sharp smile again. “A continuation, then. A discovery.” He paused at the door to Meat & Potatoes. “Does this qualify as a lovely dinner?”
Very much so. Ari’d managed to eat at the small restaurant once before, but that was only because there’d been an opening at the bar. “If they can seat us.”
They stood under the portico of Theater Square, out of the lash of wind that cut down Penn Avenue. “Oh, we have a reservation.” And fuck if Jonathan’s grin didn’t turn Ari inside out with the need to kiss him into submission. He propped opened the door for Ari.
They entered and didn’t ask how Jonathan had managed a near-impossible feat on a morning’s notice. A discovery, indeed. There was so much Ari wanted to understand. So much they feared to ask, both of Jonathan and for themself.
Jonathan followed, and as he’d assured, there was a reservation for two under his name. They settled into their table.
Ari pulled a little of Jonathan’s element and wove it into a simple spell, lessening the chance of being overheard. Maybe it was possessive of them, but they didn’t want to share this night with anyone else. Ari skimmed the menu, but their mind kept wandering to unasked questions. “Do you exist in this world?”
Jonathan stilled, the menu motionless in his hands. “We’re here, Ari. Right now. This isn’t a dream.”
Of course it wasn’t a dream. “That’s not what I’m asking.” Ari tore their gaze from Jonathan and read the menu again. “When I’m not here, what do you do? Where do you go?”
Jonathan laid his menu down. “Ah. I understand. Yes, I exist in this world and time. When I’m not with you, I’m still here. People see me.” He folded his hands on top of the menu and curved his mouth into a smile. “As to what I do, I own a used bookstore.”
“Isn’t that a little cliché?”
Ari was growing fond of Jonathan’s laugh. “Perhaps, but people like me tend to gravitate toward antique items. Or collections. Or”—he waved a hand—“oddities.”
Information twined in Ari’s skull. “Are you telling me bookstores and antique shops are all run by magical beings?”
“Not all, surely.” His smile didn’t diminish.
“I—”
Before they could get their question out, the waiter arrived to take their order. Ari had no idea what they wanted, but one good thing about this place was that they couldn’t go wrong with anything on the menu. Ari stabbed at a random dish and rattled the name off.
“I’ll have the same.” Jonathan handed his menu over, then tilted his head. “Wine?”
“Not tonight.” They wanted a clear head, especially for later. “Water is fine for us.”
The waiter took the menus, then retreated, leaving Ari caught by the intense desire to put the proud, powerful man before them on his knees. “Why me?”
“You calledme, Ari. Not the other way around.”
“You found me at the rink.”
“You were looking for me.”
“I was looking—” They’d been looking for passion. For the spark that had been missing from their life. Searching to understand their magic, for a sense of belonging. “But you’ve been in Pittsburgh for years, I suspect.”
“Yes.” He dropped his hands to his lap. “As have you.”
“Since college.” They’d gotten their degree, then stayed, even though they could have found a job elsewhere. Something about this town, its hills, rivers, and bridges had wormed its way into Ari’s soul. “I felt compelled to stay.”
“Life is strange and magical.”
Every amazing moment in Ari’s life had been. Even meeting Theo and Bess. Some moments had been fraught. Some dangerous. But always infused with magic and power. “What do you want with me?”
Jonathan lowered his gaze, his smile demure. If he’d planned to reply, it was lost as two glasses filled with water were set in front of them.
There was attraction, one neither of them could deny or ignore. Hell, Jonathan’s element practically wrapped itself around Ari unbidden. They pulled and wove it in a way they’d never been able to with fire. Maybethiswas what being a strong witch was like, this ability to tap into energy and use it—make it part of themself.
They pondered while they waited for their meal, and then while reveling in the taste of their flat iron steak. The lull that fell between them wasn’t uncomfortable, especially not when Ari shifted to nudge their leg against Jonathan’s.
“I’m going to answer your question with one of my own,” Jonathan said. “Why do you want me, Ari?”
