Page 35 of Follows with Intent

Jadon did something with his eyebrows, but he put the books back. Plastic rustled a few more times. The smell of meat and wood smoke grew stronger, now mixed with something else—something, Nico’s body told him, undoubtedly fried. Nico’s stomach decided to try to turn itself inside out in anticipation. And still Jadon didn’t appear.

“Jay?”

No answer.

Nico heaved himself out of the chair, his joints crackling from the time in the chair—God, had it really been three hours? He pushed aside the irrelevant, impossible, ludicrous thought that maybe he was getting old.

He came around the corner of the shelving unit into the next aisle, and then he stopped. Jadon had spread a tablecloth on the floor, and he sat there, takeout containers dotting the pristine white fabric. Paper plates. Eco-friendly disposable utensils.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Nico said. “If that’s a beer, I will love you forever.”

Laughing, Jadon popped the top on a can of—well, Nico hadn’t heard of Schlafly Summer Lager before, but it did taste a little like summer, bright and citrusy and refreshing. Like it wasn’t October, with the dark and the cold clenched tight around everything.

“We can’t do this,” Nico said. His stomach gurgled a protest.

A tiny smile hooked the corner of Jadon’s mouth. “I can pack it up.”

“No! I meant, we can’t do this again. Just this once. That’s it.”

Jadon nodded.

“Because this is wrong.”

“So wrong.”

“There are rules.”

“That’s what makes it so exciting.”

“Stop!” Nico laughed. “You’re making it sound porny, and this is a library. It’s a sacred space.”

“You’ve never read Shaw’s stories about Emery,” Jadon asked drily, “have you?”

“God, why did you bring that up? It took me months to use a self-checkout again.” Nico lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the tablecloth. He touched the fabric, and then he looked up at Jadon. The detective had lost his jacket, and the white broadcloth of his shirt had ridden up from his waistband to expose a hint of skin as he leaned back on his hands. The top button of the shirt was undone too, and Nico realized that, in a weird way, the hollow of a throat could be muscular—defined, anyway. And it was patently unfair that Jadon could even be buff in his neck. Where his collar lay open, it exposed a patch of paler skin, where most days it must have been hidden. That seemed unfair too. Nico took another drink of the beer. You need to eat something, a voice in his brain told him. You’re drinking that too fast.

“All right,” Nico said, gesturing with the can. “How?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets—ow!” With a laugh, Jadon pulled back the leg that Nico had kicked. He rubbed his shin and gave Nico puppy eyes. Then it was gone again, and the young, bright, smiling Jadon was back. “You wouldn’t believe what you can get away with if you’re a cop.” Then he held up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “But I promise to only use my powers for good.”

“Requisitioning the college’s table linens,” Nico said with raised eyebrows. “And don’t give me that line about being a cop; I saw the security guard when you tried to get a pass tonight. He wanted to strip search you.”

“But he was much friendlier after I gave him fifty bucks.”

“Jadon!”

“Are you going to yell at me every time I tell you something?”

“Very possibly.”

“So,” Jadon said, “this is the place I was telling you about, before I changed my mind when I saw you looking at the Walk of Fame.”

“Before I was a colossal brat, you mean.”

“Before Saladgate. It’s my favorite barbeque in the city. And these—” He held up what Nico now knew was a toasted ravioli. “—are toasted ravioli stuffed with brisket, so basically, they’re the food of the gods.”

Nico reached to take it from him, and at the same time, Jadon held it out, and somehow, instead of taking the ravioli, Nico found himself opening his mouth and accepting a bite. Jadon’s knuckles dusted his chin, and the dark, dark sandiness of his eyes was so unbelievably…calm. Nico chewed mechanically, with absolutely no idea what the ravioli tasted like. It could have been delicious. It could have been school paste.

“Well?” Jadon asked.

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