Page 131 of Symphony of Salvation

“I will.” She dashed down the hall, and the hollowthunkof footsteps descending the stairs to the basement sounded a moment later. We’d temporarily moved her boxes down there while we worked on her bedroom.

“Are you ready?” I asked August as I folded the stepladder and collected the rest of the garbage from the decals.

“I am. Are you?” He scanned my person.

“Ten minutes. I have to change.”

We were out the door in eight, August shouting a warning to his daughter about having boys over when we weren’t home. She either ignored him or rolled her eyes in the privacy of her room.

“I thought she and Cody broke up.” I buckled my seat belt and eyed August.

“No. They’re back together.”

“Again?”

“Again.”

I chuckled. “Teenage love. It’s so finicky.”

August drove. He’d been flaunting his newly leased vehicle since he got it a few weeks ago. I didn’t mind and texted Koa to tell him we were on our way.

Although August had met Jersey and Koa several times in passing, we’d never officially done anything as couples. I’d needed to have August all to myself for a time before I was ready and willing to share him. Also, formally introducing August tomy ex, a man I’d been intimately involved with for over a year, who was now my best friend, was strange.

Jersey greeted us at the door and motioned toward the kitchen. “The chef is hard at work. If he’s behind schedule, I take full responsibility.”

“Save it. I don’t want to know.”

Jersey chuckled. “Believe me, I wish that was the reason.”

We found Koa hard at work at the counter, a glass of wine within reach. A mixture of spicy and savory smells permeated the air. Classical music played softly in the background.

The island was littered with a mountain of books, all of them either tabbed or lying open, the pages weighed down with various kitchen implements.

“Ignore the mess. I would have cleaned, but…” He eyed Jersey.

“I said I was sorry.”

“We’ll eat in the dining room.” Koa turned back to the counter.

“What are you working on?” I rotated a few books to view their spines and read their titles.

“I’m rearranging parts of my curriculum and choosing new material. I need to freshen it up.”

“Holy crap. Are you finally moving out of your depressive era?”

Jersey laughed, almost choking on his beer, earning a tight-lipped glare from his partner. “Sorry,” Jersey mumbled, still chuckling.

To Koa, I said, “I take it that would be a no.”

“No.”

“You’re not adding Faulkner, are you?”

“Honestly, Niles. Do you think my students would take to Faulkner?”

“Not in this lifetime. What’s for dinner?” I asked before he could rant about my poor literary opinions.

“Lebanese cuisine. Mujadara, tabbouleh, and pistachio baklava for dessert.” He nearly spat the last menu item like he wasn’t pleased.

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