Page 31 of Symphony of Salvation

“I will.” Another long, searching sideways glance.

“Are you okay?”

He made a noise of assent. “I’m going to leave now. Wouldn’t want to wake up with regrets.”

Although I wasn’t positive about his meaning, I had a pretty good idea.

“Good night, Niles.”

“Good night, Mr. Maestro.”

With the door half open and one foot on the threshold, August stopped and turned. He leaned closer as if to impart a secret. “Please don’t call me that. I hate it.”

He was right there, wine on his breath, hints of cologne floating between us. I didn’t move. I wasn’t a stupid man.

“Good night… August.”

His gaze landed on my mouth again, and for a second, I thought…

Then he was gone, stumbling down the path to the awaiting car.

I had just enough alcohol flowing through my veins to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing.

Chapter eight

Niles

“What does it mean when a straight guy can’t stop staring at your mouth?”

Koa lowered his book—Faulkner again—and peered over the top of his cheaters. “That he’s not as straight as he thinks he is.”

I hummed in agreement, distracted by the bare tree limbs rattling outside Koa’s classroom window. The takeout cup of coffee warming my hands wafted a rich, aromatic scent, but I couldn’t find the capacity to raise it to my mouth and sip. I was in no shape to make my own that morning, so I’d hit a drive-through, which I rarely did.

My evening with August and all it entailed lingered. I saw his eye-crinkling smile, the lone dimple, and mussed hair. Worse, I recalled the pooling warmth in my belly when his heavy-lidded gaze landed repeatedly on my mouth.

Wouldn’t want to wake up with regrets.He’d said those words, hadn’t he? I didn’t imagine them, did I?

“Were you on that dating app again?” Koa asked, shaking me from the fog.

“God no. I deleted that damnable thing after the Corey Cokehead catastrophe. I don’t need a man.”

“Right. So, who’s the straight guy staring at your mouth?”

“No one.” I shifted my attention from the winter scenery to my best friend. He’d abandoned the book in lieu of what he likely perceived as interesting gossip. If it involved my love life in any way, Koa was invested. Ever since he and Jersey had moved in together, my best friend had been determined to see me happy with someone else.

My eyes felt full of sand, and a headache lingered despite the two aspirin and gallon of water I’d drunk when the alarm went off. Everything hurt. I was too old to function on three hours of sleep, which was all I’d managed after August left. The thought of heading to my classroom and suffering through a day of listening to teenagers practice their midterm solos about killed me.

“Why do you look hungover?” Koa mused. “I cut you off at two glasses last night so you could drive home.”

“And I arrived home to find company on my doorstep.”

“Company in the form of a straight man who stared at your mouth all night?”

I nodded, lifting the twenty-four-ounce takeout cup to my mouth and sipping the rejuvenating brew.

Koa wrinkled his nose. “Your coffee smells disgusting, by the way. Why subject yourself to that sludge? You always make your own.”

“Koa… shut up. I feel wretched, and this is the nectar of the gods. It’s the only thing keeping me upright.”

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