Page 23 of Doors & Windows
“They’re going to love it.” Jonah nudged a water bottle in his direction.
He’d been so focused in those last couple of hours that he’d hardly paused for a sip. Now, he drank like a man in a desert, head tilted back and stray rivulets trickling down his chin, over the smooth column of his throat. Jonah followed the droplets down to the damp neckline of his shirt and swallowed.
“Will you take a picture?” Liam pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to Jonah. “Gotta commemorate the moment or whatever.”
Jonah gladly took the phone and shuffled back toward the doorway to get the full mural in the frame. Liam scooted the other way, closer to his painted wall. He had his knees bent and loosely spread, both elbows resting on them to throw up twin peace signs. His smile was big enough that his eyes were nearly shut. Jonah took the photo, then several more. Just to be sure.
He made sure to send them all to himself as he stood. Crossing to Liam, he traded the phone back in exchange for an outstretched hand, pulling Liam to his feet. Their hands lingered longer than strictlynecessary, so Jonah used it to his advantage, maintaining his hold to tug Liam forward.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s not every day we get to watch the sunset from a private beach house.”
They returned to the terrace off the main bedroom where they’d eaten lunch. Jonah filled his lungs with a gust of sea breeze, held it, then let it out.
“It feels like you can breathe easier out here,” he said. “Like the air is lighter.”
“Definitely cleaner than that good ol’ New York City smog,” Liam agreed. “What do you think these people do for work to afford a place like this?” He leaned against the opulent granite railing that separated them from the drop overlooking the beach.
Jonah sidled up beside him, close enough that their arms were in constant contact. He squinted at the horizon. “Definitely in the mafia, right?”
Liam sighed, dramatic and wistful. “Something to aspire to, I suppose.” He turned toward Jonah, nudging the toe of his yellow high-tops, now speckled with paint, against Jonah’s work boot. “Thank you, again,” he said. “For landing me this opportunity. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”
“I already told you. You earned it yourself.”
Liam didn’t push back. Instead, he wet his lips, fingers trailing along the balcony rail until they brushed Jonah’s elbow. “Can I kiss you?”
Jonah nodded. He wondered if it showed on his face, what it meant to him—the asking. The waiting for consent. The gentleness with which he treated him.
The kiss didn’t stay gentle for long, though, and Jonah didn’t want it to. He lit up when Liam made ahigh, desperate sound against his mouth, his hands sliding into Jonah’s hair. His fixation with the new length made Jonah want to keep growing it out, letting it run wild in a way he never had, if only it would keep Liam clinging to him like this.
Next time, the words echoed again in Jonah’s memory. Liam kissed him like there was a future ahead of them, one where their two paths twined seamlessly together. The thought opened up around him like a brilliant light. It opened beneath him like a bottomless pit. He didn’t understand how both of those things could be true at once.
Liam pulled back, keeping his fingers light at the nape of Jonah’s neck. “What’s wrong?”
Jonah shook his head. “Nothing.” It should have been nothing. This was the most perfect moment, the most perfect day. Jonah’s anxious melancholy had no place here, but it was too late; it’d made its home anyway. “Nothing,” he repeated. “Just… earlier. You said you wanted me to cook you dinner next time.”
Liam frowned, beginning a careful retreat. “I mean, you don’t have to—”
“No, that’s not...” Jonah closed his eyes, shaking his head again. He caught Liam’s hand as it pulled away, twisting their fingers together. “You saidnext time.”
The crease between Liam’s brows deepened, which made sense, because Jonahwasn’tmaking any sense. His thoughts were getting tangled in his throat like they always did, coming out wrong, out of order.
“You said it so easily,” Jonah clarified. “Like it wasn’t…. It was just a given. That there would be a next time.”
“I’m sorry.” Liam’s voice was suddenly unsteady. Uncertain. “I didn’t mean to assume.”
Jonah couldn’t watch him suffer a moment longer. “I didn’t know if you’d still want this.” The truth burst out of him. “Wantme.” When he dared to look up again, clarity had dawned in Liam’s eyes.
“Jonah,” he whispered.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Jonah added quickly. “I know it’s not reasonable to expect… I mean you deserve—”
“Jonah. This is about what happened in your room?” He waited for Jonah’s nod. “Have you really been worried this whole time that I was thinking this way?”
Jonah eyed him, heart in his throat. “Have you reallynot?”
“No. I haven’t,” Liam said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that night, but not in the way you’re worried about.” He looked down at their intertwined hands, dangling between them. “The opposite, really. The conversation went a little differently in my head, but I was hoping to talk to you today about this.” He squeezed his hand. “Aboutus.”
All at once, the steady thrum of a promisednext timewas replaced with the cadence of that one syllable.
