Page 5 of Doors & Windows
Jonah had thought last night might have been that moment.
He and Liam had stayed on the fire escape long past sundown, abandoning their post only long enough to buy a cheap bottle of champagne from the liquor store on the corner. They drank straight from the bottle, passing it back and forth with fingers that brushed with every exchange just because they could. The bubbles had beencold on his tongue, but they went down warm, a loosening agent that had him melting against the brick wall. It was reminiscent of the only other time they drank together, every sip bolstering Jonah’s confidence, weakening the fortress he had built around his heart.
Any iteration of Liam within touching distance would have gotten his heart racing, but the details of last night wove the scene into something bordering on a fairytale. The sunset dancing in Liam’s red hair, the glow of sweat and happiness bright on his skin, the city he had worked so hard to make his home blanked around them.
Each time their hands brushed, they had lingered just a little bit longer. Jonah was almost sure that Liam felt it too; a slow, gnawing hunger like a third presence, urging them closer.
Jonah had wanted to kiss him.
The longing had grown to a peak after the last strips of pink faded from the sky, leaving them to bask in the pale glow of the streetlamps. It was getting late, but where Jonah should have been exhausted from the long day, his skin had buzzed with undue urgency, as if this one night with Liam was all he had. Perhaps, he realized, it was muscle memory. Clinging to Liam and then losing him when morning came was a cycle that had worn him paper-thin once upon a time.
It didn’t need to be like that anymore. They didn’t have to hurry.
So when the moment came like a fork in the road, a pregnant pause that waited for a kiss, a declaration, an invitation to stay, Jonah instead let himself be held by the reassurance that Liam would still be there tomorrow. That something as sacred as what they had shouldn’t be rushed.
Jonah had been the one to provide the out through the excuse of an early shift the next morning. Liam, of course, had accepted without a trace of disappointment. He’d only thanked Jonah again for his help, then pulled him into an embrace that clung to Jonah the whole way home.
“Speaking of,” Bea said. “Loverboy’s a painter, right?”
Jonah pointedly ignored the nickname. “He’s an artist, yeah.”
“He any good?” Beatriz asked, which made Jonah snort a laugh.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be—yourword, not mine—if I said no?”
Bea narrowed her eyes. “Is that your way of saying he sucks?”
Jonah laughed again, nearly choking on his food.
Early on, Liam had specifically told Jonah that painting wasn’t his strong suit, but Jonah had watched him work hard to strengthen his portfolio before he submitted his applications. They’d spent long nights over silent video calls, Jonah immersed in his books while Liam spun a pallet of colors into something beautiful. Even if Liam would never admit it himself, Jonah had no qualms about bragging on his behalf.
“He doesn’tsuck,” he said. “He’s really good, actually.” He knew his tone betrayed a little too much affection, so he barreled on before she could comment. “Why do you ask?”
Bea nodded toward the McMansion. “Sal says the Martins are looking to commission someone to do a mural for the nursery. Asked if I knew anybody. It will probably be under-the-table, but a job is a job.”
The fact that her first thought was to ask about Liam, that she’d remembered this offhand detail about someone Jonah cared about at all, was so unexpectedly touching that it took him a moment to form a response.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ll ask him. Thank you, Bea.”
His phone buzzed on the truck bed next to him.
“Don’t let me keep you.” Bea smirked, pointing down at the message that illuminated his screen.
Can I call you really quick?
But it was Jonah who called instead.
It was still a miracle to him: the fact that he could dial Liam’s number at any time he wanted and get the instant pleasure of hearing his voice.There was nothing he could do to hide his smile from Beatriz as he hopped off the ledge of the truck and ambled toward the house. He claimed a spot on the wooden patio swing and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Hi,” Liam answered sheepishly on the first ring.
“We’re switching to carrier pigeon if this is how you’re going to text now.”
A bright laugh crackled through the phone, and Jonah could already breathe a little easier at the sound.
“I can’t promise it would be any better,” Liam said. “It would just take even longer to clear up misunderstandings.”
“For the record, I’m still waiting to clearthisone up,” Jonah said. “And by the way, I have something to ask you, too.”
