Page 33 of Midsummer Phoenixes
Soyer chuckled. “I didn’t want to surprise you with that. Come on.”
We went up two more flights, then stopped. I saw a heavy metal door outlined in Soyer’s phone light, but he stopped before taking me through.
“We’re doing it properly. Close your eyes.”
“Huh? What’s this even about?”
He put his flashlight underneath his chin and said, in a mock-scary voice, “Close your eyes, Amory.”
I chuckled. “Okay, fine. I’m trusting you here.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, heard him suck in a deep breath.
“Those things you say to me, my heart. Your trust is a gift. Ready?”
“I don’t know, but I guess so.”
I squeezed his hand and felt him pull me along. The door opened with a tiny sound, not the squeaking of metal I had expected. Someone took the time to oil it, then.
“Okay, over here. Lift your right foot—yup, two more steps. Perfect, stand right here.” He took both my hands and brushed a kiss against my chin. “Open.”
I did. My jaw dropped. We were on a rooftop terrace, a fancy one, fake grass, a hammock over by some solar panels, comfy chairs, and, most noticeably, lanterns. Strung all over the place, there were lanterns, some rainbow ones, mostly regular white ones, as well as fairy lights. The illumination was magical. Like my Soyer.
“Whoa.”
“Happy three-month anniversary,” Soyer said.
I stared at him. “Come again?”
He shrugged. “To the day, actually. Well, depending on how you count. I counted from when you first called me Soyer.”
There was the smallest hint of insecurity there, thin as thawing ice above running water. Seeing him like that, it made my heart squeeze tighter.
I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “You didn’t say a word. And that on the day I didn’t even save you a piece of pie! Thank you, thank you so much.”
He chuckled. “My pleasure. The cherry pie thing works out in my favor. I can extort kisses from you to make up for the lack of pie.” He stroked my cheek. “There’s dinner.” He pointed to a table set neatly with a white tablecloth and food on heated plates. “Chef sends his greetings.”
I gasped. “You’re reenacting our first date.”
He looked into my eyes, then put a hand on my neck, gently running his fingers over that sensitive spot. “That night, you didn’t go home with me. You left me at the curb, wanting you. Will you come home with me tonight, Amory? Please?”
I smiled. “How can I say no to that?”
He drew me in for a kiss which started out sweet, soon deepened. I felt him dig his hand into a pocket of his half coat, and music, soft and slow, bubbled up around us from unseen speakers.
“I’m sure you can dance if I lead you,” he whispered in my ear, his lips having wandered.
“I think I can do anything if you lead me.”
We started swaying, not really dancing, just following the rhythm, arm in arm.
“Don’t tempt me. It makes me want to lead you astray, makes me want to lead you where only I can have you.”
I chuckled, tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear. “What I want is for only you to have me. I love you, Soyer.”
In his deep eyes, desire and love warred, made peace, became something else. “Amory,” he said, just my name, and yet that single word seemed to carry so much weight when he said it.
It was enough to keep us going, to let us be close for a long while, one song ending and a new one beginning over and over. Above us, the sky was bright with stars and a sliver of moon. It was like a dream, him and me, dancing in the darkness like two phoenixes in flight, wings touching under a moonlit sky.
