So I ate some more pizza and drank some more wine, and watched the flames dancing in the hearth. Adam seemed to understand that I didn’t feel like talking, and ate and drank along with me.
This wasn’t so bad. Maybe it didn’t have to all be blazing sunsets and grand passions and shooting stars. I’d dreamed of someone, but he’d never materialized, and I could tell the whole Chris Wilson thing was a total dead end. It was probably foolish to have thought otherwise.
And after what Margot Emory had told me about any warlock being enough to ensure my safety, even if it meant sacrificing the true strength of my powers….
I figured I could live with that.
A large drink of chianti, to give me courage. Then I set down my glass and looked across the table at Adam. I was sitting on the couch, and he on one of the two armchairs that faced it. “I want you to kiss me.”
He’d been in the middle of lifting his own glass to his mouth. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Instead of setting down the glass, he drained it — which sounds worse than it was, since he only had a few swallows left in it anyway. Once it was empty, he did place it carefully on the tabletop. “What’s this about, Ange?”
“What do you think it’s about? You’re the one who said we should be together if my consort continues to be a no-show.” I crossed my arms and met his gaze straight on…or as straight on as I could manage after two large glasses of wine. A heavyweight with alcohol I was not.
“Right, I did, but….”
“But nothing. All these years you’ve been on my case about this, and now when I’m actually inviting you to kiss me, you’re going to act all weird about it?”
Something crossed his face then. Annoyance? Worry? In the dim light it was hard for me to tell. I could see him clench his fist on his knee, as if fighting some inner conflict. Then he got up from his chair and came over to me. Standing above me like that, he seemed very tall.
“Stand up,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because if this is the decision you’re making, if by asking me to kiss you, you’re saying we’re going to be together, then I want you to stand up and kiss me like the prima of the McAllisters. I don’t want to be a couple of kids making out on a couch.”
He meant it, I could tell. There was a note of authority in his voice that I’d never heard before, as if somehow this kiss would push us past a threshold, carry us from the last edges of childhood into our adult lives. Did I want to take that step? I’d asked him to kiss me, but….
It would have happened anyway, if your consort had come to you. But he hasn’t, and you need to kiss Adam, to get used to the idea. It’s not as if you haven’t kissed a bunch of random guys over the past year anyway.
That seemed to clinch it. I looked up at him steadily, at the firm chin and friendly mouth, at the brown hair that had just enough of a wave that he couldn’t get it to do much of anything.
I reached out and took his hands in mine. To my surprise, they were cold, despite the warmth of the room. So he was more nervous than he wanted to let on.
“Yes, Adam,” I said. “I want you to kiss me.”
The briefest moment of hesitation, and then he bent down and placed his mouth on mine. I hadn’t been expecting a shower of sparks, and I didn’t get one, but once I got past that I realized that his lips were warm and strong, and he tasted of wine as I opened my mouth a little and let him taste me as well. This wasn’t so bad. I could get used to it, even if it wasn’t thunder and lightning and choirs of angels singing.
After a minute, he pulled away and gazed down at me. His eyes were shining, so although I wasn’t experiencing anything earth-shattering, I could tell he felt differently. “Okay?” he asked, his voice husky, rougher than usual.
“More than okay,” I replied. “It was good. I liked it.”
He smiled, his fingers tightening around mine. “Good. I mean, I thought it was good, too.”
“Just good?” I teased.
“Okay, more than good. Great. It was — ”
“Hey, Angela, the Coke’s gone. Can I have — ” Kirby again, this time stopping abruptly as he seemed to notice how close Adam and I were standing to one another, how we were still holding each other’s hands. “Er…sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, releasing Adam’s fingers as I turned toward the doorway to the kitchen. “What did you need?”
“Well, you’re out of Coke, so I was going to ask if it was okay if I fired up the Keurig for the watchdogs. Things start to drag around 3 a.m. if there’s no caffeine to be had.” He was studiously not staring at Adam, although I could see his eyes dancing with amusement.