Jacob shoved at him, but not very hard. He looked tired. And very sad.
Rasul poured them both more to drink.
Jacob sipped at his, but mostly he rolled the glass against his cheek with one hand, petting Mr. Nancy with the other. Rasul hadn’t even seen the cat come onto the table, but there he was now, fluffy and sweet.
“I hope you understand,” Rasul said at last, “that someone who fears abandonment as much as I do isn’t going to have a relationship with you and then just wave goodbye and disappear when my teaching tenure is up.”
Jacob nodded. “It’s not about that as much as I pretend it is. I’m afraid of change. I wasn’t counting on my dreams becoming reality.”
Rasul stared straight ahead, arrested. “Okay, go ahead and hate me because this is mercenary as hell… but I think you just solved my midpoint plot crisis before I even got there.”
God bless him, but Jacob laughed. Softly, but a laugh was a laugh. “I could never hate you.”
Rasul captured Jacob’s hand, drew it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Don’t you understand? I feel the same way.”
Jacob sagged against him—the distance was a bit of a stretch, and Rasul scooted closer so he could feel Jacob’s head on his shoulder.
“You weren’t supposed to be like this,” Jacob whispered.
Unable to help himself, Rasul kissed the top of Jacob’s head. “How was I supposed to be?”
“Ephemeral. Impossible. A dream I could keep in my heart. A man in the mists I could imagine to be whoever I wanted him to be, whatever I needed. A mystery who spoke to me in riddles every few years. The mist that leads me on, and on.”
Funny, Rasul could relate. In a way he hadn’t realized until now, the longing for Jacob had fueled him through the drafting of this book. The desire to be that man, to forge a maze in those mists, to push past the weights in his heart so he could make Jacob smile.
What if we can both have our dreams of each other?
Shutting his eyes, he drew Jacob closer into his side. I love you, Jacob. I’m going to make this work. I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to find a way for us to get to the happy ever after.
He sat there with the man he loved, stroking him, until Jacob fell asleep. Then, sidestepping curious cats, he tucked Jacob into bed, locked the apartment door, and made himself a bed on the floor beneath the heavily ticking clock. As it lured him into his own sleep, he dreamed of the universes he created, pushing them on and on, determined not to stop until he found the one where the two of them could be together.
JACOB WOKE to the soft sound of rain outside his window and the smell of cool air and worms.
His head weighed a ton and his mouth felt as if the worms had crawled around in there, but the soothing sound of the weather outside was a balm to his queasy stomach. He hadn’t remembered opening a window the night before. Though to be honest, the whole of the previous evening was slightly hazy. He’d gone to meet Gus and Matt, and then….
His eyes flew open as memory settled in, jagged and discordant. Stumbling up his stairs, finding Rasul there. Sitting at the kitchen table, drinking scotch, talking….
“Oh God.” Jacob sat bolt upright, then clutched at his head. “Oh God.”
Stumbling to the bathroom on autopilot, he scrambled to piece the previous evening together in his mind. Jesus, what had he told Rasul? He had this bad, bad feeling he’d confessed everything. He was pretty sure he’d told him about the damn cardigans, for crying out loud.
Whimpering, Jacob rested his forehead against the mirror. Then he washed his face, brushed his teeth, used the toilet, and got ready to face the music.
The tick of the clock drew his attention, and his heart leapt out of his throat as he noted the time. Ten thirty? He was late opening the store! Had he forgotten to set an alarm? He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to decide what to do.
That was when he saw the cat bowls, which were half-full. He frowned at them. They shouldn’t have any food in them if he’d gone this long without feeding the cats. In fact, all three animals should have woken him up in protest. They were his eternal backup alarm.
On the kitchen table was a piece of paper held in place by a small ceramic figurine, the type that looked as if it might decorate the dirt in a potted plant. It was a gray castle turret wrapped with blooming vines.
Holding it in his hand, Jacob read the note.
I let you sleep in. Don’t worry about the store—Gina set me up and I’m running it for you. There’s some oatmeal in the oven, and tea and toast are ready for you to start on the counter. Take your time and enjoy the morning.
I went to the floral shop down the street to leave you a flower with your breakfast, but then I worried what mess the cats would make. I decided to give you a castle instead.
R
A glance at the counter revealed a mug with teabag dangling over the side and, yes, two pieces of bread standing up in the toaster, waiting to be plunged. The electric kettle was filled and ready to go, and steel-cut oatmeal rested in a bowl in the oven, set to warm.
Jacob set the castle back on the table and readied his breakfast. He had his tablet in front of him as he ate, but mostly his gaze was drawn to the turret. He thought about it the entire time he showered as well.
His heart pounded as he made his way down the stairs. By this time it was a quarter past eleven. The shop was quiet, the usual blanket of silence that came at midday. Jacob wove his way through the stacks as silently as he could, stopping when he had a clear view of the front desk.
Rasul was there, sitting on a stool and reading a book.
He had on his glasses again, his chin-length curls drawn into a casual ponytail at the back of his crown. Whatever he was reading had him entirely engrossed.
He was so handsome. So vibrant even in stillness.
He made you breakfast and gave you a castle, then arranged to run your shop so you could sleep in.
How was Jacob supposed to resist that?
Gathering his courage, Jacob stepped forward.
It took Rasul a moment to notice his presence, but when he did he smiled, closing the book and rising. “Hey there, sleepyhead. Feeling okay this morning?”
Why did such an innocuous question make Jacob feel so fluttery? “A bit of a headache, but breakfast helped. Thank you for that.” He felt a blush creep up his neck. “And the castle.”
Rasul’s smile and wink made Jacob’s knees weak. He’d never survive this.
Rasul settled onto the stool again and gazed out across the shop. “It was really busy this morning, but it’s finally quieted down now that book club has gone. There were a few moms and their kids and some grandparents upstairs, but not anymore.”
Jacob leaned against the wall. “It’s usually quiet at this time, but it’ll pick up around lunch and again midafternoon.”
“What do you do when it’s only you here?”
“Sometimes I do financial things or place orders, but often I simply sit. The books are comforting company.”
“Agreed.” Rasul threaded his hands behind his head. “I’m a little jealous. I think every author dreams of running a bookshop someday. I know it’s not all communing with books and chatting with customers, but dang.”
“I’ve worked hard to make it feel like an essential part of the community. Hosting events, helping organizations with their special orders. All the Main Street businesses do that, but some of us are making a concerted effort to connect with the changes of the century. We can’t compete with big corporations or The Online Store That Will Not Be Named when it comes to discounting, but we’ve worked hard to instill in people the idea that you pay for more than just the item. Which admittedly means I have to show up at as many local events as possible and make sure I take out ads in the paper and the high school yearbook, any and everything to keep Moore Books in the public’s consciousness. I keep the exterior in shape and the space clean and attractive too. It helps quite a bit.”