“Regretfully, I have to go by The Pride,” he said. “My evening wear is there. And even if it wasn’t, I have to reassure them I didn’t ‘drive you off’ as Teresa yelled at me when I was running out.”
Sam winced. “I left my suit over at Joel’s last night.”
“Hopefully Reinhold will bring it to The Pride. If not, we’ll go and get it, don’t worry.”
Sam pushed aside his plate and buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Everyone must think I’m an idiot.”
Alistair snorted. “No, everyone thinks I’m the idiot. And…they aren’t wrong, I suppose. I’m the one who put Joel and Reinhold in the position of having to lie to a friend.”
Sam lowered his hands. His brown eyes were thoughtful behind the thick lenses of his cheaters. “I guess I’m not used to having friends.”
“I don’t see why. I have friends, and I’m a complete prick.”
“Oh, you know.” Sam turned his attention to his food, avoiding Alistair’s gaze. “My family needed me. Between work and home, there wasn’t a lot of time to do anything else.”
Alistair frowned. He’d already guessed they had something to do with it, but that didn’t make hearing it confirmed any more pleasant. “They sound like a bunch of selfish jerks, if you ask me.”
Sam looked up in shock. “No, it’s not…I mean, it did sort of occur to me last night that they would suddenly need me if I tried to meet up with people, but…I don’t know, my own family didn’t really like me very much, so why would anyone else?”
The Cunninghams better stay in Gatesville, because if they ever set foot in Chicago, Alistair would make them regret it. He pushed his chair back and went around the table, so he could bend down and kiss Sam. “Well I like you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to Sam’s. “And I don’t like anybody.”
Sam laughed, and a light blush touched his cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Come on. We have some time to waste before we have to go to The Pride. What say we get dressed and take the train to Lincoln Park. It’s a beautiful day—we can stroll by the waterside.” He cocked his head. “We can make it a date, if you’d like.”
Sam’s eyes widened—then he kissed Alistair. “I’d like that a lot.”
17
Sam felt as though he were floating.
The day altered between sunlight and clouds, and the wind off the lake added a distinct chill to the air. But none of that mattered next to the fact he was strolling through the park with Alistair, their arms linked.
He kept thinking he’d wake up. That this was a dream. He was boring old Sam, and yet he was on a date—a date—with beautiful, magical Alistair. It was enough to take his breath away.
He’d actually forgotten it was Easter. The park was full of women in their best Easter bonnets, children hunting eggs, and men in somber church-appropriate suits. Cars drove slowly along Lakeshore Drive, while families picnicked in the grass at the edge of the park.
“This is nice,” Sam said. “Are you enjoying?”
Alistair looked around for a long moment before answering. “Yes, actually. I’ve never been to the park.”
Sam halted, surprised. “You haven’t?”
“No. We came to Chicago after the war, and…it never seemed worth the bother, I guess.” He unwound his arm from Sam’s to light a cigarette. “I spent all my time working. It seemed safer, somehow. Devoting my life to The Pride and to the others. It meant I didn’t have time to think.”
“That makes sense.”
Alistair held his cigarette in one hand and casually took Sam’s hand with the other. His fingers were chilled, but the touch sent a thrill through Sam. A couple of people glanced their way, but no one seemed particularly interested. They were just another young couple, wandering the riverfront.
“Does it?” Alistair mused. “Make sense, that is.”
“I think so.” Sam ran his thumb over the back of Alistair’s hand, feeling the sharp knobs of his knuckles. “Sometimes it’s easier to throw yourself into the work in front of you than to feel things.”
He’d tried to say something at home, once or twice, when things seemed unfair. When he’d been much younger. Only to be told that he was an ungrateful child, that everyone else worked themselves to the bone while he did nothing for the family. Arguing, pointing out all the chores he did that left him falling into bed exhausted every night, while Jake barely lifted a finger, did no good. No one else saw things the way he did, until he started to doubt himself. Maybe he wasn’t working hard enough. Maybe he was a selfish, spoiled brat. Then Jake died, and he felt guilty for ever resenting him.
So he focused on the work for its own sake, because nothing he did ever seemed to make anyone happy. Each day was just a list of things to check off, and if he could get through that list without feeling sad, or angry, or hurt, then that was good enough, wasn’t it?
“I did that for a long time, too,” Sam said. “Until I just couldn’t.”
Alistair bumped him with his hip. “And faked your own death.”
“I didn’t!” Sam protested, but then started laughing, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “God, that was rather dramatic of me, though, wasn’t it? Dropping everything and running to the train station on a whim?”
“Hardly a whim,” Alistair said. “A breaking point, maybe.”
Sam turned to face him. “And now I’m here with you.”
Alistair leaned down and kissed him softly. “That you are.”
After wandering the park together for a few hours, they left and made their way toward The Pride. Sam had thought Alistair was exaggerating for effect, but when they walked in, Teresa jumped up from the table where she was folding napkins and ran to him.
“You’re back!” she exclaimed, and threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad you didn’t let my stupid brother drive you off.”
Reinhold came in from the kitchen, followed by Philip. “Are you all right, Sam?” Reinhold asked anxiously. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine.” Embarrassment scalded Sam’s face. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”
“Not at all.” Reinhold glanced at Alistair, but didn’t say anything to him.
Philip strolled over and slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders. Alistair stiffened, eyes narrowing into slits. “Just remember you’ve got options, Sam,” Philip said with a charming grin.
Sam stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“He didn’t tell you? What a shock.” Philip leaned down, as though he meant to speak in confidence. “I’m available. As a familiar, or…something else. Or both.”
Sam’s jaw dropped open. First a date with Alistair, and now Philip was flirting with him? Or…no. “You’re making fun of me.”
Philip’s gray-yellow eyes widened. “I’m certainly not! I like you, and I think we could make some pretty good magic together. In and out of the bedroom.”