13. Liam

I'd never seen anything like it.

It was…

Magnificent. Awe-inspiring. At once the most terrifying and beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Watching Adam erase a whole cluster of buildings, his magic sweeping out to flatten everything in its wake…Good God. It was like something straight out of those dreams that woke me up some nights. A dull headache burst at the base of my skull and radiated out, sending bright spots flitting through my vision. I blinked them away, refused to miss even a second of this.

Adam's magic raged across the site while he watched on, all alone among the debris, keen focus in every line of his body. The buildings collapsed like cardhouses—disintegrated right in front of my eyes. Next to me, Benedict Harrington and his sister stood straight like statues, radiating stoic silence. I dug my thumbs into the space between my brows to ease the throbbing behind my forehead.

The storm slowed as the blaze of Adam's magic faded to a bright shimmer—gentler than before, lighter. When he called, it returned to twine around him.

Beautiful.

The earth mages finished their work before the barrier came down. I lagged behind as Benedict and Eleanor Harrington made their way to Adam—I'd limited my interactions with them to the bare necessities and intended to keep it that way. They seemed similarly inclined.

Adam rose when his father and aunt approached, dusting off his trousers. I was just close enough to hear Harrington's detached, "Well, that was efficient."

"Thank you." Adam dipped his head, and bloody hell. He'd just done something few mages in the entire London area could have accomplished, and that was all his father had to say? ‘You had a job and you did it'? Wow.

I squinted to assess Benedict Harrington's magic, clear to read in the muted light resulting from the material that veiled the site. Was Harrington more powerful than his son? Possibly. But his control was vastly inferior, tendrils of his magic snaking around him like playful children.

"Get some rest, Adam." Eleanor sounded equally unimpressed. "We need you ready again tomorrow."

Adam nodded. "Of course, yes."

They discussed a few more details while I walked over to where one of the office buildings had stood before. The soil was dry, emanating warmth reminiscent of summer evenings when the day's heat lingered in the pavement even as the sun dipped towards the horizon. A hint of smoke remained in the air, so faint it might have been from a barbecue in the area. A short distance away, the site manager instructed a crew of workers on how to prepare everything for active construction. I noticed more than one pale face among them, caught them glancing at Adam before their attention returned to the site manager.

Once Benedict and Eleanor departed, I joined Adam with deliberate lightness in my step. "Your dad dishes out praise like it's spaghetti bolognese at an all-you-can-eat buffet, doesn't he?"

A smile ghosted across Adam's features. "I'm pretty sure he's never been to anything quite that plebeian."

"Right," I said dryly. "Because rich and all. What about you?"

"Does the breakfast buffet in a five-star hotel count?"

"Christ, you're fancy." I made sure to infuse my voice with a generous dose of warmth. "You know, my family used to eat out only for birthdays—whoever's birthday it was got to pick a restaurant on the cheaper end of the scale, and then we'd all go there for dinner. Quality time together and someone else's cooking."

"Yeah, I can see how your family would do that." Adam tilted his head for a crooked grin. "Not quite the Harrington style. If you can't turn it into a show of wealth and power, why bother?"

"Now there's a surprise," I deadpanned. For a moment, I studied Adam—exhaustion in the curve of his mouth, his magic draping him in a soft, diffuse glow. He looked tired. "For the record," I told him, "that was really impressive."

He brightened. "Yeah?"

"Yes. I doubt there's more than a handful of mages in the country who could have done that without veering anywhere near losing control." I shook my head, ignoring how the movement sparked a brief wave of nausea. "But they're not seriously expecting you to do that again tomorrow, right? You're just about tapped out."

"I'll spend the night in a replenishment circle." His tone implied that he'd done it before. I was about to ask what that looked like—would he be sleeping on the floor?—when another wave of nausea washed over me. Fuck. I held my breath until it passed.

When I opened my eyes again, Adam was staring at me with narrow focus. "What's wrong?"

"Just a bit of a headache."

"A headache? You get those often?" His voice was tight, and it took me a moment to draw the line to his mum.

"I don't, no." I thought about reaching out, then didn't—we were surrounded by people who knew us, and the site manager reported directly to Benedict Harrington. He didn't need to know that Adam and I had become…well, close. "Just haven't been sleeping so well lately, been having the occasional nightmare. Probably just the pressure."

Also, my magic had been strangely restless. I chose to omit that part.

A tense second passed while Adam kept staring at me. Then he sighed, the line of his shoulders loosening as he jerked his chin towards the exit. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" I asked even as I fell into step with him. It kind of felt like my default these days—right next to Adam.

"My flat." He sent me a brief look. "I've got coffee, painkillers, or a bed. Your choice." The innuendo was clearly unintentional—as soon as he realised it, he shot me another look, the faintest hint of a flush to his cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't mean…You drew a line, right? And I respect that."

I'd made the right call. I had.

"Thank you. But that doesn't mean…" I broke off, dizzy spots in my eyes, my headache pressing up against my skull. It passed in just a second. "That doesn't mean we can't joke around a bit. We're friends, Adam. I don't want us tiptoeing around each other."

"Me neither." Relief lightened the words, immediately followed by a wink. "So, interested in conducting a purely scientific experiment on the comfort of my bed?"

God, lying down for an hour sounded heavenly—which probably meant that I should make my way home. But, well. Adam's flat was closer, I'd parked there earlier, and while the thought of coffee made me nauseous right now, painkillers seemed like a good idea. I'd drive home once I started feeling better.

"I'm sorry, honey." My tone carried melodrama. "But I have a headache today."

"Let's fix that." He unlocked the door and held it for me, the panels surrounding the construction zone equipped with several security cameras that tracked our exit. We stepped out into a warm, overcast afternoon—a different world where buildings didn't melt like chocolate in the sun, where tourists consulted Google Maps to find the best restaurants in the area while Londoners grumbled about those same tourists blocking the pavement.

My headache throbbed with each step. Felt like maybe I lost a second or two here and there. By the time we reached Adam's building, I barely managed to greet the doorman before Adam ushered me towards the lift.

I was grateful for the shade inside Adam's flat. He shoved a glass of water and some painkillers at me, and somehow, I swallowed both. Made it up the steps to Adam's bed, too dizzy to notice much of anything, but this wasn't right, was it? No. Adam was the one who'd erased a whole block of buildings just earlier, so he deserved a nap. Not me.

"Shut up and sleep, Liam."

Adam's voice, tinged with warmth, was the last thing I remembered before gravity pulled me under. For once, I didn't dream.

* * *

Oh.This was…heaven. Or something very much like it.

Cool silk on my skin, a mattress that was just soft enough. The faint, woodsy scent of…of Adam's cologne?

Oh, fuck.

My eyes flew open. Sloped ceiling above me, and I was alone in bed. No one beside me. What—oh. The demolition, Adam's magic an irresistible force of nature, beautiful and terrible—and then my headache creeping up until my thoughts turned to snakes, biting their own tails. He must have helped me with my shoes because I couldn't remember taking them off.

I sat up, careful not to bump my head where the ceiling arched close to the bed. It was tucked into a niche that was just big enough, shimmering curtains draped around the space, and I might tease him about that later. The prince in his canopy bed.

Even in my head, the thought was doused with affection. That probably told me something.

How long had I slept? I peeked at my watch—it was just past six. Three hours, give or take.

"Adam?"

"Hey." It was calm and soft, floating up to me from the lower level of the flat. "How're you feeling?"

"Better."

"That's good." Still in that slow, dreamy tone. I chanced a last look around the heavenly space before I exhaled around a yawn and pushed the curtains out of the way, crawling back into the real world. While I'd slept, the clouds must have fled because sunlight slanted in through the roof windows and brightened the wood floor. I leaned over the railing and found Adam cross-legged in the place where his table usually sat, now moved aside to make room for a large, dark kind of carpet that seemed designed to hold chalk. A massive circle surrounded Adam, the pattern so complex I couldn't immediately make sense of it.

"Sorry for imposing," I told him.

He tipped his head back to smile at me, expression serene. He must have been meditating, and when I focused, I could see the swirl of magic around him, bright enough to rival the rays of sun that tangled in his hair. "Not imposing," he said. "I mean, sure, I had to cancel the three hot dates I'd planned for the afternoon, but I expect you'll make it up to me."

Two could play that game.

I let my voice dip low. "And how, exactly, would I do that?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Based on past evidence."

Heat wiggled in my stomach—Adam on his knees, glancing up at me through his lashes. Adam above me in my bed, his magic brushing over my skin. I inhaled. "Past performance is no guarantee of future results."

It had been the catchphrase of the professor who'd taught my business elective, a recurring bonus question in exams. Adam chuckled. "Professor Bryar?"

"Yeah." I walked halfway down the stairs and sat on a step, elbows on my knees. "You went to the Imperial College as well, right? For chemistry?"

"Mhmm." Adam shifted to stretch his back. With sunlight streaming around him, clad in shorts and a loose T-shirt, he very nearly stole my breath. But I couldn't afford to think like that. "You studied engineering, correct? I don't remember seeing you around."

I'd seen him a few times from afar, but that was it. That evening at the pub was the first time I'd spoken to him since school.

I shrugged. "Well, it's a lot of students. So, hardly surprising, especially given we didn't even interact much before."

"My loss." Self-deprecation was tucked into the folds of Adam's smile. "I was pretty busy with my own teenage drama. Don't think you'd have liked me much back then."

"Who says I like you now?" I asked, raising my eyebrows as I bit down on a grin.

"You did," he said, and right, yes, that was a fair point.

"Seems my brain was out to lunch." I sent him a bright look and got up again, scrubbing a hand through my hair. "Anyway, can I get you anything? Actually, are you allowed to leave that circle?"

"I can, but I shouldn't. It's exponential—the longer I stay, the faster I recover."

"So you're basically stuck?"

"I'm used to it. Not my first time at this rodeo." He gestured at a bottle of water and a package of nuts beside him, along with an air mattress and a sleeping bag.

"Right." I made my way down the rest of the stairs and drew closer, studying the swirls of chalk. It was an intricate pattern that might easily take me an hour to recreate, and much longer to memorise. Maybe he'd drawn it this morning, before heading to the construction site—when we made it here earlier, I'd hardly been in a state to notice much of anything. "How long does it take you to do this?"

"Half an hour, give or take."

"Would it work for me?"

"Only the fire aspect." He watched me with calm, bright eyes. "There's a generic one, but that's less efficient. This one's based on it, but my grandmother altered the design so it's specific to fire, and then Gale optimised it more."

I crouched just outside the circle, my gaze trailing intersecting lines of chalk. When I glanced up, Adam was still watching me, and I sent him a smile. "You're not supposed to show me this, are you?"

"No." He made it sound quite simple.

"And you're really going to spend the night in this circle?"

"Yes."

"With a few nuts for dinner."

"Yes."

"After you spent a whole lot of energy earlier taking down those buildings."

"I guess I could order us some pizza." His voice was light, but it was the ‘us' that swung it for me.

I pushed myself to my feet and went to check his fridge. Over my shoulder, I asked, "Can I pass things to you? Like food?"

"Sure, yeah. You can walk in and out of the circle too—it's not one that'll trap you." With a gusty sigh, Adam fell onto his back, legs splayed and arms behind his head. "But if you're planning to use the coffee machine, please don't."

"I'm not that bad," I protested. Granted, my results with the fairly similar machine in my office had been, ah…subpar. "You're just a snob. And anyway, no. I'd like to get some sleep tonight, and you should, too. I'm going to make us a proper dinner."

"Uh." Adam let his head tip to the side and sent me a full, beaming smile. "I mean, yeah, that sounds nice. But even you can't conjure ingredients out of thin air." He paused. "Or can you?"

Milk, apples, and a lone slice of cheese. Greek tragedies had started like this.

"No." I closed the fridge and turned to face him. "But I'm perfectly capable of doing a grocery run. Key, please?"

"Oh, darling." Adam fanned himself, eyes dramatically wide. "I don't think we're quite at that stage yet in our relationship."

I swallowed a grin. "Key?" I repeated with pointed emphasis.

"Listen, it's not that I'm afraid of commitment…"

He won that round—I laughed, and it loosened a knot of lingering tension in my chest. His lips tugged into a smile as he dropped the theatrics.

"Key is on the little shelf under the stairs. You need directions to the closest supermarket?"

"You actually know where it is?" I asked with exaggerated surprise. "Based on the contents of your fridge, I thought you lived on coffee, fruit, and takeaway."

"I also make an excellent bowl of cereal."

"I'll take your word for it." I realised I was grinning at him like he'd hung the bloody moon, so I turned away to grab the key and tuck it into my pocket. "And no worries, I'll just ask my phone for directions. You fine with a stir-fry?"

"Sounds amazing," Adam said softly. "Thank you."

"Thank you for all the help over the last few weeks. This really is the least I can do."

"It's no hardship, you know?" Still on his back, he shot me a brief smile. "Like I told you, I like feeling useful."

Oh, for fuck's sake—my stupid heart needed to settle down. "You are useful. You're brilliant, okay? If your dad and aunt can't see it, that's on them."

"You know, I think I'll keep you around." Adam's warm, quiet voice blended in with the sunny evening and the distant sounds of Covent Garden. "You do wonders for my ego."

"Three months ago, I'd have sworn that an ego boost is the last thing you need. Now look at us." That had been rather more honest than I'd planned. To gloss over the strange softness that glowed between my ribs, I shook my head. "Anyway, I better get going. Think we could both use an early dinner and a good night's rest."

Stop. I needed to stop. I wasn't usually given to rambling.

"It's been a day," Adam agreed, a hint of tiredness bleeding into the statement.

Yeah. It had been, and while my headache was mostly gone, its memory still weighed on me. After another look at Adam, glowing bright in his lonely circle, I turned to leave. Some fresh air would do me good.

* * *

"So, tell me about those nightmares."

I paused, fork halfway to my mouth, and met Adam's eyes. We were camped out on the floor, he in his circle on the air mattress and me with my back against a wood beam. A comfortable breeze wafted through the flat.

"They're just dreams." I lifted a shoulder and dropped it again, the smell of my own cooking suddenly a tad too much. "The unpleasant collector's edition, in this case."

"Yeah, but aren't dreams meant to reflect our fears and stress factors?" The corners of Adam's lips hitched up into a cheeky smirk. "Or desires, at that."

Thanks, but one of those was staring me in the face. Not that I'd admit as much.

I set my plate down on the floor. "Well, I doubt that my desires include magic washing over London, which is pretty much what my nightmares are about. It's just stress, you know? I've never handled anything of this magnitude—as you well know. Hardly a surprise I'm not sleeping well. "

Adam was quiet for a second, the fading sun painting him in hues of gold. "Yeah, maybe not. But you were pretty out of it earlier."

This was getting too heavy for me, so I aimed for a much lighter tone. "Maybe I need a different mattress."

"A different mattress?" He tilted his head, a faint grin creasing the corners of his eyes. "What's wrong with yours?"

"Well, nothing—or so I thought. But now that I've tested yours?" Edging into flirting territory again. It seemed like we never strayed very far these days. "Wow, so many things. A kingdom for your bed."

The grin broke through in full. "Oh, I don't know. I liked your bed."

Two options—laugh it off or lean into the sweet ache I felt for him. I laughed it off. "Maybe your standards are low given you're about to spend the night on an air mattress on the floor."

"Nah, I know what I like." He shot me a significant look, then sobered. "Hey, why don't you stay the night?"

I cleared my throat. "Here?"

Well, obviously.

"Yeah." Adam waved an unnecessary hand at the mezzanine. "I don't need my bed, you're already here, and we'll be doing Southwark first thing tomorrow. Easier to get there from here."

My mind stuttered over the idea—spending the night in Adam's flat, in his bed, with him but not really. If we were friends, it shouldn't be a big deal because he was right, it was practical. Except I had no toothbrush on me, no clean underwear. And we were friends, but also…not.

"It's not like I'll be doing the heavy lifting there," I said.

"No." Adam was watching me closely. "You've been running yourself ragged, though."

"It's not that bad."

"It is that bad." He crossed his legs, gaze warm and serious. "You need a break, Liam. If you're having nightmares on the regular…"

I looked away, inhaling slowly. The greasy scent of stir-fry turned my stomach. "It'll pass."

"Probably, yeah. You still need a break. Hell, you deserve one." He considered me for a moment, then smiled. "Okay, tell you what. Let's take Friday off. I'll pick you up Thursday night and we'll drive to the sea—we've got a house by the beach near Whitstable. Pack a bag for three nights, don't forget your trunks. We'll drive back Sunday evening."

Three days at the sea—God, it sounded like heaven, even the idea of it easing some of the strain in my muscles. But could I handle being this close to Adam without having him? Did I want to do that to myself knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere? Also…

"Isn't it your birthday on Saturday?"

He looked shifty, like he'd hoped I wouldn't mention it. "Yeah. How do you know?"

"I asked Gale."

"Well, you'll be doing me a favour by giving me a reason to get away. That's assuming you're not going to pressure me to finally get married and have kids?"

I snorted. "In general, or to and with me?"

"Either." His lips curved up although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But seriously, I'd rather not be here for that."

"Won't it look weird, us going away together on your birthday?"

Benedict Harrington was many things—stupid wasn't one of them. If his son chose a weekend trip to the sea with another guy over celebrating with his intended fiancée…Well. Doing the maths took no genius.

Adam pursed his mouth, gaze sliding away. "I guess so, yeah. But not if I claim it's with Cassandra. She and Amit can book a spa weekend or something."

I drew a knee up to my chest and let my head tip back against the wood beam that served as my support, watching Adam from underneath my lashes. Three days with him, just the two of us in some beach house…Knowing him, he'd happily parade around in nothing but his trunks just to taunt me.

"Can we really take a day off right when construction is starting?" I asked, partly to further delay a decision.

"We won't start until next week," Adam told me. "The ground needs time to settle."

That made sense.

I gave myself a moment to study Adam—edged in golden light, dark hair curling around his ears and falling into his forehead, hazel eyes focused on me. Yeah, I wanted him. It went both ways, only I couldn't be sure it wasn't down to his lack of options.

I liked him, more than any of the guys I'd dated in uni. But it couldn't amount to anything real.

If we spent an entire weekend together, I'd give in anyway.

Did I care?

"Okay." My pulse was fluttering in my fingertips. "A trip sounds great. Tell me what I can do? Other than pack my own bag."

"That's all right—I've got it."

"Any birthday wishes?"

Adam flashed me a cheesy smile. "Well, I assume you'll be bringing yourself, so…"

I smiled back, couldn't help it. "I see how it is."

"Mhmm." Then he sobered. "Hey, you know that's not…I'm not expecting anything, right? That's not the point of the trip."

I'm stupid about you.

"I know." If I'd wanted to discourage him, I could have said more. I didn't. After a moment, he ducked his head, but not before I caught the tentative upwards tilt to his mouth.

"Good."

A few seconds of silence stretched between us, thoughtful rather than uncomfortable. Then I picked up my plate and got to my feet, crossed over to also collect Adam's empty plate that he held out to me with a, "Thank you. That was delicious."

"You're welcome." Our hands brushed, and I allowed the contact to linger before I stepped back. "I hope that's what you tell your cook at home too, by the way."

He pursed his lips. "You know, I don't. I should change that."

"You should." It came out treacherously fond. I turned away to deal with the plates, rinsing them off rather than putting them into the mostly empty dishwasher. When I glanced back at Adam, he'd stretched out on the air mattress, hands laced on his stomach.

I should leave.

But when I moved to put on my shoes, Adam sat up again. "You're not staying?" He sounded disappointed, and Christ, he'd sleep on the floor tonight, confined to a power circle so he could erase another set of buildings tomorrow. It seemed so…lonely.

"I don't have a toothbrush," I said gently. "Or spare clothes."

"Wear something of mine." His gaze travelled down the length of my body and back up. "It won't be an exact fit, but it'll be close. And I'm sure there's an unused toothbrush in the bathroom."

I really should leave.

Instead, I returned my shoes back to the little rack under the stairs and dug out my phone. "All right, just letting my family know I'm not coming home. They'll have questions."

"Tell them we fucked like bunnies." Adam's voice was perfectly innocent, at odds with the impish glint in his eyes. For some reason, it made me chuckle even as my lungs felt a little tight.

"They'll already assume that."

"Excellent." Then Adam shook his head, features softening. "But seriously, thanks for keeping me company. Think we can both use some rest tonight."

"For sure." I reminded myself to look away from him, but it seemed to get harder each time.

God, I was tired.

* * *

I woke up gasping.

"Liam."

Dark curtains, the ceiling closing in, my heart in my throat.

"Liam."

The mattress dipped. Gentle fingers brushed my jaw.

"Hey. Hey."

I focused on Adam's face, outlined by the faint trickle of morning light. It was quiet around us, the terrible rush of magic that crushed everything in its wake melting away. Fuck, I should be used to it by now. Yet I was still dizzy when I sat up, caught halfway between dream and reality. Adam's touch was the brightest thing in my mind.

"Sorry." I dragged in a rough breath. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—you need to get back into the circle."

"It's fine. I'm all charged up." He withdrew his hand, and I wanted to tell him no, please, please keep touching me. I held my tongue.

"What time is it?"

"A little past six." His voice was hushed like the morning light. My bones ached with how much I wanted him, all my defences down. I'd slept for more than seven hours, though. It was better than what I'd managed most nights lately.

"Did I wake you?"

"No." A wry smile. "The air mattress decided to lose all its air halfway through the night, so I've been awake for a while."

"Lie down with me." I shouldn't have said that. Normally, I wouldn't have. "Sorry, never mind. That's silly."

His eyes went quiet, dusk caught in the hazel of his irises. The room had gone still around us. No one moves, no one gets hurt. "Budge over," he said then.

It didn't immediately make sense.

"Come on." He tilted his head, both challenge and invitation. I couldn't have said which made me want him more. So I shuffled to the right side of the bed, closer to the slope of the wall and away from the edge of the mezzanine. Watching him. Always watching him.

He stretched out next to me, on his side, facing me.

Breathing, both of us.

The world went slow and quiet. At some point, I drifted back to sleep.