“Yeah, me too,” I said, mouth full of asparagus, so flavorful, so extremely pleasurable that I heard myself groan. “This issogood, Kai.”
“Sounds like it,” he teased me.
I indulged in another forkful, and a rich butter-salt flavor exploded in my mouth, my face growing hot from all the steam rising from the plates. I could sense his eyes on me too, this feeling of being perceived, of being watched in admiration, all of my basic and cerebral desires satisfied alike. A perfect moment.
“You know,” he added, twirling his fork in his plate of spaghetti, “James always says that one of the greatest pleasures in life is eating good food while talking about how good the food is.”
“True,” I agreed, surprised a little at the mention of James, at the mention of anything that wasn’t entirely linked to the ongoing moment. As though I’d forgotten that life still existed beyond this place. “Are you and James close?”
Kai nodded, and after he swallowed and patted his mouth with the napkin, he elaborated, “If you ask him, he’d probably say he’s my best friend, but he says that about everyone.”
“Hm,” was all I contributed, too preoccupied with his fire-lit presence for the coherency of words.
His hair was still a little windblown from our walk, and I had the sensitive urge to reach across the table and brush the soft strands from his eyes.
In books they always talked about love in terms of passion, a feeling that was bigger than yourself, flammable, and self-destructive. This wasn’t like that. I didn’t have butterflies in my stomach, but a sparrow, spreading its delicate wings and lifting itself up toward the radiant silver moon. That was how Kai made me feel. I was the sparrow, and he was the moon.
“What is it?” he asked in a private tone of voice when he caught me staring.
“Nothing,” I replied, lowering my eyes to the table. “Tell me. How did you and James become friends?”
He paused to raise a glass of water to his lips.No wine, he’d proclaimed earlier at the store.I don’t trust us with wine.And I’d laughed, knowingly, because I didn’t trust us with wine either.
“I think there’s a certain chemistry about these kinds of things,” he said. “The way you connect with someone, the ease with which you find yourself talking to them, or even just the way you perceive their sense of humor. It’s all very alchemical. And then sometimes—and this is going to sound very sentimental, I know—but sometimes you just get a feeling with people.”
“A feeling?”
“That they’re meant for you and you are meant for them.”
“Andof coursehe believes in fate,” I laughed at the ceiling.
Kai clicked his tongue, feigning indignation. “I cook for you, and you mock me. Now, how is this right?”
“Well, I did promise to be cruel. Make it nice and easy for you,” I reminded him, feeling all hot and languid as I leaned back on my palms.
A strange intensity braced his face, his dark eyes luminous in the firelight. “Nothing about this is easy, Anya,” he rasped.
“And why is that?” I pressed him—pressed us both to lay ourselves bare, right here, where there were only the ocean and the stars above to judge us.
But he resisted, the bow of his mouth pulling into a thin, tight line. “Let’s not play this game. You know how I feel about you. You’ve known for quite some time now.”
“I never said this was a game,” I argued.
“Then what is it?”
“I guess I’m just trying to understand what it is that you want from me.”
Solemn now, without an ounce of playfulness, he said, “I don’t want anything from you, Anya. I want you. Just you.”
Pleasure spread in my limbs, a warm, heavy sensation like drifting off to sleep. And yet I wanted more, to make him say more, to strike some greater confession from him. “Why?”
Wryly he muttered under his breath, “Why, she asks.”
“Yes, why?” I persisted.
He remained solid as a statue, but something softened in his eyes when he said, “Because I like watching you think. Because I admire your intelligence and integrity, which you never sacrifice, not even for the sake of companionship. Because sometimes you say things I’ve stopped myself from saying a thousand times before. And because I like who I am when I’m with you, seeing the world through your eyes.”
Light-headed, half-adrift in the unshakable certainty of his voice, I whispered, “The world is much more colorful through your eyes, Kai.”
