“Probably.”
“Your visa runs out when school’s over. You goin’ back to Dublin?”
“Unless someone offers to marry me,” he jokes, then winces when he sees my face. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t want to think about losin’ you.”
He traces a finger around the rim of his glass. “What do you want, Liam?”
The question lingers. I stare at my hands, calloused and raw from the guitar. Try to find the words.
“I want Fireball to make it. I want Padraig happy. I want my family whole again.” My voice drops. “I want you.”
His lips part. “You have me.”
“For now.” I look up, meeting his gaze head-on. “Be honest. How long can we last? You’ll finish school, go home, build a life. I’ll still be chasing gigs in shitty bars. I’ll still want things I can’t have.”
He frowns. “Such as?”
“Sex. Connection.” I drag in a breath. “I love men. I love women. I’ve tried to choose, but I can’t. I don’t think I’m meant to.”
He’s quiet. The candle between us flickers, throwing light across his face.
“I don’t want to cheat on you,” I say. “I also don’t know if I can be the man who stays faithful to one person forever. It’s not about you. It’s about whatever’s broken in me.”
“Maybe nothin’s broken,” he murmurs. “Maybe we both want more.”
I huff out a laugh. “More doesn’t exist. Not in the world we live in. People don’t get to love two at once. Have you ever seen it in real life?”
“Polygamy?” He extends his hand across the table, fingertips brushing mine. “You ever think maybe there’s someone out there who could love all of you? And all of me?”
“Someone like who?”
“Maybe we’ll find her together someday.”
I shake my head, half laughing. “You’re mad.”
“Probably.” He squeezes my hand. “But it’s possible.”
His optimism does something to me. Something dangerous. I want to believe the world could be wide enough for an unconventional kind of love.
We fall quiet again, the background noise of the restaurant fading into white noise. He eats a few bites, finally drinking the lassi. I sip my water and let the moment settle.
“I don’t know if I’m courageous enough.”
Linus’s fingers trace my knuckles. “You’re not a coward, Liam. You’re the bravest man I know.”
The words affect me more than I expect. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “You shouldn’t make me feel things in public.”
He laughs softly. “Then finish your food before I make a scene.”
I grin despite myself, tearing off another piece of naan. “Bossy.”
“Manager,” he corrects.
We eat in companionable silence until the plates are nearly empty. Outside, the sky’s bruised purple. The rain’s stopped. When we step out, the air is cool and clean. It almost smells like a new beginning.
We walk side by side down the wet pavement, our shoulders brushing. Past neon signs, the rattle of a passing bus. He slips his hand into mine without hesitation. I don’t let go.
