“Yeah. See you later.” The phone continued to ring. Micah bit his lip, then cupped Cosmo’s cheek and caressed the edge of his jaw.
Cosmo sighed, his eyelids fluttering, and leaned into the touch. “I must get back to work now.” But even as he said it, he took a step forward and gripped the lapels of Micah’s suit jacket.
The phone stopped ringing, then started again. Micah reluctantly pulled back and whispered goodbye, leaving Cosmo with a dazed dreaminess in his expression.
He answered the call as he headed through the lobby and pushed through the front doors. “Hi.”
Everett held his phone properly, fluorescent office lighting crowning his hair. “All done. You’ve got an appointment with Dr. Yoshioka on November twentieth at ten am. That’s the soonest I could get you in.”
His stomach plummeted. That was weeks away. It would help in the long run, but was too late for the event. Shit. Not that one or two sessions probably would have helped enough to keep him from panicking at the reception, but now he’d have to find some other way to practice. Baby steps weren’t going to cut it. “Thanks for doing that.”
“You bet. Do you need me to call you that day to keep you accountable so you actually go?”
“That’s probably not a bad idea.”
“Will do.”Everett’s smile wavered. He set down his phone, blew his nose, and picked it back up. “I’m so proud of you, little brother.”
“You better not be crying.”
“Who’s crying? Nobody’s crying.” Everett’s voice broke on the last syllable. “Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too.” The call ended, and Micah put away his phone. The tie in his pocket was starting to dampen his shirt; he pulled his suit lapel away and rubbed at the wet spot.
A car drove through the parking lot, slowing as it went past Cosmo’s sedan. It parked, and a white man in a leather jacket and sunglasses climbed out. Why did he look familiar?
Adrenaline surged through Micah’s limbs. It was Zedd. He was wearing that leather jacket in the profile photo of that Flashbulb account that had been leaving Cosmo nasty comments.
Zedd pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket as he strode toward the gallery. He tried to pull out a cigarette, thendropped the pack. Picking it up, he managed to get one out and light it, but his hands shook, and two of his fingers were in metal splints.
He strode up to the doors, but Micah blocked his path. Zedd took a step back, smoke curling from his nostrils. He looked Micah up and down, then said, “Right,” and flicked his cigarette onto the sidewalk. “No smoking, huh.”
“You’re not coming in.”
Zedd pushed up his sunglasses. He had a black eye, the flesh beneath his eye swollen and purple. “Excuse me?”
“You want both your eyes to match? If not, I suggest you turn around and get back in your car.” Micah was not going to let this douche harass Cosmo today. And standing up to Zedd gave Micah extra satisfaction because it would be a direct incident of Zeddnotscaring Micah away the way he did with Cosmo’s past partners.
Narrowing his gaze, Zedd said, “And who are you supposed to be, random man? This art gallery needs a bouncer? Get the hell out of my way.”
“Is there room for two in your grave, Zedd?”
The color drained from Zedd’s face. He stared at Micah, wide-eyed, his throat working. He stepped back, stumbling, then turned and ran. When he reached his car, he jumped inside and peeled out of the parking lot. Someone laid on their horn as he cut them off. The light turned red, and Zedd ran straight through.
19
VISIONS IN BLUE
Cosmo - Snagged Thread
Armed with a dry erase marker and a strong sense that he was doing something wrong, Cosmo climbed the stairs to the second floor of Micah’s apartment complex. Light glowed beyond Micah’s Venetian blinds, but it was dim, coming from the hallway or kitchen.
The flowerpot at the corner of the balcony had nothing in it but some soil and rocks, and Cosmo wondered if Micah had set it up here specifically so he had something to put a key under beside the obvious welcome mat. The fact that he was leaving a key outside at all had to be extremely vulnerable for someone so terrified of anyone coming inside their place.
He lifted the pot and picked up the key.
Pressing his brow to the cold glass, he squinted through the slats in the blinds. Opening the door and walking inside in full view of Micah would be disastrous and not at all ghostly.
After unlocking the door, Cosmo carefully twisted open the knob and strained for sound. A heater hummed from the living room, and the scent of laundry soap and new furniture wafted around him. A white cat sat on the couch, its tail twitching. It hunched into itself, staring at him.
