“Okay, you’d better stop now or I’m going to take you right here in this crowded living room.”
“Lies.”
Micah stopped dancing. He brushed his thumb along Cosmo’s cheek and wiped away a tear. “The things you want are simple. They’re easy.” He clenched his jaw, his throat working. “And it hurts me to know that no one has ever given them to you before. I will eat every cookie you bake. I’ll read you every book. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are.”
Cosmo sank against Micah and shut his eyes. “Do you know Marcel Duchamp’sPrelude to a Broken Arm?”
“Was that part of hisReadymadesseries?Fountainand all that?”
“Yes. The snow shovel. What do you think of it?”
“Eh…” Micah hesitated, unsure of what answer Cosmo wanted. “I like some conceptual art if it really makes you think, but I can’t say it’s my favorite.”
“It’s an absurd novelty.”
“I’m not into absurd novelties. I love art that’s genuine. Passionate. Deep.” He caressed the nape of Cosmo’s neck, his other hand pressed protectively against the small of his back.
Cosmo nodded, his eyes full of hope. Micah didn’t know what Duchamp had to do with anything right now, but it was apparently the right answer. The song changed, howling wolves and creeping notes ramping up into the dramatic synth of “Thriller,” which would probably be played at every Halloween party until the end of time. The partiers with their latex masks and red Solo cups took on a new energy, and someone’s plastic cutlass smacked into Micah’s thigh.
He swayed with the music and nipped at Cosmo’s lips. “You gonna bake me cookies this week?”
“Not cookies. I’m going to fill you up with my banana bread.”
“That sounds really dirty.”
“It’s cream-filled.”
“You’re making this up.”
“It’ll give you a leg-cramping orgasm. It’s that good.”
Micah raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “I’ll gird my loins.” Maybe that would be a good time for Cosmo to help Micah practice for the gallery reception, if he was still willing. But the first step was being able to let Cosmo inside the apartment, which Micah hadn’t been able to do yet. His reaction to Cosmo coming in unannounced had been much worse than he’dhoped. If he couldn’t get Cosmo inside, then the rest of his ideas for practice wouldn’t matter, and he was certain the reception would go horribly.
Cosmo suddenly pulled out his phone and opened the screen. If it was more disgusting Flashbulb notifications, Micah was going to pluck the phone from his hands and drop it in the punch bowl.
“Everything alright?”
“Goddamn it.” Cosmo sighed and showed Micah the phone.
It was a text from Déjà:
God, that guy never stopped. Cosmo shouldered past dancers, the phone pressed to his ear, and Micah hurried to keep up. The music quieted as they stepped outside. A chilly wind licked around them.
“Darling, are you still at my apartment?” Cosmo said. “I don’t want you there alone. Not after what he did to you at my funeral… He sent me one last week. Guess I’ll have to take this one to the police too.” He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned to Micah. “The note says, ‘I hope there’s enough space in your body locker.’”
“Shit.” Micah rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t want to worry you, but I should have told you that he was at Night Gallery the other day. He came up to the doors and I wouldn’t let him in. When I quoted his last threat back to his face he got scared and left. I didn’t realize you’d been going to the police about it.”
“Micah! So my presque vuwascorrect. He was going to come inside and slam me against the wall. But you stopped him and didn’t tell me.” A series of expressions flashed across his face, and Micah expected to be chastised for not saying anything.
Instead, Cosmo twined their fingers together and said, “The police have been spectacularly unhelpful so far. I’d rather have you around. Will you come home with me? I’ll cook you something.”
“How can I say no to that? Are you scared? I won’t let you be alone. I should have given Zedd a black eye to match his other one.”
Déjà’s voice drifted from the phone. “What’s going on? What did Micah say? Something about Zedd at the gallery?”
Cosmo switched the phone to his other ear. “Sorry. Yes, the sentient garbage can I used to date showed up at Night Gallery.”
“Let me get my jacket, and I’ll meet you at your car. We can go back to your place, but I think you should call the police too.” Micah hurried down the sidewalk, then turned for the stairs that would take him up to his level. He needed more than a jacket. If Zedd was showing up at Cosmo’s place to leave threats at his door, then they had to prepare for it to escalate.
