“Perfect, thank you,” I said, taking the stick. Morgan had remembered about my preference for cremated marshmallows.
“Wasn’t Morgan meant to be reciting poetry for us?” Brad asked, pulling his own marshmallow apart into sticky strings.
“Leave him alone,” Marta.
“It’s fine,” Morgan said, which was a surprise. He cleared his throat, setting his un-toasted marshmallow aside while I plucked the crispy outer shell off mine and shoved it in my mouth, waiting to hear what he had to say.
Morgan paused, cleared his throat, and then squared his shoulders.
“Full many a glorious morning I have seen flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, kissing with golden face the meadows green, gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy,” he began, projecting his voice.
He only ever paused for effect, never stumbling, curling his tongue around words normal people never said aloud, suddenly sounding like something out of the distant past, or like an actor on the stage.
I always thought he was incredible, but I was seeing a whole new side now. A side where sweet, kind Morgan was alsosmart, smarter than me, smarter than probably anyone sitting around this campfire.
Everyone fell into silence as he spoke, watching in awe, just like I was.
“Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth,” he finished, staring into the fire, glowing in the light of it.
I couldn’t help myself.
I reached out, sticky-fingered, turning his cheek toward me in a daze. The feeling in his voice, the way he spoke as though the words came from his own heart, all of it was too much.
Morgan’s breath hitched as I rose up to kiss him, lips gently parted, soft and warm and exactly like I’d imagined them a million times, heat trickling down to the pit of my stomach as he kissed back, the tiniest sound catching in the back of his throat, and I wasn’t sure if it was a protest or amorekind of sound, but I also didn’t care.
I’d wanted to do this for so long, and Morgan was so perfect right now, and besides, it’d sell the idea that we really were datingandserve Brad right for trying to embarrass him.
I should never have dragged Morgan into this, but I was so,soglad he was here to stay.
A wolf-whistle from Chris made me blush as I backed off. It’d been a chaste kiss by any standard, but as Morgan blinked and wet his lips, I couldn’t help feeling like it was one of the most intimate moments of my life.
… in front of a campfire surrounded by people.
As first moves went, that maybe wasn’t the most considered one I’d ever made.
But I’dmadeit, and I couldn’t take it back.
“I don’t get it,” Brad said dismissively. “Was this dude getting all mopey over a cloudy day?”
“The sun is his lover, dipshit,” Alex said without missing a beat, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sonnet thirty-three, right?”
Morgan nodded, shifting his weight, glancing at me and then turning his attention to Alex.
Crap. Had I done the wrong thing? Was he upset?
I couldn’t take it back. I’d kissed him, and we’d never even agreed to that, and now my heart was on display for everyone to see and Morgan wasignoringme. Worse, he’d looked at me like he was afraid I was going to do it again.
“Right,” Morgan agreed. “Shakespeare,” he added, which was good, because I’d been completely lost.
Why would he want me? I didn’t know it was Shakespeare and I couldn’t have guessed which sonnet it was and honestly, I hadn’t even picked up the lover thing.
All I’d really noticed was how beautifully Morgan said it.
“Since when doyouknow Shakespeare?” Chris asked Alex, clearly surprised.
“I minored in English.” Alex shrugged, picking at his gently-browned marshmallow.
“Morgan is a lit major,” I spoke up, wanting to at least make it clear that I paid attention, that I cared, that I thought that was important.
