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David dropped beside him, the sound of rearranging limbs. A foot bumping his own.
“Bastet?” To Jonathan, not the kitten.
He paused. “Yes.” Another pause. “I like it.”
“Bastet! Bastet,” David called to the shadowy ball of fluff, following up with little kissy noises.
Jonathan dragged the band and—
A scamper. Claws.
He pulled further. A pounce.
David caught her and immediately curled into a sitting position, cradling her against his chest. Jonathan squeezed the band tight. At David’s glance, he held it out to him—
Bastet leapt for it immediately, paws outstretched, and David laughed.
“Both cheeky.”
Jonathan jerked his attention to the mess in the lounge and went to find the brush and shovel.
Dusk came with dinner and turned into dark. Today they had until midnight, a few hours left. No plan. Nothing seemed strong enough.
“The Sapphire twins are on fire,” David said. “George and Mira too. I can tell you right now, they’ll make it to the finals.”
He propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. Savvy kept throwing out ideas, but they were . . . generic. What could they bring to the challenge that only they could?
David groaned. “I need a drink.”
Jonathan snapped his head up. “I was a fool, I believe. I drank too much one night at the conference. You never told me what I did. Tell me now.”
“Millions of people will see, Jonathan . . .”
“It’s personal. My reactions will be genuine. That’s what we want, isn’t it?”
David gnawed his lip, unsure. But his eyes glittered with hope.
Jonathan had never been surer. He pushed his phone towards Savvy. “Film it.”
David lounged back in his seat, hair richly dark under the living room light. A shallow dimple appeared. For a moment Jonathan feared he’d shake his head, refuse, but O’Hara tapped fingers over the table and said, “What do you remember?”
“The U of couches and everyone’s eyes on you. You were discussing the theme for the challenge. Love. Everyone had opinions, George, the Sapphire twins, Mira. You questioned them all. You didn’t have one of your own.”
David glanced toward the windows reflecting their huddle at the dining table. “You didn’t believe me.”
“You knew I was there.”
“I always know when you’re there.”
David peered at his fingers paused on the table, pensive, and then a smile ghosted his lips. Jonathan sucked in a breath. “I grabbed another drink, you said you wanted me to like you again. I called you spoiled. I was wrong about that.”
“You drank a couple more glasses, then you looked at me and sauntered to the head of the U and told them all your opinion on what love really is.”
Jonathan blinked. “I, what?”
Green eyes sparkled, teasing. “Keep in mind, we all knew you were drunk and probably didn’t mean it so . . . solemnly.”
“What did I say?”
“Love is balancing on a thin wire bridge. It’s a long way down, the river below is a violent current. One misstep and it will rip you apart. You want him to hurry to safety. You want him to stay and tell you he’ll catch you if you fall.”
Silence. After a swallow. “Word for word?”
David smiled softly. “I’m not likely to forget.”
“I . . . see. Please tell me I crawled to bed after that?”
A smirk. “You walked around patting everyone’s head, telling them to breathe through the pain, they must find their happily ever after.”
“And then I crawled to bed.”
A short laugh. David swallowed and tapped his fingers again.
“David?”
“You said goodnight and . . . you didn’t crawl. George and I carried you.”
Later, after Savvy turned in, the question of where David would sleep lapped silently between them.
David was reading Plato at the other end of the couch while Jonathan tapped at his novel. The words were flowing easier now. He managed a few hundred each night, sometimes a thousand.
“So poignant. ‘A wise man speaks because he has something to say; a fool because he has to say something.’”
Jonathan stopped typing.
“. . .”
Toes dug into his thigh. “What was that look for?”
Typing resumed. “A wise man wouldn’t need to ask.”
More wriggling feet; Plato fell to the floor and spilling from its pages was a dried, pressed rose.
David quickly scooped it up, tenderly slipping the rose back inside.
Jonathan stared. He clapped the laptop shut, set it aside and stood, pulling a laughing, quivering David to his feet.
“Bedtime.”
David shifted and tossed out, teasingly, “Only if I’m sleeping with you.”
“Yes.”
His smile snapped off like a light. “I was just joking.”
“No, you weren’t. I’m not either.”
Jonathan pulled him to the bedroom, footsteps padding over floorboards and rugs. He shut the door behind them. The curtains were open, overlooking a fence and high silhouetted shrubs. One lamp rippled silky light in ever-darkening circles through the room.
David hovered between the drawers and the bed. “Oh, by the way, I had an idea. If we get through this challenge, we’ll be flying to Greece next week; I was thinking maybe Savvy would like to come along? Jacquie too, of course. To keep them company. It won’t be any cost to you, I have these vouchers from working with Qantas—”
