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“Told you,” Donovan says, and I stifle a laugh.
Jason cocks his head. “Told her what?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I slip my hands over his chest and nuzzle in. His nose feels cold against mine. “Are you going to show us inside or what?”
He grins. “Right this way, m’lady.”
He leads us to the lighthouse and opens the rounded door. The walls are blue stone, and when we go inside, it’s not much warmer than outside. Probably something to do with the fact that there’s no ceiling—just a winding staircase that goes around and around until it gets to the top. There are lanterns on the walls, which gives the place a golden glow, and they illuminate old maps of Hannsett Island and mounted descriptions of the history and inner mechanics of the lighthouse.
“No chance they installed an elevator?” Donovan asks, sizing up the winding staircase.
“Last one to the top is a muskrat,” Jason says and launches toward the stairs.
We dash up, my heels clicking, their shoes slapping. The staircase is narrow, old, and I grip the railing and try to avoid the vertigo of all the turns. Finally, we get up to a landing, and Jason uses the key to unlock a door. It takes us outside again, this time onto a small platform. I know I shouldn’t, but I lean over the iron railing and look down—we’re four, maybe five stories up, but it feels taller since I can see past the snow-coated ground, down the cliff, where the waves churn below.
The railing is so cold, it hurts to touch it, but the thought of plummeting down makes me grip it hard.
“Right behind you,” Donovan says, as though he can smell my fear. His hand touches my side, and the solidness of his touch relaxes me enough to keep moving forward.
It’s a small climb into the glass cavern of the overlook. Jason takes my hand to help me step up. It feels like being in a fishbowl. Curved windows line the walls, giving a panoramic view of Hannsett Island. I’m sure it looks beautiful in the daytime, but at night it’s mostly just dark—save the ever-glowing hum of the medical center, the green and red lights blinking in the water, and the burst and explosion of color that fills the sky every couple of minutes.
In the middle sits the eye of the lighthouse—the giant lantern. For something so old, it looks almost futuristic; it has panels of glass, one layered over the other, like ripples receding from the center. The light itself isn’t lit, but there are tiny floodlights that surround it, and crystal shards of light bounce off the lantern, scattering rainbows across the floors and ceiling.
“Looks like you were right,” Jason tells me. “It’s way cooler up here.”
“It really is beautiful,” I agree.
For a second, the three of us just stand there, watching the explosion of lights. The reflection of the fireworks lights up their faces—Jason, grinning, as happy as a kid at a candy store. Donovan, quiet, contented.
I want to hold on to this moment forever.
“There is one more thing…” Jason says.
“How can there be more?”
He moves behind the lantern and pulls at a latch on the floor. A hatch opens up, and then Jason vanishes down it.
“Come on!”
I glance at Donovan, but he shrugs, as clueless as I am.
I follow Jason down the staircase and gasp when I see what’s underneath. “You’ve got to be kidding me—”
Down the spiral staircase is a suite. Wooden cabinets, a king-sized bed, velvet red carpet on the floors. A mermaid sculpture hangs above the bed, her red hair wild and untamed. On the bed: plush pillows, a quilt, and a purple stuffed whale. Although the lighthouse itself is old, this room has clearly been renovated sometime in the past five years. It’s even warm in here, and I can finally take down my hood.
“Is this for us?” I ask.
“We’ve got it all night,” Jason says, then adds, “If you want it.”
There’s an octagonal window that’s nearly as tall as I am. Outside, a firework sizzles out, dripping like a chandelier, and the reflection cascades across the flat, dark water.
“Is this a big, dramatic ploy to get me to forgive you?” I ask.
“No,” Jason says. “This is a big, dramatic ploy to get you to sleep with me.”
That sends a shiver through me. His lips connect with my throat. I feel the heat of his mouth, and I melt into his kiss as his arms wind around me so he can simultaneously unbutton my coat. It falls away, and I press my palms flat against the glass in front of me.
A familiar pair of fingers loops through mine, pinning me down. Donovan’s leather band kisses my wrist. Excitement whips through me and I squeeze his fingers tighter, keeping him to me.
