I have an early shift today; Kent needs me to meet the delivery truck and put out some new, more fall-appropriate plants. We update the displays when the seasons change, and redesign day is coming up soon. It turns out different every time, a team effort between Kent, Destinee, and me.

I always like working up a new design, and once I have the fresh plants stored where they should be, I dig a notebook out of my bag and stand at the counter with a pencil, sketching.

When I’m done, I have a little menagerie of animals in fall clothing: a fluffy fox with a patterned shawl, an owl with a green scarf, a mouse with mittens, and a bunny with a steaming cup of cider in its paws. I could probably make them all out of dried flowers and plants, set them up in the window like a tiny autumnal town. Might need to use some cotton balls and yarn. It’s one idea.

Kent usually likes us to come up with a few, but I hesitate, my pencil pressed to the page. I lap the shop, snipping a few leaves and flowers from the new fall plants, then pin them into my notebook for inspiration. It doesn’t help.

I’m distracted.

I’m thinking about what happened at the Bratton Collection after I passed out, and how Aiden was yesterday when I woke up. And that book he left at my place. Whoever thought that Aiden would end up bringing more poetry into my life than there was before?

Once, when Kasey was still in New York, she had called me from Westside Market, where she was picking up some groceries. She wanted to tell me about the class she’d just come from. It was an architectural history class - the one that she and Milo had together.

“Interesting first day. I liked the introduction that the professor gave.”

“What did she say?” I’d asked.

“That you can tell what was valued most highly in a society by which building is the biggest. That’s why in a Medieval town, the biggest building is the cathedral. In a 17th century city, it would be the political palace. In a modern city, it’s usually a financial office building. Whatever it is, it’s always the biggest thing in the place, and always at the center of the city. That’s how you know.”

When Aiden told me that I build beautiful things, I’d thought - we’re building beautiful things, together.

This thing we’re building, it’s still brand new. The foundations go deep, but it's right at the beginning of its construction.

And yet… I’m starting to think it’s the biggest thing in my heart. Right at the center, just like Kasey said.

I wish that Aiden didn’t have work today. I miss him, ridiculous though it sounds. My shift is almost over, so maybe I’ll go to City Hall and see him. Or is that coming on too strong, just showing up because I miss him? Yeah, probably.

I kind of want to do it anyway, though.

The bell over the shop door jingles, and I look up.

Aiden steps inside, letting in a gust of wind and raindrops. He’s in his jeans, and that black crewneck I like so much on him. The grey snapback, today. His broad shoulders are damp from the persistent drizzle.

He shuts the door after himself, fixing me with a warm smile. “Hi.”

“Hi!” I straighten up, surprised. Aiden crosses to the counter and rests his elbows on the glass. “What’s going on, did City Hall close? Another flood? Don’t tell me that we time-traveled again and destroyed another sports car-”

“Jamie,” he laughs, “I took a personal day. That’s all.”

“Oh. I thought you were saving all of those up for the heist?”

“Yeah, but…” Aiden gathers my hand into his. “Here’s the thing. It really sucked not getting to talk to you at all for thirty straight hours, and… I thought, since you had an early shift, you might want to - take the rest of the day and hang out? We could go to the Ghost Office and practice for the heist, or just… I don’t know. Whatever.” He clears his throat, and ducks his chin. “But, if you’re too busy, or not up to it-”

“No, that sounds perfect,” I tell him, delight welling up in my chest. “I was just thinking - yeah, let’s definitely do that. I have a half-hour left in my shift, though.”

“That’s okay. Cool if I hang out till you’re done?”

“Sure, I’m just kicking around ideas for our fall design. For the window display.”

Aiden notices the pencil threaded through my fingers. He turns my notebook to face him, then looks down at the menagerie of forest creatures in their fall clothing that I drew. I’m suddenly embarrassed of it, and I gear up to say several things - it’s not good enough, it’s only my first idea, hang on a second - but Aiden smiles, and looks up at me.

“Little mouse.” He taps that drawing, then taps my nose.

I wink at him. “Fox.”

He laughs, and the sound of it is perfect, and another brick gets added to this building going up in my heart.

~~~~

The rain takes a break, stretches, yawns, and starts up again. Aiden and I pass easy hours at the Ghost Office. We came here on the pretense of practicing for the heist, but we end up doing very little of that.

Aiden moves the glass bottles and jars out of the way so I can perch on one of the workbenches. We talk about nothing important, snacking on some fruit that he brought for us: orange slices and blueberries. The rain is making it dark outside much earlier than scheduled, and though Noah has fixed the power, Aiden makes a bunch of those magic lights that I like. They drift up into the ceiling, then float back down to hover around us.

When the rain slows to a drizzle again, Aiden suggests that we go on a walk along the river, like we did after we nearly turned the Ghost Office into one big pile of ash. I hop down from the workbench, let him take my hand and lead me out into the cloudy fall afternoon.

Mist trails over the river, kissing its glassy surface. Pale sunshine works its way through the clouds, sifting through the grey-green branchlets of the juniper trees. Glimmering on the mossy pebbles of the riverbank. Aiden and I walk slowly, taking long breaths of frosty air, weaving around the tall trunks of the pine trees.

One thing I like about fall is that you can taste winter, what’s waiting to come next. Dusk and twilight growing longer. Harvest moons, russet midnight skies. Messages from the future. But today I’m not thinking about what’s ahead, only what’s happening right now.

Aiden and I let autumn wrap its arms around us. Aiden, in turn, wraps his arm around me.

I look at the rainy landscape, and I look at Aiden, and I think: don’t forget this. Not one single moment of it. Live it now, so that it lives in your head, later. I want to remember every precious minute I get to spend with Aiden.

Suddenly I feel like I can’t not talk to him about this.

“Hey.” I squeeze his fingers. “Do you remember, at the start of summer, the first time you asked me to hang out? When we went to City Hall and looked at the photos?”

He ruffles my hair. “Yeah, of course.”

“You said that in high school, you didn’t think of yourself as a romantic, because the high school experience gave you a lot of wrong ideas about love, and romance, and reciprocity.”

“Yeah?”

“Was that true?” I ask. “Or… was it your mom, who gave you those ideas?”

Aiden looks down at me, surprised, and I quickly pin on: “I'm sorry. Should I not have-? Your aunt told me a little bit about it.”

“You're fine, I just didn't expect - you usually preface questions like that with can I ask you something.”

“Yes, but this... I need to know.”

“Okay…” Aiden gives me a strange look, then thinks over his answer. “I… yes. You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied about it, but we had only just started hanging out, and I-”

“Don’t be sorry. I understand.” I trace my thumb over his fingers. “But you also said - you said that you do consider yourself a romantic now. That you changed your mind about it because you figured out that it’s okay to write your own rules.”

“Right.”

“So - the stuff that your mom told you about love… do you still think that? That - because of your magic, no one could really…?”

Aiden looks at me, then quickly glances away again. “Where are you going with this?”

What did you say to me that night, when you knew I couldn’t hear you? When you knew I couldn’t answer?

“Nowhere, I… I’m just asking. Do you still think that?”

We walk in silence for a few paces, while Aiden considers his answer.

“I... don’t know," he finally says. "My idea of what’s possible is changing all the time, ever since you let me back into your life."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my heart stumbling over itself.

"Like… I thought there was no chance you would ever trust me, after all the shit I put you through. Not completely, at least. I thought there would always be lingering doubts in your mind. So - what you did at the Bratton Collection…” He meets my eyes again. “That changed what I thought was possible.”

“I do completely trust you, Aiden,” I answer immediately. He fixes me with one of those signature Aiden smiles, the heartstopping one that’s all soft and warm and unguarded. My heart is pounding so hard. “Do you - do you trust me?”

Aiden draws us to a stop beneath a cluster of young cottonwood trees, the leaves turned their autumn shade of smoky gold.

“Of course I do,” he says, smoothing his thumb down the side of my cheek. “You don’t know that? I guess I should have said it.”

Jesus Christ. It means so much to me, to hear him say it.

“Well - I should have said it to you, too.” I tip my face up to Aiden's, and he bends to brush his nose along mine.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs. “Your energy is so nervous, it’s jumping all over the place. Is something wrong?”

I pull back and meet his eyes, but his sweet blue gaze is so damn disarming, and he’s right, I am nervous. I was nervous even before he looked at me like this. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it, in fact.

All my words fail me at once, but I need to communicate this, and if I can’t do it by talking, well - there are other ways.

I slip my hand around the back of Aiden's neck and pull him down to me. I really want this kiss to say something, so I’m going to take my time and get it exactly right.

Slowly, I put my lips to his. The barest brush, more a mingling of our breaths than a kiss. At the same time, I work my fingers into his hair, also very slowly. Aiden, who was smiling and playful, ready to enjoy himself - seems to realize right away that this is something different. His eyelashes flutter as I trace my fingertips along his jaw, the same way I’m touching his lips: so light, it could be imagined. I feel him go completely still, feel his heartbeat begin to pick up.

I hold us in that stasis for a moment. The rain sifts down on us. Aiden’s breath starts coming faster; he spreads his hands on my back, and holds me. I pull him down and let him sink completely into the kiss, which turns long and deep, but stays slow and deliberate.

I do everything I know he likes. I close my teeth on his bottom lip. I slip my tongue into his mouth and taste him: citrusy-sweet, from the orange we shared. And when I bring the kiss to a close, I press a soft, gentle one to the corner of his mouth. Punctuation, before I pull back.

I catch Aiden’s gaze and hold it with mine. Based on his expression, I definitely got something across to him, and apparently it’s left him momentarily speechless. His pupils are gigantic, his eyes two black pools with the tiniest line of blue around the edge. He tips his head to the side, like he’s listening to something.

I don’t know what my energy sounds like to him now, but my guess is that nervous isn’t the word for it.

We both startle as the rain suddenly picks up, turning from a drizzle to a downpour. I twist to look out over the river. Swirling black clouds are on the horizon, barrelling quickly towards us. The first of the wild autumn storms that Ketterbridge gets.

Aiden grabs my wrist.

We run most of the way to the Ghost Office. We were already on our way back, and there wasn’t too far to go, but we’re both drenched by the time we stagger inside. The storm has turned the afternoon even darker. Good thing Aiden’s magic lights are still swimming lazily around above us.

It’s surprisingly and pleasantly warm in the Ghost Office, which doesn’t make sense until I remember who I’m here with. Someone getting very good at magical temperature management. We kick off our shoes and socks, which immediately form a little puddle by the workbenches.

“Jesus!” I slick my dripping hair out of my face. “I’m fucking soaked!” I pull off my jacket and flannel, then glance at Aiden, who is lowering the Ghost Office door, closing it against the onslaught. “Oh, god. You’re soaked, too. Why do we always end up like this?”

Aiden doesn’t answer. The second the door is shut, he straightens up, tears off his snapback, and flings it at the workbenches. He crosses directly to me. Without breaking his stride, he closes his arms around me and backs me all the way up against the Ghost Office wall. He tips my head back, and I just barely have time to take a breath before his mouth is pressed to mine.

The rain pounds on the roof, and Aiden kisses me like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do.

My limbs turn all melty, my cheeks burning red, and it’s all I can do to keep myself upright. I sink into his arms, dazed, the heat between us gathering so fast that I’m surprised the rain isn’t steaming right off of my skin.

Aiden’s mouth slips to my neck. I cling to his shirt, and he braces one hand on the wall over my head, using the other to keep me pressed to him, his fingers against my spine.

The whole experience sends a shock of feeling through my body, and I shiver.

“Aiden.” My voice is breathless to the point of sounding like a whisper. He doesn’t answer, but I know he’s listening. “Please don’t stop, this time.” I press my lips to his ear as I speak, stroking my fingers through his wet hair. “We don’t have to do everything, but I just - I want you so bad, I can’t-”

I freeze as he wrenches himself free from my grasp and takes a step back. I'm struck with the instant fear that I crossed some boundary, but then I realize his eyes are closed, his hands balling into fists. He’s trying to concentrate, trying to control his magic.

It doesn’t work. I gasp as every single glass jar and bottle on the Ghost Office workbenches explodes at once.

Before I can even process what happened, Aiden flings a hand out. The splintered glass freezes in place, suspended in the air behind him like someone hit pause on the explosion. A great, glittering mosaic. The light from his magic fireflies kaleidoscopes through the colorful glass.

For a moment, neither of us says anything. The glass hovers in the air, motionless. Aiden’s chest is rising and falling hard and fast.

“Aiden?” I whisper.

His eyes open. They’re burning, with magic, but also something else.

He tosses his head at the loft.

“Get. In. The. Bed,” he manages, through clenched teeth. “Now.”