John hadn’t considered it until now, but something inside him snapped at the thought of Brom thinking of him even during the excitement of his own engagement party, of Brom braving the cold night to seek him out. When Brom’s lips brushed his jaw, he didn’t – couldn’t – pull away.


Brom was breathing slowly but hard, and the scent of ale was on his breath, along with the sweet, autumnal smell of pumpkin pie. It was another reminder that he’d been torn away from the party, that they weren’t supposed to be here, alone together. But they were, and John felt himself drawn to Brom like a moon to its planet. Every inch of his body flooded with heat as Brom stepped close enough to press against him.