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Andrew squeezed his eyes shut, and a dark red colored his cheeks.

Edwin’s chest constricted as sympathy and fondness slammed into him with the force of a railcar. He walked over to Andrew, stopping when he was only a foot or so away. Hesitantly, he reached for Andrew’s hand.

“Do you want to sit together?” he asked.

“Can we keep holding hands?” Andrew inquired in return. Huffing a laugh, Edwin nodded. Andrew laughed some more as well. “Then, yes.”

They walked over to the sofa and sat. Edwin rubbed the back of Andrew’s hand with his thumb. And then Andrew reciprocated.

“Thank you for coming with me to the city,” Andrew said. “I’m really glad you were able to take the time away from the conservatory.”

“Me too,” Edwin replied.

“How did you manage that?”

“I asked one of the other servants to check on the plants while we were gone. Since it’s winter, there’s not as much needed for their care. I thought they’d be fine for a while. But, Jesus, I hope the man managed all right. I think the Whitneys might kill me if I murdered their plants.”

“I’m sure he managed fine,” Andrew said warmly.

Andrew’s eyes wandered to Edwin’s forehead, and Edwin squirmed.

“Am I a mess?” he asked.

“Only a little.”

Andrew let go of Edwin’s hand. After a pause, he reached over to touch Edwin’s forehead, and when his thumb smoothed over Edwin’s skin, no doubt wiping away some of the soot, Edwin’s heart stuttered.

“Jesus, Edwin, you’re so handsome,” Andrew said through an exhale.

Heat rushed to Edwin’s cheeks. Handsome. He could hardly believe that Andrew thought he was handsome. Andrew’s thumb slid lower, and it came to rest on Edwin’s chin.

“Can I kiss you?” Andrew asked.

Fear flooded Edwin’s veins, and Andrew’s warm, lingering touch made him shiver. Words caught in his throat, and he couldn’t manage to reply, though his eyes fell to Andrew’s lips. He did want to kiss Andrew. He wanted it so much. But kissing could lead to more than kissing, which could then lead to—

Quickly, Andrew removed his hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Every one of those worries left Edwin’s head the moment he saw the regret in Andrew’s eyes, and he immediately caught Andrew’s wrist. Andrew stilled for a moment. Edwin shifted his hand, straightening his palm, and Andrew then copied. They pressed their palms together.

“Andrew, I do want you to kiss me,” Edwin said. “But I’m nervous. I’ve never kissed anyone before. Except for William. But we were nine, and I pushed him in the mud afterward.”

Andrew began to laugh. “You kissed William?!”

“He kissed me!” Edwin said, now laughing too. “And we were nine!”

It was several seconds before the two men could compose themselves, and then they both lowered their hands.

Andrew said, “I’ve never kissed anyone, either. Does that help?”

“Somewhat.” Edwin frowned. “But our kissing can’t lead to . . . more than kissing. Not now. And probably not . . . ever.”

“Oh.” Andrew chewed on his very-kissable lips for a moment. “Well, I never thought I’d find something like this. So, uhm, only kissing is very much fine with me. Actually, what we have now is more than fine, too, if—if you think that even might be too frightening or overwhelming or . . . something. And I-I promise I won’t be upset if that’s the case. I like sitting here together. It’s perfect. Really.”

Letting his eyes fall to his lap, Edwin took a moment to sit with Andrew’s comforting words. And he considered his options.

It only took a few beats of his racing heart to make a choice.

Looking up through his lashes, Edwin said, “I want you to kiss me, Andrew,” with more resolve and confidence than he’d ever thought he could muster.