They didn’t get much of a chance to talk over dinner. The restaurant Devon picked was crowded, but the table they shared was small enough that he could slip a hand beneath it and along Harry’s thigh every so often. His touch made the magician flustered at first, but by the end of the evening, Harry seemed emboldened and more self-assured. Whether it was the wine or the hand easing between his legs, he didn’t say. But as they left, Harry tucked Devon’s arm under his and led the way back to Devon’s car as if it were his.
It had grown late while they were in the restaurant, and the darkness between them in the car seemed vast. Devon kept one hand on Harry’s thigh, and Harry covered it with his own, but Devon didn’t know if he meant to stop it from creeping up closer to his crotch or just sav
