Soon, though, after I’d walked around the space two or three times, he approached me. “They creep me out a bit. I mean I think I get it. But I wouldn’t want one of these hanging in my home.”

I nodded. “They’re supposed to creep you out. But I know what you mean. I wouldn’t necessarily place one on my bedroom wall, to spot in the dark. Those bulbous heads aren’t for everyone.” I drifted off to Allegory of the Four Elements, but this time I looked back at him, beckoning him to follow me. He stood beside me, and I felt him watching me study the work.

“If you could buy any of these, and not put it on your bedroom wall, which would you?” he asked, almost in a whisper, his breath hot on my ear. I paused, so aware of his body adjacent to mine, wanting both to take his hand again and shove him away. Ask for space and lean into him.

“I have a reproduction of Rosie’s Tea Party that I’ve hung in the bathroom of my own apartment. It’s kind of an inside joke between my roommate and me. He hates it and it’s the first thing you see when you walk out of the shower. But that isn’t my favorite.” I twist around and head to the northern part of the gallery, around a corner and to one I’ve only allowed myself to look at once so far, so I could savor it later, spend several minutes lingering over it before we inevitably had to leave.

“This one. If I could buy any it would be this one.” He stood where I was, planted his feet next to mine and looked up, mimicking my perspective, the tilt of my head. We gazed at it together. Sophie’s Bubbles.

“Understood,” he said after a while, putting his hands in his pockets, leaning back to take in the canvas.

“You going to buy it for me?” I asked, turning to face him, this time watching him study the work.

He chuckled. “I don’t want to make any promises. But if that was your one wish, to touch this painting, I could probably make that happen for you.”

I smirked at his pomposity. “Is there anything you can’t do?” He stepped away from the painting, giving me a wide berth, and eyed me.

“Apparently get you to sleep over.”

I took his hand again and whispered, “Let’s go back now and we’ll see how long I stay.” I felt him shiver as my breath tickled his lobe. And we were off, into a cab, back to Brooklyn Heights.