Chapter 35

Blake uncovers my eyes. The penthouse suite's living room has been transformed into a romantic eatery for two. A small buffet cart sits beside the table set up next to the grand window. I walk over to it with a growing flutter deep within my stomach.

A bottle of chilled champagne rests inside an ice bucket, and a single rose lays across my plate. Blake moves behind me, sliding his hands around my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder, kissing the nape of my neck.

"What do you think?" he whispers.

"What's all this for?"

"I selected a date that represents two things," he murmurs. "So you can choose whichever you like better."

I smirk, waiting for him to continue.

"One, this can be a congratulations dinner of all the hard work you've put in the last few weeks. The new store is well on its way, and its start-up wouldn't have been a success without you."

I think back over all the meetings and interviews Blake crammed into our days. Sometimes the meetings felt unbearable, but truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way. Each day spent here, in Florida, was one more day that I got to be beside Blake – working beside him during the day, and sleeping beside him at night.

And don't even get me started on the sex. It started out as painful and uncomfortable, with the promise of pleasure just around the corner. Now the pain has subsided, and what is left is ecstasy. Plain and simple.

Come to think of it, all my time spent with him is pure ecstasy. It's not like I've had a shitty life up until this point, because I haven't. There's been plenty of good memories and great people that have come into my life before him. Still, my memories of the past don't compare to now.

I have never been this happy – in my entire life. And it's all thanks to him.

So you can imagine my disappointment when he informed me a few days ago that our work here is pretty much done. In a few days we'll be packing up our belongings and heading home. It's not that I don't want to go home, either. It's just the irrational fear that things might be different when we leave this haven. Perhaps the thought of being without him every night is starting to settle in, too.

My shoulders slump just thinking about, so I clear my throat and push the thoughts away.

"What's the other option?"

"Ah, the other option," Blake says, kissing my earlobe. "Is to celebrate our one-month anniversary."

A blush creeps onto my cheeks. It's been a month already. It feels like it went by overnight, while at the same time feeling like we've been together far longer. I elbow Blake from behind me, and he laughs lightly into my ear.

"You're so gay," I say and roll my eyes, hiding my secret joy that he remembered.

"That I am," he agrees proudly. "And only for you."

The playful confession makes my chest tighten with undiluted happiness. Blake hugs me tighter to him and lowers his voice.

"So what'll it be?"

I wiggle out of his hold, picking up the rose on my plate and twirling it like a drum stick. "I'll save my final opinion until after the night plays out. Gotta' keep my options open."

This time it's Blake who rolls his eyes, a trait he very quickly has picked up from me. He shakes his head and nods for me to take a seat. He used to always pull my chair out for me, but after realizing how feminine it made me feel, he's slowly letting up. Key word on slowly.

I take a seat and pull up to the table. Blake pushes the cart beside me, opening the various dishes, and allowing me to serve myself first. My eyes scour the bowls and dishes of food. Then my blush deepens as I realize nothing on here is the typical fancy shit we eat.

No, instead it's all food I like.

There's a platter of pizza, a plate full of burgers, and even a bowlful of French fries. Blake looks at me with a hopeful gaze, waiting to see my reaction.

If he could see inside me, he'd witness a wave of love crashing onto my emotional shore. Except this one feels more like a tidal wave. I don't know what to say without blurting out that potent "L" bomb, so I take a slice of pizza and stuff the first bite into my mouth.

Blake's shoulders relax. He's pleased at my reaction, as small as it might be. This makes me love him even more. He picks up a burger for himself and takes a seat across from me. True to form, he carefully picks off the top bun before placing two pickles – side by side – across the burger. Then he reaches for the condiments and squirts on an outer circle of ketchup onto the patty. He puts on the finishing touches with an inner ring of mustard.

For some reason it makes me feel good to know what he likes on his burger. I'm not sure why. That's the weird thing I'm learning about love, though.

The more I learn about Blake, the harder I fall. The harder I fall, the more I want to learn about him. To know about him. Intense cycle, right? Tell me about it.

"Thanks," I say through a mouthful of pizza. "For this."

Blake grins and takes a bite of his sandwich. "You're welcome, Callum. It was long overdue."

My stomach flutters hearing him call me by name. He says it affectionately now, each time meaning more than the last.

"We haven't had a lot of time to sit down and just enjoy each other's company," Blake adds, shaking his head with remorse. "I'm sorry for that. We've been so busy, and whenever we do get free time..."

"You can't get me naked fast enough?" I finish with a smug grin.

Blake sighs. "In my defense, I spent a lot of time lusting after you. I'm merely making up for lost time."

I toss my pizza crust on the plate and reach for another piece. Blake watches my every moment, his gaze as welcome as it is exciting.

"That and you've never had such a hot man in your bed before," I say, flexing my free arm while simultaneously shoving a second piece of pizza in my mouth.

He chuckles. "As true as that may be, I wanted tonight to be about us - about us taking some time to talk and learn about each other."

I secretly have been craving this very same thing, but I roll my eyes at the idea. "Why?"

Blake sighs, running a hand through his thick hair. "I feel I robbed you of our dating period. We went from co-workers to a hot and heavy couple overnight. I'm trying to correct that. Starting now."

Another tidal wave of love crashes onto shore. I take a drink of water and lean back in my chair.

"Alright, boss man. What do you want to know?"

"Anything you're willing to tell me," he confesses. "The little details along with the big."

I shrug. "Ask away."

"Alright. What are you going to study in college?"

"Business. Next?"

Blake laughs. "Callum, this isn't an interview. C'mon. Throw me a bone, here."

I dust my hands off on my pant legs. He watches me do this, and his nostrils flare with irritation. It surfaces a question of my own.

"My turn," I say. "When did you become such a germophobe and neat freak?"

He grins proudly. "Since the ripe age of seven when I realized I could color coordinate my closet, alphabetize all my CD's, and dust off all the dirt from my shelves using a rag."

I roll my eyes. "Sounds fun."

"It was. My turn."

The two of us go back and forth all throughout our meal. Sometimes the questions get so ridiculous that both of us are left laughing so hard that tears stream down our faces. He admits at one point that he has an aversion to Milky Way's, because growing up he thought they were made with particles from the universe – and who would feel safe enough to eat that?

Other questions get a bit more serious.

I tell him about my mom. He pulls his chair around to the other side of the table to hold my hand. I tell him how gay he is, but all he does is smile with understanding. A short bit after that I find out Blake had a brother of his own – one he lost to a rare brain disorder when he was only twelve. It was a loss that tore his entire family apart.

The hours become lost to us. The food gets cold and the champagne gets warm, but we don't care. Blake was right; the non-sexual side of dating can be fun, too. And as much as I hate to admit it, the more I learn about him, the more I love him...just like I knew I would.

The city lights pour through the window, allowing our evening to continue without pause. My heart begins to swell with emotions I didn't know were possible to feel. Blake scoots his chair closer to mine and slips his arm around my shoulders.

There's a lull of silence between us, one that is filled with blissful content and comfort. Without thinking I lean into his touch, suddenly wishing I could make this moment last forever.

"Blake," I say before I can stop myself. "Do you love me?"

My eyes widen in disbelief. Did I just ask that? Out loud? I can feel myself stiffening in his arms, hating that I just added a new level of tension to such a beautiful moment. I want to take it back, stuffing the words back into my mouth, and swallowing them down whole.

But Blake does something to make that beautiful moment unforgettable.

His fingertips find their way to my chin, and he turns my face to meet his gaze. His expression is relaxed but serious.

"Yes," he answers. "I love you more than you will ever know."

Time feels like it's standing still. I want it say it in return. That I love him too. It's like the words are stuck in my throat, though. No – never mind, those are tears. I swallow again, trying to push them down.

Instead all that comes out is another question. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He smiles softly. "I wanted to wait until you were ready to hear them."

"And you think I am now?"

He leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. "Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because I think you love me too."

My heart feels like it might fly out of my chest. Blake tilts his head to the side, giving me the same look of curiosity as the first day he met me amongst the hangers and raincoats. This time, though, the curiosity is just on the surface, and beneath it are layers of lust – and love – that can't be erased.

I nod in confirmation. "I do."

Blake pulls me close to him, hugging me tighter than he ever has before. He nuzzles his nose against my cheek before bringing his lips to my ear.

"You're so gay," he whispers playfully, mocking my earlier words.

He says it because he knows how I get with emotional conversations. He says it to try and ease our conversation back into lighter territory. He says it to show me once again he loves me.

So I show him I love him too.

I lower my voice, mimicking his with a serious face. And even though I'm adding onto his joke, the words I say in return have never felt more real. Or more true.

"That I am," I agree, proudly. "And only for you."