Page 68 of Loving You

The feeling sat heavy in his stomach as he made his way to the kitchen, but when he didn’t find Monty there, he shuffled into the living room and froze. The coffee table was gone, and on the floor was a nest of blankets and pillows. A handful of Styrofoam boxes sat in the center, along with what looked like a paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers and a round, puffy Squishmallow in the shape of some animal he didn’t immediately recognize. It was small and pink and looked very soft.

Monty stood off to the side, wringing his hands nervously. “The quickest food I could order was Greek—but they’re not authentic. They had pastitsio though.”

Bronx deflated, then crossed the distance and took Monty into his arms. “That sounds amazing. I don’t expect authentic here, sweetheart. But what is all this?”

“It’s…” Monty rubbed the back of his neck nervously, nearly dislodging Bronx’s grip on him. “I wanted to do something for you. Something nice. I…it’s. It’s silly, I know.” He trailed off on a long string of French Bronx couldn’t hope to understand.

To calm him down, he kissed him. First on the right cheek, then the left. Then the tip of his nose. He moved down to Monty’s jawline, his throat, and eventually up to his mouth. He took him in a lush roll of his tongue, tasting what was probably the dinner he’d attempted. It was spiced and rich and lovely.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” Bronx said very quietly.

“It’s not about need. It’s about wanting you to know that I…” Monty bit his lip, then stepped back and tugged Bronx toward the blankets. They sat in silence for a long moment before Monty found his words again. “You’ve been more than I’ve ever been brave enough to hope for. I told you I didn’t want more than what we had, but that very quickly became a lie. I’ve fallen for you.”

Bronx blinked. He swore someone swept the floor out from under him. “Oh.”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way. We had an agreement,” Monty rushed on. He picked up the flowers and the stuffed toy and shoved them at Bronx. “I want you to have this anyway. You deserve to have all the people in your life show you how much they love you.”

Bronx’s throat felt hot as he held the flowers and the little creature close. They felt too delicate for his rough hands, but he would rather die than let them go in that moment. “You weren’t the only one who broke the agreement,” he eventually said. He buried his nose in the flowers. There were lilies and daisies and some others he didn’t recognize. No one had ever gotten him a bouquet before. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted them until this moment.

“You…oh. Yes?” Monty asked.

Bronx set his things aside, then took Monty’s hands, squeezing his fingers. “I’ve known for a while. But I didn’t want to ruin this. I didn’t know if you’d cut it off if you knew how I felt, and I wanted to be selfish.”

Monty bowed his head. “Oh.”

“And before either of us make any real confession, you need to know your father came to my office today.”

Monty’s head shot up, his eyes wide, pupils narrow. “Hewhat?”

“He tried to pay me with his Black Card to stop seeingyou,” Bronx told him, not fighting it when Monty pulled away. “He asked me my price.”

Monty’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

“Obviously, I told him to go fuck himself,” Bronx said. “There’s something deeply wrong with him, and I’m so sorry you’ve had to put up with him for so long.”

Monty cleared his throat. “He’s never gone this far before.”

“Then he must really see me as a threat,” Bronx said. His cheeks went hot at his next confession. “I told him that I was going to make sure that once you cut him off, I’d keep you so happy you’d eventually forget what he looks like. And I know that wasn’t my place to decide for you. I’d never judge you if you kept him in your—mmfph!”

Before Bronx could finish, Monty was on him. He knocked them both to the floor, his kisses too frantic to be sexy, but Bronx let him work out his emotions while he lay there holding Monty against his body. Eventually, the moment settled, and Monty rested his full weight against Bronx’s chest.

“Sorry.”

“How do you say that in French?” Bronx asked.

Monty laughed, rubbing his face back and forth against Bronx’s pec. “You can just say désolé.”

“Mm. Well, I don’t want you to be sorry,” Bronx told him. He rubbed a hand up and down Monty’s spine. “You can pin me to the floor, or the bed, or the couch anytime you want.”

Monty’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he huffed, holding Bronx a little tighter. “I’m in love with you.”

Bronx’s entire body burned with an emotion he’d never felt before. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once. Heurged Monty to lift his face and took him by the chin, kissing him long and slow. “I’m in love with you too. I know this is fast. Like, scary fast, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it.”

“Me too.” Monty took a deep breath, then settled back down on top of him. “Is it okay if I don’t want to move for a little while?”

“Take as long as you need. At least, until tomorrow when I have to go back and finish working on that spicy little kitten.”

Monty laughed and kissed Bronx’s chest before his breathing started to even out. This was the best Bronx had felt in…maybe ever. At least since his son was born and he got to hold him in his arms for the first time. He was happy. Content. Head over heels. And right then, there was absolutely nothing about his life that he’d change.

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