Page 77 of Totally Fanatic

Lion really was the driving force on this whole thing. Sure, it started out as my dream, but if I had never met him, would I ever have had the confidence to actually do it? I don’t know. He was so excited to help me with everything from day one, he just wholeheartedly believed it would be real and now it almost is.

We prepped all the food for tonight’s tasting yesterday, and got up super early at about four, to start smoking, before taking turns keeping an eye on it while also running back here to make the sides.

“I thought we had already decided on our top four mac and cheese recipes for dinner tonight,” Lion says, pulling out the last triangle block and placing it next to the six others on the counter.

“There are just so many variations of cheeses, how do we know there isn’t a better version if we don’t try them?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that. Do you want me to start grating the hard ones into bowls?”

“Yes, please. Just remember to keep the labels with them so we know what is what.”

He opens one of the packages, and he scrunches up his nose in the most adorable way.

“I don’t think we’ll forget what this one is, woah. Hopefully, the smell goes away when it’s melted.”

“Actually, I think it gets stronger,” I laugh, and he gags a little, then wraps the block back up.

“I don’t think we can do this one.”

“Pop it back in the bag. We can’t have you gagging when everyone is trying to eat.”

“But you love when I gag,” he jokes, and I toss a cherry tomato at him, which he catches with ease and pops in his mouth.

“Back to work.”

“Yes, boss.”

As much as hearing him call me that at any other time would have me dragging him into the bedroom, we have people arriving soon. We moved the lounges along the wall of the rooftop, and then we brought up extra tables and chairs, and when I saywebrought up, I mean Lion and his friends, Beau and Levi. They will be coming tonight, too, along with Mouse, Mary Beth, Stuart, yes, he totally made friends with the guy who was an ass to him at the game, and for the first time ever, I’m finally meeting his brother, Buck.

The last few months have been so hectic with figuring out the smoker, finding us a truck and working on it in between playing Banana Ball all over the USA. Looking back, I really don’t know how we got here so fast. Actually, yes I do.

We got here because when Lion believes in something, or someone, anything is possible. Having him there in the crowd atalmost every game, cheering for me, and at the hotel every night cuddling into my side and sleeping against my chest, has made the last few months the best in my life.

When I’m with Lion, the world makes sense. That’s what being with him does to you. It makes you feel like you can fly, you can hit that home run, reach that star, achieve any dream, because he believes you can. His hope and trust and devotion is so pure, and it makes me love him even more.

Not that I’ve told him that yet.

That I love him.

I want to, and almost did when he got me the smoker, and then again when he pulled up in the alleyway like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, beeping the horn on the food truck he found and then blasting that classical music from the movie until I poked my head out the window. He even did the whole climb the fire escape thing. It was totally adorable. I should have said it then. It would have been perfect. But I chickened out, and since then, I’ve been trying to find the right time to say it. I can’t exactly just blurt out, “Hey, I love you,” while he’s gagging on stinky cheese, now can I?

“You could use it in the mashed potatoes,” he says, sliding the cheese over to me and opening up a deep orange block next. “You said you wanted it to have a bite to it, and that cheese definitely wants to jump up and take a chunk out of you.”

“That’s a really good idea,” I say, and a huge smile spreads across his face. I will never tire of seeing him happy. His whole face just radiates joy, like a kid who’s just come down to find a bunch of gifts waiting for them on Christmas morning.

“Really, you think it would work?”

“I think I had this mashed potato somewhere in LA that had blue cheese and bacon, and some other stuff in it. It was really good.”

“Maybe you can add chopped pickles, too. You love those?”

“Yes, and pickle juice.”

“Okay, now I will try the stinky cheese, but can you wait until I’m up on the roof to open it again?”

“Anything for you.”

“Really, anything?” he asks, scooting sideways to close the gap between us and wrapping his strong arms around my waist.

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