Page 34 of Free Me

When we’re finally seated at the small kitchen table, with plates of fruit and omelets, I watch Stef take their first bite. They moan and close their eyes, pressing a hand to their chest. “Oh my gods Blake. This is amazing!” I covertly adjust myself, glad that they like the food. “So, about this gala, I’ve been thinking.”

I probably should be used to the subject-change-whiplash by now. Hiding my smile behind my coffee mug, I prepare myself for whatever has popped into Stef’s mind. “Yeah?”

“I could run some outfits by you. You know, pictures and things, and you could let me know if they’re dressy enough for the event. On the day of the gala, I’ll have my choice of outfits depending on how I’m feeling. Would that be okay?”

Their excitement is adorable, and I’m so glad I asked them to come with me. “That sounds perfect. I’m sure it’ll take the stress out of it for you.”

They nod. “Exactly.” Then Stef pauses and their cheeks flush. “That is, if you still want me to go with you.”

I grab their hand and squeeze. “Sweetheart, I’m absolutely sure I want you there with me. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to come.”

Their smile is brilliant, and it lights me up inside. “Okay then. It’s a date.” They rest their head on my shoulder. “So, what are our plans for today?”

I kiss their nose, excited that they want to stick around and not rush off. “Our plans?”

“Well, unless you have something else you’re doing. Or you just want me out of your hair.”

“I most definitely want you here, and I have no plans.” Stef raises an eyebrow, and I cave. “Okay. I was going to work, but I’d much rather hang out with you. So, what do you want to do?”

They get up and stack the dirty plates. “Let’s clean up the kitchen and think about that. I’ll have to go back to my apartment. I cannot possibly wear this in public.” They gesture to the too-large sweatpants and the Blanton’s T-shirt. Seeing them in my clothing—especially that shirt—makes something warm and possessive bubble up in me. “But after that we can decide what to do, or where to go.”

I grab them around the waist and pull them into my lap, kissing them softly on the lips. “It’s a date.”

14

Stef

Ipullmycarinto the parking space behind my apartment, and Blake follows right behind me, somehow managing to maneuver his SUV through the narrow alley without a scratch. He’s suggested driving together and leaving my car at his house, but I knew if I did that, I’d be tempted to stay for a bit when we got back. A then bit would turn into a while, which would probably lead to another overnight, and evenIknow too much of a good thing—even if that good thing isme—might not be the best idea. This romance is moving quickly, and although it feels right, and neither of us is freaking out about that, there’s no point in tempting fate. Plus, I have laundry to do. Boring. But still important.

Before my nerves get the better of me, I hop out of my car and wave for Blake to follow. Punching my code into the lock, I push through the old oak door into the brightly lit stairwell, breathing in the jasmine and lavender from the wiccan shop at the front of the building. “My apartment’s right up there.” I trot up the narrow polished oak stairs and across the small landing to my front door, slide my key into the lock, then step back so Blake can go in.

He doesn’t even try to hide his curiosity, walking down the short hallway to peer into the three rooms that make up the entire apartment. “So, this is me.” I scooch past him and step into the tiny galley kitchen. It’s barely big enough for the two of us, but it’s bright and clean, with black and white tiled flooring, white appliances and cupboards, and a rectangular wooden table for two. “Kitchen. Nothing much to talk about. It’s basic and barely big enough to make coffee in, but it works for me.” I scrunch up my face. “I’m not big on cooking, anyway.”

He chuckles and backs out of my way so I can step into the hall. “The bathroom.” I point to the door directly to my left. “Nothing exciting there either.” It’s your typical apartment bathroom with black and white tile on the walls and floor, a full bathtub and shower combination, a toilet and a white porcelain pedestal sink. Again, nothing fancy, but it’s clean, and it all works.

I step a few paces into the only other room in the apartment. “And this is everything else.” ‘Everything else’ is a twenty-by-fifteen-foot bedroom-living room combo. My ever-growing collection of Venetian masks covers one long wall, and two enormous gold leaf framed mirrors cover the other. They were already here when I rented the place, probably because the previous tenant didn’t want the hassle of moving them. A large bookcase packed with my favorite books is in one corner, and small wrought iron shelves with candles of varying sizes and colors fill the empty spaces. The floors are original hardwood, and I’ve covered them with several replica oriental rugs I got on clearance. Tucked into the far corner is my wrought iron queen-size canopy bed, with hunter green privacy curtains, an antique oak dresser I bought at a second-hand shop, and a small matching vanity where I keep my wigs and makeup. In the opposite corner is an old brown leather sofa, one leather wingback chair and an oak coffee table. “It’s tiny, but it suits my purposes. I’m not here a lot and when I am, it’s only me, so it’s enough.”

Blake takes my hand and pulls me against him, wrapping me in a comfortable embrace. “I like what you’ve done with it. You’ve made it feel so warm and cozy.” I may sigh just a bit as I snuggle against him, relieved he hasn’t judged the place too harshly. He gestures to the masks. “Have you been to Venice?”

“No. I’ve never been out of North America. But I’ll get there someday.”

He looks around the room in a dreamy sort of way, like he’s imagining Venice. “It’s beautiful there. Maybe not in the idealistic way a lot of Americans imagine. But it’s full of life and feels real, lived-in like places here never do. And the architecture is stunning. Trust me, I know more about that than I’d like. Don’t go on a vacation with Tadhg if you don’t want to learn all about the architecture of the city you’re in.”

His smile is fond, and it softens in a way that pulls at my heart. “You two are incredibly close, even with the age gap.”

“We are. And no one is more surprised by that than me. It all could have gone much differently.”

Blake has my full attention. Tadhg doesn’t share much about his childhood and I respect his privacy, so I don’t ask. “In what way?”

He smiles wryly. “I came home over Thanksgiving break to find I had a six-year-old deaf stepbrother and a brand-new stepmother living there.”

I gawp. “I’m sorry, what?”

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. I was eighteen and in my first semester of college. I guess my dad had been dating Mia over the summer, keeping it low-key, and I was too busy with my friends to notice. After I went off to school, my dad married Mia and forgot to mention it. I came home to that surprise.”

“Wait, he justforgot? And holy moly! What wasthatlike? I mean, that could be an uncomfortable age difference.”

“Do you mean between Mia and me or Tadhg and me?”