30. Chase #2
I pull out one of my business cards and hand it to him. “Anytime. I can do commissions, too. Anything you’d like. Could even paint you a neon-soaked dickfest, if you wanted. Not Logan’s dick, though.”
Charlie lets out a deep, genuine laugh, and already I’m relieved that my sense of humor goes over well with him.
“You did well, my friend,” Charlie says to Logan, waggling his eyebrows. “He looks like that, he’s talented, and he’s funny?”
“I know,” Logan says. “Trust me, I know.”
“Maccan! Get your ass over here!” a woman in a ballgown says to Charlie and he gives us a wave.
“Find me at one of the tables later tonight. I’m talking art with your boyfriend, Stone!”
Once Logan and I are alone again, he smiles at me. “That’s Charlie. And yes, he’s always like that.”
“He’s great. Shit, I thought everyone here was going to be pretentious and have sticks up their asses, but he seems fun as hell.”
Logan nods as he pops a caprese appetizer into his mouth. “You’ll see a lot more of him, anytime you visit me in LA. He’s a great friend.”
I hum. “Oh, so you think I’ll be visiting you a lot in LA, huh?” I tease.
He glances up at me. “Damn well better be. How the fuck am I supposed to exist without you?”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually. The photography gig I’m going to interview for next week involves an amount of travel, because they work with historic buildings all around the country. Their main headquarters is in New York, but guess where their West Coast one is?”
“Is it really in LA?”
“It sure fucking is.”
His eyes glimmer, and he reaches out to squeeze my waist. “Chase.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I still don’t have the job, and even if I get it, I’d have to find out how much they have people travel between the coasts.”
He squeezes me a little harder, then lets me go. “Well, if you don’t get to do it a lot, then you have to accept me paying for your flights out. I know you hate taking money, but I have to see you.”
I nod at him. “Yeah. I know you do.”
More people start coming up to Logan, and the gala starts to get into full swing. The night becomes a blur of meeting people and getting excited every single time Logan introduces me as his boyfriend, because I guess that’s just how it’s always going to be, with him.
The night is full of mingling, and Logan lets me know who each person is, with tons of good details. I meet some of the writers who work on his show, and plenty of actors from other things, too.
So many photos are taken of us.
Some people even congratulate us, too, and lots of people wink at Logan about his photoshoot.
After hours of hanging around in the ballroom, Logan steals a moment to bring me outside onto the long balcony at the edge of the building.
String lights are hung along the edges of the balcony, and there’s an outdoor bar here too, where people are schmoozing and chatting.
But we find a quiet spot at the edge, looking out at the city.
“I couldn’t imagine doing this, even a few months ago,” Logan says to me. “I feel like I came out of a cocoon, or something, knowing you.”
I tap the little Luna moth painting on my suit. “I got one tattooed on me for a reason. They symbolize transformation. I think about cocoons all the time, actually. I’ve painted a butterfly emerging from one, too.”
I pull him close against me, and he rests his head on my shoulder for a moment. “I’m…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence.
I turn to press a kiss to his head, giving him a minute. “What’s up? You doing alright, baby?”
He hums, nuzzling a little closer against me for a moment before pulling back.
When he looks at me, I see the reflection of the city lights in his eyes. “I want to say words to you.”
I smile, puffing out a little laugh. “You say words to me all the time.”
“I know.”
“Even really pretty ones in an English accent, earlier.”
“I know, I know.”
I reach out and pull on his belt loop, and he lets out an exhale, his eyes dancing over my face. “I want to say very particular words, and I don’t know if they’re going to be too serious.”
An inkling of something stirs in my heart. “Oh yeah?”
He swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
My skin heats, like something’s warming me from the inside. “Maybe you should just, y’know, give it a try. I like serious things, sometimes. And I really like you.”
“Yeah.”
I bite back a smile. “You already said that.”
He looks down at his feet, then back up at me. “Chase.”
I reach down and grip his hand in mine. “Hi. You know, if you want, you can—”
“I love you,” he says forcefully, gripping my hand harder. And I feel like I’m in freefall. “I love you so much. You don’t have to say it back yet, but fuck, I just have to get it out of me. You’ve fucking changed my life, Chase. I love you so much I can’t stand it.”
I yank him forward against me, crushing my lips to his. “I love you,” I say in a muffled murmur against his lips. “Fuck, Logan, I’ve been thinking it every day like I can’t get it out of my head. I love you so much.”
He puffs out an exhilarated sound, something between an exhale and a laugh. “Oh, God, it’s going to be so much easier to just say it now.”
“Tell me about it, baby. I already fell in love with you a long fucking time ago.”
I kiss him hard, swinging him a little on his feet, and I don’t even care when I hear someone from the other side of the balcony let out a whistle.
He leans back a little, reaching up to smooth my hair with his hand. “I meant it when I said I’m yours, you know.”
I lift my thumb to his chin, gently dragging it over his skin. “I used to think I was obsessed with you. But I don’t care if I sound stupid. I think I’m made for you.”
He nods. “I think I’m made for you, too. There’s nobody else I’d rather have.”
When he kisses me again, I know that ending up here was worth every bit of pain I’ve ever suffered.
It was a hard road that led me to where I am.
Here.
With him.
On my own two feet, making my own way toward a future that I love. It’s all inside me, in vivid, vibrant color, alive with what we’re creating together.
And yeah. I do still feel like I’ve fucking lost my mind, all the goddamn time. That’s just how I roll. I’ll always be alive in the chaos, and I’ll always have a mind that lives in a million different places at once.
But there’s someone who loves me for that.
Who chose me, when he could choose fucking anyone.
A man who knelt for me when he had no reason to, other than the sheer force of whatever this invisible energy there is between us, an energy that pulls me back to him, over and over again.
Forever, I think.
Forever is how long it feels like I’ve known him, and how long I want to spend learning everything about him, loving him with my whole being, and giving him every piece of me.