Chapter 34
Liam
While I wasn’t nervous before taking Damon’s virginity, I am nervous as fuck now.
I haven’t even looked at the ring since the day I bought it, all because I made a fucking dinner reservation. I’m new to that part of adulting, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how people normally do it…the reservation or the engagement.
Doesn’t matter now; I’m all in. I mean, the restaurant is expecting a proposal, and the more I think about it, the more it just makes fucking sense.
I heard back from the admissions department this morning. I’m too late to start in the spring and too early to apply for the fall, but they were very helpful in telling me how I should be spending the next few months to increase my chances for acceptance and fall enrollment.
Which is why my next phone call was much better.
I’d reached out to Owen, asking if he knew anyone in the business near my hometown.
After all, it’s only about 2 hours from their place, and he got me in touch with a couple who just opened a new bed-and-breakfast close to one of our state parks and are looking for help.
I don’t have a ton of experience to offer them, but I have charisma, passion, and a desire to learn…at least, that’s what Owen said. I’ll have to live with Damon because fuck all if I’m ready to go back to my dad’s just yet, but the way this trip is going, I really don’t think D will mind.
I rummage through my clothes, trying to find something that will be suitable and unrumpled. Why the fuck didn’t I hang my shit up like Damon?
Because you weren’t planning on getting engaged to your best friend tonight, dumbass.
Oh, right.
Yeah, definitely didn’t see this one coming.
At the bottom of my bag is the one decent pair of pants I own. And they’re still not that decent, but they’ll have to do.
Pulling on the khaki pants, I loop my brown belt through them, tug on my navy-blue sweater, and slip into the brown boots I brought before clasping my silver chain around my neck.
I’ve worn it several times since we’ve been here, but I’m not sure Damon realizes I wear it every day…
even when we’re not on vacation together.
In a way, I guess I already wear his ring.
I can’t believe I’m going to ask him to marry me tonight, and neither of us has told our families that we’re…gay? Bi? Into each other?
I wish I had a nice sport coat like Damon, but all I have is my ski jacket. Can they really turn me away for not having the right jacket?
Fuck. I should have called. I should have asked more questions. Damon would’ve asked questions.
As I’m spiraling, a knock sounds at the door.
“Li, what time did you say we need to leave?”
Opening the door, Damon knocks the breath right out of my fucking lungs.
“Holy shit, Damon,” I say, attempting to catch my breath. He’s standing before me in gray suit pants, a thin black belt, a black button-down tucked into the pants, and the matching gray sport coat over top.
“I could say the same to you,” he says, raking his gaze over my body before his eyes rest on mine. “I hope your plan involves food. I’m dying to eat.”
“Me too,” I whisper, not talking about food at all.
Seeing Damon eases my anxiety just like always.
“Keep looking at me like that, and we aren’t going to make it very far,” he says even as he reaches for me.
The ring feels warm in my pocket, like it’s desperate not to be hidden anymore. It knows its rightful place is on Damon’s finger, claiming him as mine, showing the world he belongs to me.
“Let’s go,” I say, glancing at the clock on my phone. “We can’t be late.”
When we arrive at the heated gondola, there’s already a line. The sun set about forty-five minutes ago, making the wait pretty brutal temperature-wise because none of us have our ski layers on, and the wind is still blowing.
All around us, people chatter in low voices. It’s mostly couples, along with one party of four and one party of six.
The gondola looks like a regular ski lift except it’s completely enclosed and heated, making for a far more comfortable ride up the mountain at night.
While we’re waiting for our turn, Damon begins bouncing slightly and rubbing his arms to stave off the chill. Without thinking twice, I pull him into me and wrap my arms around him.
An older couple up ahead of us is facing our direction, and they smile politely, resuming their conversation with another couple directly in front of us in the line.
The woman in that couple turns to see what caught their attention, and she scowls when her eyes land on mine and Damon’s embrace.
The only reason I don’t say anything is that Damon’s head is turned the other way in my chest, and he didn’t see it.
I want tonight to only hold good memories for him, and me putting this bitch in her place would not be a good memory.
I squeeze Damon tighter as we move forward, closer to the warmth of the gondola, already thinking about how much I’m looking forward to crawling into bed with him when we get back.
One of the large moving bubbles of the lift has a passenger when it rotates back to the bottom.
The lift operator stops the machine so the guy can safely gather his things and hop out.
I watch as the passenger moves straight into the lift house, handing the operator what looks like a box of leftovers.
The lift operator gives the guy a shy smile and watches him as he turns to leave.
I know that look.
I didn’t know what it meant until recently, but my heart aches for the guy, and I hope he finds his happily ever after.
The gondola resumes its movement, and the people in front of us slide into their seats just before the lid automatically closes.
And then it’s our turn.
The gondolas can seat eight, so we move in first, and another couple and a party of four hop in behind us.
The ride is quiet on the way up. Everyone is headed to enjoy a nice dinner after a long day of skiing. We’re pleasantly tired and hungry and enjoying the peaceful views as we’re lifted in the air.
Well, all of us except Damon, of course. There aren’t any lights inside our ride, and whatever storm is moving in has brought all the clouds, so unfortunately, we can’t see the moon or stars, but it’s probably better for Damon that way.
I’m holding his hand, and I don’t have to look at him to know his eyes are screwed shut. Placing my mouth at his ear, I whisper the lyrics to H Burns’s Night Moves to distract him, and I feel him squeeze my hand in response.
The ride only takes about three minutes because the gondola moves faster than the regular lifts, but by the time we exit at the top, Damon’s hand is clammy.
“You did great, baby,” I tell him, kissing the side of his head.
It makes me glad this new side of our relationship happened out here.
Being on this mountain is like the gondola bubble.
You’re shut off from the real world, and all that matters is the peak you’re on.
I don’t care if these people see me with my arm around Damon or see me drag my tongue across the seam of his lips.
We don’t know them, and we’ll never see them again.
But they’ve given him and me a chance to feel this thing out without hiding or fearing that we’ll run into someone we know that would demand an explanation before we were ready, or knew what to call it.
“Wow,” Damon says, taking in the grandeur of the restaurant. “What is this place?”
We skied everywhere today…except any runs off this particular peak.
“This is a restaurant called The Summit. I wanted to do something a little extra for our last night here,” I tell him, taking his hand as we approach the host. The same guy from a couple days ago is back and smiles at me knowingly.
“Ah, Mr. Miller. Welcome back.”
Damon turns his head to look at me, but I ignore him.
“Hello, Zeke. Right on time, just like you said to be.”
“So you are. Good thing, too. It’d be a shame to waste this table. If you two will follow me,” he says, pulling the large, heavy door open.
“After you, baby,” I tell Damon, who still looks shell-shocked.
God, I must’ve really been out of it the last few years if something simple like making a dinner reservation makes Damon look at me like that.
Zeke pulls out Damon’s chair first and unfolds his napkin before placing it across his lap with a flourish. He repeats the same gesture for me.
“Your server tonight is Hayden. He’ll be right over to take your drink order.” Zeke grips my shoulder as he leaves and whispers, “Nice catch, and good luck.”
I nod before returning my attention to Damon.
“Good luck for what?” he asks.
The moment is almost here. The butterflies I’ve been trying to ignore all day are really starting to stir shit up in my stomach. Everything Damon and I have shared over the past couple of weeks has made me feel like this next move is a no-brainer, even if it started out as a joke.
But stupidly, I never paused to consider that he might say no.
What if he thinks this is insane? I mean, it is, but it also feels right. It’s not like we have to get married tomorrow. Hell, we can stay engaged for five years. I just want my ring on his finger and his body in my bed.
“Li?”
My eyes snap to Damon’s.
“Sorry, what’d you say?”
“I just asked why that guy told you good luck.” The tone of Damon’s voice tells me he thinks something bad is coming.
“It’s a long story. Let’s decide what we’re having, and then we’ll dive in.”
“Okay, but I have something I need to tell you, too.”
If I don’t stroke out during this meal, it’ll be a fucking miracle.
Attempting to add levity, I jokingly say, “Shit. I knew we should’ve used protection.”
This makes Damon laugh so hard he’s choking on his water when Hayden arrives to introduce himself and take our drink order, so I take the liberty of ordering for him.
“Macallan 18 for him, please, and I’ll have an old-fashioned…extra sweet.”
Hayden nods. “I’ll go put those in. Please let me know if you have any questions.”
Once he’s out of earshot, Damon leans in. “I have questions, but not about the menu.”
“Yeah, I think the time has come for us to talk about a lot of things.”
Here goes nothing.