Chapter 44
CHAPTER
FORTY-FOUR
Mateo
A knock sounds on the door, and I glance at the clock to make sure I haven’t accidentally gone overlong with Troy.
It’s only 9:20 though. Strange.
“I’m sorry. I’ll, uh…” I go to answer the door.
No one should be interrupting me during a massage session.
I open the door.
And it’s Florian.
I shut my eyes. My mind should be stronger.
I am not having visions. No. I am not.
I start to shut the door.
Not-Florian squeezes into the room, which makes sense, since Florian is an athlete with impeccable reflexes.
“Mateo,” he says. “I am disturbing your work.”
“You are,” Troy agrees from the massage table. His eyes sparkle which is also strange. What’s happening?
“Um…” My forehead creases.
Florian is here? Why is Florian here?
“You are not my best friend,” Florian blurts.
My eyes widen, I think. My jaw is definitely dropping downward.
“Dude!” Troy exclaims.
Florian jerks his head to Troy. “You are here.”
“I am supposed to have a massage!”
Florian glowers. “I need to have a conversation with Mateo.”
Troy glances at me.
Florian marches over to Troy, then he hauls him off of the massage table. Troy’s mouth rounds, and his eyebrows to do some sort of lifting thing.
“Uh, Florian?” Troy exclaims.
And then Florian lifts Troy into his arms, bridal style, as Troy kicks and squirms, then he carries Troy out of the massage room.
I follow them into the hallway.
The team is staring at Florian and Troy.
“Florian?” Luke’s mouth drops open. “You’re back?”
“Temporarily,” Florian says. “For a very short time actually.”
Axel and Enzo and Luke and Jason and Noah and Finn and Vinnie and Evan gape.
“Dude,” Axel says. “Why are you here?”
“I’m in love,” Florian announces, still carrying Troy in his arms.
“You’re in love with Troy?” Axel exclaims. “That’s not cool.” Axel glances at me. Sympathy is evident on his face. “I’m sorry, Mateo. That’s got to suck.”
“What?” Florian asks.
Axel gestures to Troy, then Florian looks astonished. “I am not in love with Troy!”
Florian’s nose wrinkles. He shudders. He looks exactly like he’s not in love with Troy.
Troy shuts his eyes. “I’m straight, guys. Of course he’s not in love with me!”
“He’s in love with me,” I say.
Florian gives me a relieved glance, then he deposits Troy onto the floor.
“Let’s go inside,” I say.
“Good idea,” Florian says hastily, then follows me into the massage room.
“Florian?”
“We are alone now.”
“Uh, yes.” I shift my legs. “Is this where you tell me that you are not my best friend again?”
“Yes.”
Right. I blink. Florian is…
“You are the man I love.”
“Oh.” I smile. Something warms inside me, like Florian is swaddling me in his heated blanket and he is tucking his hot water bottle underneath my feet. “I love you too.”
“I have a question.” Florian looks nervous, and my stomach does some sort of acrobatic move that is more advisable to do over professionally laid nets. “So…”
I stare at him.
He stares at me.
“I want you to move back to Nashville,” he blurts.
His eyes widen, like he’s not sure if he said too much.
“If you want to of course,” he hastens to add.
“I should have asked you before you left. I do not want to change your life more than I have. I made assumptions that I should not have. And you followed along with me.”
“Florian…”
He shakes his head. “But I do love you. I know I texted you, but I wanted to tell you in person.”
“I like hearing it in person.”
“Then hopefully you will give me the chance to say the words to you in person often. I want you in my life. You are… you are everything. I just needed you to know that you have that option.”
I stare at this beautiful man telling me all these equally beautiful things.
This is not supposed to happen.
I’m supposed to be here alone. I’m supposed to suggest to Florian, maybe in Puerto Rico, maybe on the phone if I’m feeling brave, that I would be willing, if he wants, to move to Nashville.
His face falls.
I should say something. I should—
“Mateo?” he asks softly.
My heart is somewhere outside my body, and I’ve forgotten how to breathe, how to speak.
I tremble, and then in the next moment, Florian’s arms are around me.
“Baby,” he says. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, blinking rapidly.
My eyes burn.
“I am sorry if I said too much,” Florian says.
“You want me to move to Nashville with you? Permanently?”
And though I know this isn’t a fairytale, even though we talked about castles on our very first meeting, and maybe that’s the sort of thing that happens in fairytales, the words “happily ever after” run through my head all the same.
“I do,” Florian says. “I miss you so much.”
“I’ve only been gone a day,” I say.
“Less than that,” Florian says, smiling. “But I miss you all the same. You are everything to me. You are my love. You are my life.” He hesitates. “And maybe your life is here without me. But I wanted you to know that you are welcome in Nashville. I would love you to live there with me.”
“Really?” I ask.
“So very much.” Florian’s eyes shine.
“Well, that’s…”
He raises an eyebrow.
“That’s convenient, because I-I love you too.” My voice is rough when I say the words, and it’s all I can do to not bury my face in his shirt.
His smile widens.
“You really want me to move to Nashville with you?”
“More than anything.”
“I missed you,” I admit. “So much.”
“Even though it’s been less than one day,” he says.
“Even though.” I put my arms around his neck, and stare into his beautiful dark blue eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you so much.”
We laugh.
And then suddenly everything is perfect.
Florian lifts me into his strong arms and he carries me to the massage table. The leather is cool against my back. We kiss. His lips are so tender, so gentle, and my heart rises up as if to meet him.
When I first met Florian, I thought he’d hated me.
I was wrong.
But now everything between us is beautiful.
Florian is right. My life is here. My sister is here, my job. And I do like Boston. It is the first real city I’ve lived in. I like it.
But I like Florian a million times more.
“Of course I’ll move with you,” I say. “Of course. But, uh…”
“What?”
“I’m not good enough for you,” I blurt.
Florian’s eyes round. He steps back, and I close my eyes.
I said it.
I’ve been thinking it for weeks. Not every time he took my hand, and not every time that he put his arm around me… but often enough. And every time he announced that I was his boyfriend, I thought it.
Because Florian never would have been with me if he hadn’t gotten amnesia.