37. Blaze #2
“This place does things to you,” Josh agrees. “I’m glad it worked out.”
“Worked out? Understatement, man. I found a new lease on life. I found—Blaze.”
There’s no mistaking the look in his eyes. Shawn looks like a man in love. He reaches his hand out, and I put mine in his.
“I guess we do owe you some thanks,” I add when Josh has had a chance to absorb the result of his actions.
He smiles. “I didn’t do anything. You did,” he says to Shawn. “And congrats, guys.” He gazes off into the trees. “This really is a special place.”
“Come up more. You like fishing? Hiking? What’s your thing?” I ask, ready to make all his outdoor dreams come true.
He laughs, refocusing on us. “I’ve been in the city too long. But—”
“Yeah?”
“I used to swim. I’d swim clear across the lake any chance I got.”
“Well, it’s not exactly swimming weather, but come back in June.”
“Maybe I will. Anyway, I better go find Aunt Marika. Nice to see you both.”
He ambles away, and I tighten my hold on Shawn’s hand. “He seems lonely.”
“Yeah,” Shawn agrees. We exchange a glance. We both know something about loneliness. I’m profoundly grateful that we have each other.
I steal another quick kiss, and Shawn grins. “You know what, Blaze? You really light my fire.”
I’m flattered for half a second, then groan at the pun. “I’m a real fire starter, aren’t I?”
“You lit a blaze in my heart, that’s for sure,” he says, refusing to be one-upped.
“Oh, that’s bad.” I shake my head.
“But not untrue,” he counters.
“Yeah? Your heart is on fire for me?”
“I burn for you, Blaze.”
I’m not sure if we’re still being cheesy on purpose or if we’ve slipped into accidental sincerity. Either way, it’s working on me.
“I love you, Shawn.” Maybe it’s the cheesiest thing of all to say, but it’s true.
His eyes grow wide, and then he brings the back of my hand to his mouth and kisses it like I’m something precious. “I’m so glad,” he says. “I love you, too.”
The words fill me with a kind of lightness I wasn’t expecting.
I feel so much for him—lust, admiration, pride, the occasional burst of exasperation.
But I wasn’t expecting being in love to feel this…
freeing. I always felt the burden of love before, the weight of responsibility, the weight of expectation.
But loving Shawn isn’t work. It’s not a performance.
It’s not something I put on. It’s a state of being—it’s just being me, with a person to back me up and catch me and lay beside me and ground me with the weight of his care and devotion.
It’s life. It’s what our life is going to be. And it feels wonderful.
We gaze at each other with sappy smiles, until Shawn throws his head back and laughs toward the stars we still can’t see.
“What?” I ask him when he hoots into the sky. We’re attracting attention from people scattered around the fire, but I don’t care.
“I just—I literally have never felt this way before. I guess I thought I never would.” He smiles at me, his face shining with love, and I fall for him all over again. “But to bring it back to baseball…I was wondering if you’d want to catch a game with me sometime?”
“What—next season? Sure.” It would be fun to watch a baseball game with Shawn.
I remember the one game I went to with my dad when I turned ten.
We drove down to Hartford, spent the night.
I remember peanut shells and sticky soft serve, the roar of the crowd and the excitement when the home team pulled ahead and kept their lead.
“Actually, I thought we could go this season. Game three of the series is Tuesday night. If you could get away from work for a couple of days…I already asked Luis for the time off. We could fly, or drive, if that’s better for you.”
“Fly?” I squeak. “Game three?” My brain is short-circuiting.
“Well, yeah. I can get tickets,” he says casually. “And I could introduce you to some of the team. Jett really wants to meet you.”
“Jett Montevideo wants to meet me?” I’m squeaking again, but I can’t help it.
“If you want to go, we can make a date of it,” he says, as if I might not want to go to a World Series game of my favorite team on a date with one of the former players of said team who I happen to be in love with.
“Yeah, I fucking want to go,” I say. “But I’m not sure about the flying thing. I’ve never flown before.” I’m not afraid of flying, exactly, but it hasn’t been high on my bucket list.
It also occurs to me, maybe later than it should have, that my boyfriend is kind of…rich? I mean, I knew it on some level. But he’s wealthy enough to fly us to Hartford for a World Series game at the last minute without blinking an eye. I sway on my feet.
“Let’s drive, then. It’ll take a little longer, but we can bring more of my things back up with us, so maybe that makes more sense, anyway.”
“I’m—I’m—”
“You look a little pale. Let’s get you some coffee or something to warm you up.”
“Hot chocolate?” I’m not cold, but I need something to hold on to.
Shawn leaves and comes back a minute later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. I smell it, then take a fortifying sip. It goes down creamy and sweet. “Ahh.”
“Good?” Shawn asks.
“Better. Things just got real for a second.”
Shawn wraps an arm around my waist, tilts his head to mine. “This is real,” he whispers.
Together, we look over the lake. The moon’s dropped in the sky. We can see the stars again. “Yeah. It’s pretty real.”
And we’re really lucky.