Messy Love (Stumbling into Love 3)

“I wanted to treat my man.”

Danny’s words sent the best kind of shiver through me. I looked across the table at him, over the candles lit in the middle, and smiled. Jesus, I liked this more than I should. He always put me first. He was always thinking about what made me happy or what was good for me. Thinking back on what happened earlier, I didn’t feel like I could say the same. “I know. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

But I really, really did.

Our waitress approached the table. “Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?”

We each ordered one of their specialty beers, and then for dinner, steak. It was one of those restaurants where the main course came à la carte and the side dishes were separate, so we got honey-grilled brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes to share.

Danny seemed to have forgotten our earlier argument. He talked and made jokes. We laughed a lot the way we always did when we were together.

“Have you ever thought of going to art school?” Danny asked out of the blue. I drew when he was around now. Well, I had before, but now I didn’t hide it. We’d sit on the couch, watching TV, and I’d work in a sketchbook while Danny peeked over and told me how good it was or asked me a question about it.

“I couldn’t do that,” I replied, which made him frown.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m too old, for one thing.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You’re not old. People a lot more…advanced in years than you go back to school.”

“Advanced in years,” I repeated, chuckling. “What would I do in art school?”

“I don’t know, learn about art? Enjoy yourself? Maybe you’d find something you wanted to do with it, and maybe you’d realize it wasn’t for you, but you love it, Jonathan. I can see it. You should give yourself a chance to do more of what you love.”

I love you.

The thought came out of nowhere, hitting me, a sudden lightning strike. Maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising. Maybe I should have already realized it. Maybe I had and just hadn’t let myself acknowledge it, but I was in love with Danny Reyes.

“What’s wrong? You look strange.”

Fuck, that wasn’t good. I shook my head. “Nothing. I’ll look into it—art school.” Holy shit. Had I really just said I’d do that? The words had slipped out, but the truth was, I was pretty sure I wanted to. Didn’t I deserve to learn more about something I enjoyed? Even if it didn’t lead to any kind of career.

“That’s my boy.”

His words settled in my chest, made me feel light, buoyant. I’m in love with you…Jesus, I’m so fucking in love with you. It was both scary and maybe…maybe the best thing that had ever happened to me.

If I could only do what I needed to do to keep him.

We didn’t talk about anything serious for the rest of dinner. I felt bad letting Danny pay for me, but he just rolled his eyes and said it was a date. If I wanted to pay, I needed to plan the next one. I decided then and there I would.

He wouldn’t tell me where we were going next, but it was within walking distance. I laced my fingers with his. Before Danny, I would have thought holding hands was juvenile, but I liked doing it with him. It was a way I could claim him, a way that also made me feel more like I was his.

As soon as I saw the building down the block, I knew it was where we were going. “An art gallery?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it. Is that dumb?”

“I…” No, no it wasn’t dumb at all. Getting jittery inside over going to an art gallery felt…well, fucking ridiculous, but I did get that way and I liked it too. “It’s perfect.” I tugged his hand. “Come on.”

“It’s not going anywhere,” Danny replied, but he bounced slightly on his feet and hurried after me.

We spent hours there. He didn’t rush me, asked questions, some I could answer and some I couldn’t. It was such a simple thing to do, visiting a gallery, but it was one of the best things anyone had done for me.

I wanted what he’d said, I realized. I wanted to go to art school.

When we got home later that night, I pushed Danny against the wall and took his mouth. When we stumbled to bed, stripping each other out of our clothes as we went, I knew there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Danny

“Oh my God! You guys killed it!” Monica jumped into my arms after the game. I stumbled backward slightly, but Jonathan was there and kept me on my feet.

“Mijo, you boys were both really good,” Mom said.