Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

Conrad seemed to get that, not pressuring me to accept the offer and asking supportive questions while we’d treated ourselves to pizza delivery the night before. But we hadn’t been able to totally escape the convention and stay in a blissed-out cocoon of good feelings. There had been more interview requests for Conrad, more friends to talk to, and congratulations to receive.

This, right here and now, the two of us alone, felt right, and I couldn’t deny either of us the sort of fun that had brought us together in the first place. “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s take the long way home.”

“You’ve got it.” He beamed at me as he put the car in reverse. “Set a course for somewhere with a pool and laundry facilities.”

“And stars,” I added, getting into his plan.

“Definitely stars.” His wink promised far more than just astronomy lessons, and warmth spread throughout my body.

“We could film some content for the professor by the pool. He needs a reaction video to you winning.”

“What’s the opposite of a death scene?” He laughed. “Our audience won’t know what to make of me as a winner.”

“You’ve always been a winner,” I said firmly. “And you didn’t need the tournament to prove it either.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m not as up on the rules as you, but I’m pretty sure it’s like a boyfriend requirement or something to say nice stuff like that.”

I liked being called his boyfriend far more than I should have, practically preening in my seat as we headed out of downtown Vegas.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “You don’t need this job either. You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me at least.”

“Thanks.” His voice was thick, and his mouth opened and closed a few times, as though there was something more he wanted to say but couldn’t. He still hadn’t said the words back to me. Not that I was pining for them or anything, but I wanted him to trust me with his heart, trust that this thing between us wasn’t going to end up hurting either of us in the long run.

“Maybe I had to prove something to me,” he said at last. “And I did. And you’re right that it wasn’t winning that did it. Or landing the job. Or at least not only those things. I had to learn to believe in myself again. And that’s on you and the trip more than the tournament. You mainly. You’ve…taught me a lot.”

“Thanks. And you too.” My voice was rough. I wanted to say the words again, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated to say them back. But then the car stopped at a red light right before the interstate on-ramp, and our eyes met. Held. And maybe he wasn’t able to say it yet, but I felt it, down to my dusty shoes.

And when he grinned at me, I grinned back.

“Here’s to another adventure,” he said as the light turned green, and I knew, deep inside, in that place where my most secret desires lived, that I would follow this guy anywhere.

* * *

“It’s so big. Even the second time seeing it, I can’t get over it.”

“That’s what he said.” Conrad cackled next to me as we waited in line for our turn to take one of the little pods up to the top of the Arch. We were still taking our time getting home, and he’d promised me a trip to the top of the Arch, so here we were. Dusk was starting to fall, and hopefully we’d get a good view of both the setting sun and the city lights.

I wanted to grab his hand but settled for standing close enough to brush shoulders. We had kissed our way through Utah and Colorado again, but most of that was in remote scenic vistas and national parks, with no audience. Here, I wasn’t so sure about the PDA, so I’d save it for our hotel room later.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mr. Mind Reader said. “You’re making me regret signing up for the riverboat dinner cruise thing.”

“Hey, that was your idea.” I bumped my shoulder into his, both to protest and because touching him even casually felt so good. I hadn’t let Conrad try gambling with his tournament winnings, but I had let him have more of a say in where we’d stopped for nights, like the downtown St. Louis hotel we nabbed on one of the deal sites.

“I know. I generally have good ones.” He gave me a goofy grin, which I couldn’t help but return.

“You do.”

“Including—”

“Now boarding the tram,” an announcement cut Conrad off, but I knew what he’d been about to say, bringing up the idea of us working together again. We’d been on something of a big decision moratorium the past few days, enjoying the trip like he’d wanted, and not talking too much about our futures and what was waiting for us back home.