Page 76 of Before I Lost You

“It’s beautiful here.” I nod toward the garden I didn’t look at before. There is a hedge of thick bushes around the perimeter, as if trying to draw a line between this area and that one. Then there’s the entrance to the garden—a lush green arch with white peonies all over it, a stone path leading into Kenneth’s favorite place. “I didn’t know about this place.”

“Good.” Kenneth smiles, his face lighting up even more. Something I didn’t think was possible. “Now we’re even.”

I chuckle. “Let’s chug this so you can show me around.” I lift my glass towards his and clink them together in a cheers, and he puts the straw between his lips and nods. “Ready?”

“Wait,” Kenneth says as my lips wrap around my straw. I halt and raise my eyebrows in a silent question. “What do I get if I win?”

I pretend to think about it, then ask, “What do you want?”

“I’m undecided.” He shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something, though.”

That makes me smirk. “I’m sure you will. But ifIwin, I want another date.”

Kenneth grins, “I don’t think you’ll win.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m very competitive.”

“I think you underestimate how badly I want that third date.”

“Does a third date equal third base?” There’s a smirk on his lips as he asks this, and my cock twitches. I force myself to ignore it.

“I think you’re skipping two entire bases.” I smirk back. “Might need to slow down a bit.”

He pouts, and I chuckle.

“On your mark—”

“W-wait,” Kenneth breathes, then wraps his lips around the straw, ready to win. He nods.

“Get set.” I grin. “Go.”

He starts sipping hard, turning pink, and I chuckle. Instead of putting the straw between my lips, I move it to the side and chug the drink down in two large gulps. He stops sipping, mouth falling open, and I throw my head back and laugh.

“Hey!” Kenneth says breathlessly. “That’s cheating!”

“Is it?” I ask innocently, putting my glass back on the coffee table. “You didn’t set any rules.”

“Oh, that’s such crap, and you know it.” But he’s smiling, chuckling, and shoving me gently. He goes back to sipping his drink and finishes it, then looks at me. “I guess you’re getting that third date after all.”

“Couldn’t lose.” I wink. “Can I put in a request?”

Ken raises an eyebrow. “It’s not enough that you’re getting that date? Now you’re making requests?”

“Can we maybe have some privacy for this third date?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. I’m not planning on doing anything sexual with him, but I want to see him comfortable. I want him to be able to relax around me. “My place—or yours. Whatever works for you.”

“My place,” he says softly. “Takeout. Netflix.” He looks me in the eye, then winks. “Chill.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Loud and clear, baby.”

Kenneth’s face turns red, and he gives me a long, slow blink, like he trusts me. Loves me, even. My fists tighten on my lap as I look at him. He clears his throat. “Your laugh—you sound so happy.”

“I am,” I reply without hesitation.

“You should laugh more.” He smiles shyly. “I like it when you do.”

“Then keep making me laugh.”

He rolls his eyes and stands, grabbing his camera from his other side, then offers me his hand. I take it, and when he links our fingers and begins to lead me to the arched entrance of the garden, my breath catches in my throat. This is what I’ve been craving. Being close to him—and he’s giving it to me so freely. It makes me want to wrap him in my arms and kiss him silly right under the arch, but I keep myself from doing so. Just barely.

Kenneth holds my hand tightly, as if the wind itself could take me away from him, and leads me down the stone path. There are flowerseverywhere—all of them peonies. Some are pink, some are white, some are even red. He lets go of my hand and brings the camera to his face, then snaps a picture of the flowers. The sun is setting behind him, and when he turns toward me, he snaps a picture of me, too. I smile, and he snaps one, two, three more. It makes me chuckle, and it feels like my chest is going toexplode from how much it hurts. I’m still not sure if it’s a good or bad pain. Only that it exists, and it’s stealing my breath away.