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“I’m in your arms. How can I not be?” Really, I’m anything but fine, but a few more minutes away from Gilbert and I will be.
Blake pulls back and frowns. “Stef, if we’re going to make us work long-term, we need to talk to each other and trust what’s being said is the truth. Right?”
I chew on my bottom lip and nod. “Yes.”
His kind eyes are so full of concern, and my heart squeezes in my chest. What if Gilbert’s right? What if I’m bad for Blake? I know I’m a lot. What if Ihadfelt more female tonight and worn a dress? How would these people react? Eventually, it’s bound to happen. When my novelty’s worn off, will he ask me to stay home or wear pants instead? Will he leave me?
“Hey.” Blake tilts my chin up, worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? I can see you’re upset. Please, talk to me.”
Darn it. How am I supposed to resist him when he looks at me like that? I sigh and cave. “Blake, what if I’d worn a dress tonight?”
He frowns, and after a moment, the frown deepens. “Did you wear this because you thought I wouldn’t want you to wear a dress?”
I shake my head. “No, I definitely wanted to wear this. But what if Ihadwanted to wear a dress? What if I’d felt she/her today?”
“Stef, I meant it when I said you should always wear whatever makes you feel moreyou, no matter what it is.” He strokes my cheek and searches my eyes. “Please, tell me what has you so worked up.”
At the risk of upsetting him I press my question. “What do you imagine would have happened if I had? Here. With these people.”
Blake’s frustration changes to understanding, and he relaxes. “Who cares? Some of them would probably have an issue with it, but most of those people would be silent about it, at least to our faces. But consider why we’re here. What we’re supporting tonight. It’s about freedom of expression. Specifically about books, but it’s the same principle. Most of this group wouldn’t bat an eye.”
Okay, that’s fair. “But what about other galas and functions you need to go to? Ones that are more conservative?” I’m pushing, and Blake is clearly getting annoyed that I won’t accept his answer, but I need to know.
He steps back and takes my hand, leading me to a quieter spot off the dance floor. “Stef.” His large hands cup my face, and some of my worry dissipates. “Sweetheart, I adore you exactly as you are, in every form that takes. I will never be ashamed of you. If anyone in my world, professional or not, won’t accept that, they can fuck right off. I don’t need them.”
“What if they decide not to do business with you? Or what if you lose authors?” I can’t help but believe there are a lot more Gilberts out there.
“Fuck them all.” Blake says it with such vehemence that I believe he means it. “I don’t need them, Stef. I have more money than I can spend in one lifetime and I do what I do because I love my job. It’s been my dream since I was old enough to know there were companies that put wonderful books into the world. Work is not my life. Not since I met you, and you showed me there was so much more to living.” He strokes my cheek and I press my face into his palm. “Now, please. Will you tell me what happened? Because something did.”
I debate what to say, but before anything comes out of my mouth, he clenches his jaw and his brows draw down. “It was Gilbert, wasn’t it? What did he say to you?” Blake scans the crowd for him. Good grief, what’ll happen if he finds him?
“Blake.” I squeeze his arm trying to get his attention. “That’s not important.”
“I beg to differ. It’s very important.”
I sigh and give in. “He knows it was me from Club Cake.”
“And?” Blake’s confusion is genuine.
He truly doesn’t see any issues with people knowing, and it baffles me. “What if that gets out?”
Blake’s confusion turns to fury and he searches the crowd again. “He threatened you?”
“No.” He didn’t. Not technically.
“That fucker threatenedme, didn’t he? He threatened to, what, tell everyone you’re gender-fluid and said it would ruin me?”
We just agreed not to lie to each other, so I deflect. “I doubt he knows what gender-fluid means. He thinks I’m playing dress-up.” His ignorance would be amusing if the situation wasn’t so dire.
“Don’t change the subject, sweetheart.” He kisses me softly. “What else did he say?”
“Blake, really, it’s not important.” He cups my face in his hands and stares into my eyes, probably because he’s figured out it calms me and makes me melt into a little puddle of happiness.
“Itis. It’s vitally important to me, becauseyouare important to me. And if he threatened you by threatening me, I’m going to hurt him. Badly.”
Is it wrong that I like this very protective, bad-ass Blake? Because I’m kind of aroused right now. But I don’t want him to do anything that might get him arrested. “If you do then you’ll go to jail and then later I can’t do that thing you love.”
His angry expression changes to confusion and settles on curiously interested. “What thing?”
