Chapter 42
New York moved fast. But Jamie was slower now.
Slower in the mornings, when he sipped real coffee in mismatched socks instead of oat milk lattes in designer shoes.
Slower on the subway, smiling at couples holding hands instead of scrolling Instagram for life he pretended he wanted.
He missed Blake.
Every day.
And not just in the dramatic, heart-clutching way – he missed the sound of his voice in person. The casual touch. The way he smirked right before saying something wildly inappropriate at the worst possible time.
Blake was flying back Wednesday.
Jamie had plans.
He met Blake at JFK, standing just outside international arrivals, holding a sign that said:
WELCOME HOME, BLAKE.
Small print underneath: Also, I’m not wearing underwear.
Blake’s laughter echoed before Jamie even saw him.
When their eyes met, everything else faded.
Jamie dropped the sign. Blake dropped his bag. And they met in the middle with a kiss so good it shut up three taxi drivers and made a kid in a Yankees hoodie giggle.
“You’re here,” Jamie whispered.
“I’m home,” Blake said, grinning, hands cupping Jamie’s jaw. “And I want every second of tonight with you.”
Jamie kissed him again. “I have a surprise.”
Blake arched an eyebrow. “Does it involve that sign being accurate?”
Jamie smirked. “Get in the car and find out.”
Jamie’s apartment wasn’t fancy, but it felt right.
He’d cleaned, lit a few candles, set a playlist of soft R&B and indie love songs, and laid out takeout from Blake’s favorite Thai place. Two wine glasses waited on the table. The lights were warm and low. The window was cracked open to the breeze.
Blake walked in and stopped in his tracks.
Jamie stepped around him, tossing his keys on the counter. “So? What do you think?”
Blake turned slowly, eyes taking in every detail – and finally landing on Jamie.
“I think I’m in love.”
Jamie flushed. “With me or the food?”
Blake stepped close, lips brushing his. “Both. But only one of them is wearing tight jeans.”
They ate cross-legged on the floor, stealing bites, feeding each other from shared containers, laughing like no time had passed at all.
No pressure. No posing.
Just them.
Jamie.
And Blake.
Back where they belonged.