He smirks. “Are you going to put on your shoes?”

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

I run into my bedroom and tug on my black wool boots. When I come back out, he’s leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. “Much better,” he remarks, lacing his fingers with mine. He never lets go, pulling me along as we quickly move out of the building.

This is all so crazy—with Pierce one minute then Blake the next. I don’t even recognize myself anymore, but I push it all away to stay in the moment.

A cab waits out front. Blake opens the door, allowing me to climb in first. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask when the door shuts.

“No.”

“I haven’t eaten yet,” I announce. Even with my heightened nerves, my stomach grumbles. I should’ve eaten more of my soup at lunch.

“We’ll take care of that.”

I nestle against the seat, watching the Christmas lights through my window.

“Can I ask you something?” Blake says out of the blue.

“Only if I get one, too.”

He actually has to think about it, eyes exploring my features along the way. He’s scared of something, but I don’t know what. “There are stipulations.”

“Like?”

He rubs his chin. “I ask now, and you get yours at the end of the night.”

“What’s the point in that?”

“Maybe yours will be answered along the way.”

I nod, but I’m not exactly sure what I’m agreeing to. I have no idea what we’re doing, or how anything is ever going to get answered.

He continues, “Has Pierce mentioned me?”

By the way he rubs his hands together, I can tell he’s nervous. I am, too. “Just that I should stay away from you.”

“That’s fair enough.”

I don’t mention Alyssa . . . that’s something for later.

Before long, we’re pulling up next to Navy Pier. I’d read about it when I’d decided to move here but was waiting for warmer months to visit. Blake passes the cab driver a couple folded bills then climbs from the car, holding the door open for me.

“This isn’t quite what I expected,” I say without thinking.

He wraps his hand around mine, pulling me forward with him. “What were you expecting?”

I shrug. “A gallery or something.”

He laughs—something I rarely hear from him. “I paint because I’m good at it, and it helps me work through my shit. It doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I know.”

“Isn’t Lake Michigan frozen this time of year?”

“Lemon Drop?”

I grimace at the sound of my nickname rolling off his lips. He hasn’t said it since, well, since everything. “Yeah?”

“You’ll get your question at the end of the night. Now, please, just enjoy this.”

I smile to myself, remembering how I came to love this side of Blake.

He points out little attractions here and there as we walk hand in hand. I get lost in his love for Chicago, for the pier in general.

“Still hungry?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” I answer. There’s not much I wouldn’t put in my stomach right now.

“Have you tried a Chicago-style dog yet?”

“No.”

“That’s about to change.”

I despise hot dogs, but I’m so hungry I don’t care. I watch as he walks up to a stand and orders two dogs and two Cokes. Even I have to admit the aroma in the air smells amazing.

“Here you go,” he says, handing one off to me. I hesitate before sinking my teeth into it. It’s better than anything I’ve had in a while, better than the filet I had a couple nights ago. The taste of onions, relish, and tomatoes hits my tongue, playing together beautifully in my mouth.

“That good?” he asks, swiping his thumb across the corner of my mouth.

“What?”

“You’re moaning like you do when I’m buried inside of you.”

I attempt not to choke on the bite I just took. “We don’t have to worry about that ever again, do we?”

“We’ll see.”

The cold breeze batters my cheeks, but it doesn’t faze me with the hot food to keep me warm. We finish and head toward the amusement park. It’s dark and deserted—almost a little spooky, like a scene from a horror film.

“We’re not going in there, are we?” I ask.

“That’s another question. We talked about this.”

I grip his hand tighter as we walk toward the ferris wheel. I’m sure when this place is open at night in the summer, the lights are a beautiful addition to the glistening lake water.

A man stands next to the gate with two paper cups in his hands. “Mr. Stone.”

Blake nods.

“The bottom bench is ready for you.”

“Thank you.”

To my surprise, he leads us to the loading pad of the wheel and motions for me to get on. I hesitate for just a second before complying. I’ve never been on one like this before—at night when the park isn’t open.

“Take this,” he says, tossing me a thick fleece blanket. I wrap it around me, trying to keep my hands underneath. “Here,” he adds, handing me his gloves. He climbs in next to me, taking his side of the blanket.

The man who greeted us hands us each a cup and pulls the bar down over our lap. “Ready?” he asks.

“Let her roll,” Blake replies.

The wheel jerks once, then we start our ascent. When we reach the top, I notice we can see most of the city from here. “This is amazing.”

“I was hoping you’d like it.”

“How could I not?”

We go round a few more times. I almost forget about the paper cup wrapped in my hands. “What’s this?”

He smiles shyly. “Hot chocolate.”

I put it to my lips, letting the velvety hot liquid coat my tongue. It’s perfect—just the right amount of sweet. “Thank you for this.”

Before he can reply, the wheel suddenly comes to a stop with us seated way up top. It scares me, making my heart race considering the fact that we could be stuck up here.

“Relax,” Blake says, “this is part of the plan.”

I sit back against the seat, trying my best not to look down. Heights have never been my thing, but the view just might make it all worth it.

“What are we doing?” My voice is a little shaky.

He shrugs. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

I glare at him.

“I’m kidding. There’s so much to see up here and nothing to block the view.”

“Have you been up here before?” I ask between several deep breaths to calm myself.

“Not like this,” he says quietly.

“How did you get them to open it?” I remember how dark and empty everything had been when we entered.

“A few dollars will get you just about anything.”

Looking around, I notice I’m swimming in a sea of stars and lights. Something far more breathtaking than the sunset, and from here, it’s as if we’re the only ones who can see it.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice . . . really nice.” Honestly, the thought behind this has me close to tears.

“I missed you, Lila . . . talking to you.”

“I missed you, too.” I stop short of telling him I threw away a chance with someone else because my heart was still stuck on him.

“I fuck up a lot, but I’m going to try not to do that with you anymore.”

My heart leaps. Nothing seems to work out the way I want, but maybe, just maybe, this is different. “What are you saying?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

“I can’t lose you, but I’m not the man you need either. Not the one who deserves you, but I want to try.” He pauses, looking up to the sky . . . thoughtful. “I’ve said more to you in the last few weeks than I have to anyone else the last couple years. There’s got to be a reason for that. We just need to tread slowly.”

His words pang my heart. Whatever it is he’s carrying around with him left deep scars, easily detected by anyone who spends more than a few minutes with him. “Blake.”

“Don’t,” he says, tucking away a piece of hair that had blown across my face. “I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.”

“I don’t,” I lie. In the beginning, when I hadn’t met this side of him, I didn’t feel sorry for him. I think I hated him. “I need you to promise me you won’t cross that line—the one between where we are now and where we’ve been the last few days. I can’t do that again.”