It’ll all be fine, I coo myself over and over again. Mercifully, I remember Logan telling me that he’ll still love me even if his mother thinks I’m a bitch. That’s something, at least, I think, grabbing this feeble silver lining and running with it.

What I need is a distraction from my thoughts. Picking up my phone I pull up an internet search engine and type: Charleston Outlaws.

I hit search and a long list of sites spring up on my screen. At the very top I see a results table which tells me that they won their game this past weekend. Good, I think, this is perfect smalltalk. But before I can search any further, the elevator pings and I’m on the move.

“Lights,” I say quickly, coming to a skidding halt in front of the doors. At least I think I’m in front of them, but everything is so dark I can’t be certain of my position. Somewhere vaguely in front of me I hear the doors open. With a mischievous grin on my face, I say, “Hello, lover.” And then I blanch. He is alone, isn’t he?

The thought suddenly occurs to me that despite what his message said, Logan parents might be with him… After all, this is exactly the kind of language I was afraid of using in front of them, and exactly the type of first impression that I expect myself to make. It’s something that could only happen to me!

Someone steps out of the elevator and one second later hands grip my hips. Familiar arms wrap around me before lips that I know very well mutter against my own, “Hello, baby.” Logan kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

“Are you alone?” I whisper.

“Uh-huh,” he says into my mouth before kissing me once more. Relieved that it’s just the two of us, I relax and wrap my arms around his neck, my phone still in my hand, kissing him with equal ardour. My panic melts away seamlessly as I push my body more firmly against his and his arms tighten their hold of me. It’s a long, deep, sensual kiss that sparks a fire in both of us. How long are his parents going to be? Suddenly I’m eager to postpone our meeting for reasons wholly different to nerves. Logan’s hands run up and down body and when we finally break apart, he mutters, “Not that I mind feeling my way around,” his hands cup my backside, “but why are the lights off?”

“Your birthday present,” I explain, feeling breathless from our kiss.

“Oh…when am I allowed to unwrap it?”

“Soon,” I breathe, bringing my lips to his once more. “There’s just something I want to do first…” My words trail away as I kiss him. He is intoxicating to me, his mere presence causing endorphins to flood my system, and his kiss causing a potent chemical reaction within me. I’m hooked, and I know with certainty that I’ll never get enough of him to satiate my desire. I’ll always want more Logan.

Appeasing my appetite for him, Logan kisses me headily while his hands continue their tour of my body.

Around us the music dies down to a simmer before a new, punching beat kicks in.

“I didn’t know you liked the Boss, baby,” Logan says quietly.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” I giggle, taking his hand and spinning around as Dancing In The Dark plays loudly.

“The timing is impeccable.”

I spin around again but in doing so I drop my phone which lights up. Logan bends to pick it up and starts chuckling when he sees what I’ve been searching.

“The Boss and the Charleston Outlaws, huh?”

“They won their game last weekend. Great, right?” I say, testing out my smalltalk on him while my phone illuminates our faces.

“I also didn’t know you like football,” Logan smiles.

“Love it!” I exclaim. “The Outlaws played a perfect game.”

Logan starts laughing. My phone goes black and we’re in darkness once more. His hands find my waist and slowly he slides them up my body until my face is cupped. He presses his lips against mine, still laughing to himself. “I love you, Gemima, you know that, right?” he says, all of a sudden.

“I do.”

“Good,” he laughs once more. “The Outlaws aren’t a football team, baby.”

Dammit! “Baseball?” I guess.

“Nope, but it’s fucking adorable what you’re doing, even if it is unnecessary. You don’t have to impress my parents, just be yourself.” Paying me the biggest compliment in the world, he adds, “That’s how you won my affection. That’s how you’ll win theirs.”

“I was nervous,” I confess, “but I’m not anymore. I find it hard to worry about anything when I’m with you, Logan. Not even my American Mouth scares me.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that,” he teases me, so I pinch him. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Just keep it filled with food, wine, and cake.”

“You baked me a cake?”

“A birthday boy needs a birthday cake,” I state, matter-of-factly.

“I was under the impression that birthdays get less exciting the older you get.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I laugh, “I’m sure I’ll disappoint you next year. It’s going to be hard to top what I’ve got you this year. It’s pretty fucking cool, even if I do say so myself,” I grin through the darkness at him.

“Can I open it now?” he checks.

“Let’s evaluate the situation we’re in, shall we? We’re alone,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s dark, and we’ve got a little time on our hands… So, do you really want your present now, or…?”

“I want my present,” Logan says, and I can tell that he’s smiling.

“Jeez, I don’t stand a chance against candy or presents, do I?” I say in mock petulance, making Logan laugh. “Fine, baby, you can have it,” I concede, taking his hand and pulling him towards the man’s den. “Lights.”

Logan surveys every inch of the room, his face excited. I enjoy watching him for a moment longer, before finally telling him, “It’s not in here.”

“Oh…where then?”

“It’s out there in the dark. I just need a minute to put the cherry on the top.”

“OK,” he smiles his boyish smile. “Be quick,” he tells me.

I leave the room with a laugh, calling behind me, “No peeking!”

I hurry into the dressing room and rummage through my overnight bag until I find the large red bow that I bought to seal the French doors with. Then being as quiet as I can I step out onto the terrace to turn the lights on the planter boxes on once more. I fumble with the sticky backing of the bow for a minute before it finally behaves itself and I secure it in place.

“Lights,” I say. When my eyes adjust I take in the sight of the doors. Perfect, I think.

Logan is waiting impatiently just inside the man’s den. I saunter over to him, walk around him and reach up on my tiptoes to cover his eyes. “Ready?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he smiles, his dimples pronounced.

“Walk forward four paces,” I tell him.

Together we move forward, clearing the doorframe.

“Now we’re turning to the left,” I instruct, before following through with the action.

“And forward again,” I say. Logan practically drags me behind him, he’s moving at such a keen pace. “Stop!” I shriek just before his nose hits the doors. I take a deep breath: it’s the moment of truth.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Logan says, reading my anxious silence correctly.

Yes, I think, I know he will. I let my hands fall from his eyes and stand beside him. Beneath my hands his eyes were closed, and he blinks them open eagerly. His eyes dart quickly from the red bow to the light coming from beyond the doors.

“Oh my god!” he exclaims. “Gemima…” he turns to look at me in disbelief.

“It was a bit too big to wrap up, so I put a bow on it instead.”

Taking the bow off of the doors, Logan throws them both open wide, and stands in the frame, staring out at his new oasis, completely speechless. My heart rate hammering, I sidestep him and walk out onto the terrace while he stays motionless, his eyes taking in every last detail.