“You do?”He did?
“Yes.”
“And you’re not telling me where you’re taking me, are you?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a surprise,” then he sobered and cradled my face. “A good one, I hope.”
We drove out of Wishing Tree, the tires crunching over packed snow, our breath fogging faintly in the chill of the car. The quiet between us was thick with anticipation, every brush of his hand on mine on the console making me want to press closer. Snow curled across the windshield, the road lit by strings of Christmas lights on the houses we passed. Hunter was quiet beside me, his hand brushing mine on the console, his jaw set in nervous anticipation. I wanted to ask him a dozen times where we were going, but his smile stopped me.
I saw signs for the college he’d interviewed at, but that could’ve been a coincidence. Only when he turned onto the campus drive did it become obvious where we were stopping. My pulse spiked. He pulled into a space and let the engine idle, headlights throwing golden light across the snow, like he was working up to something.
The campus rose out of the snow like a fairytale castle—brick buildings dusted with white, wreaths strung on every lamppost, tall windows glowing amber in the night. My heart tripped over itself. “Hunter,” Iwhispered, awe spilling out of me. “It’s beautiful.” I couldn’t help whispering, “It looks magical, like something out of a storybook.”
Hunter gave a quiet, nervous laugh. “Like one of your castles, right?”
“More beautiful than any castle.”
“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d think.”
“Is there some kind of restaurant here?” It certainly looked old and stately enough to contain a million different things.
“No.” He dipped his head and mumbled something, then met my gaze head-on. “I want people to meet my boyfriend,” he said, and reached over to take my hand.
The wordboyfriendslammed into me, my stomach dropping even as my chest fluttered. I stared at him, half thrilled, half terrified, and managed a shaky laugh. “‘Boyfriend’? Did you just use the B-word?”
He smiled, leaning over to kiss me quickly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“That’s what you are, I mean, I don’t know what else to call someone I’ve fallen in love with.”
Double whammy. “What?”
“I love you, Wesley Darkwood.”
I was doing my best goldfish impression, and then it hit me all at once. He was waiting for me to process, and he was freaking nervous.
My throat went tight, my heart thudding painfully, but the words broke free anyway. “I love you too, Hunter,” I whispered, voice rough, because holding it in any longer felt impossible. “Wherever you go, whatever you decide… I won’t stop loving you.”
“That’s why I want you to meet the faculty here.”
Heat surged through me but so did panic. “Shit,” I muttered, pulling back just enough to search his face. “Is this part of the interview? Oh my god, are you testing them? To see if they’ll accept that you’re queer or something?” The thought made my gut twist—because if that was what he was doing, then fuck this college. I rushed on, panic rising. “Hunter, this could go badly. People get passed over for jobs, harassed, even forced out just for being themselves—you know that, right? They can’t do this to you. I won’t let them.” My words tumbled too fast, my chest tight, my heart pounding with fear for him, and I tried to tug my hand free—what if someone saw us?
Before I could spiral further, Hunter broke in the only way he knew how—by yanking me close, then kissing me, firm and certain, stealing the rest of my protest right off my lips. When he pulled back, his forehead rested to mine, his voice steady. “I’m not testing anyone, Wes. I just want my new colleagues to meet the man I love.”
I was still indignant at the thought ofdiscrimination, railing silently about every unfair story I’d ever heard—and then it hit me.His new colleagues?
“What?”
“Wait here,” he said, turned off the engine, then came around to open my door as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Snow crunched underfoot, the cold air stinging my cheeks, our breath fogging in the lamplight. I held his hand tight as I stepped out.
“What do you mean your new colleagues?”
“The dean invited me to a faculty dinner,” he explained, voice careful and low. “And…I’ve accepted the post here.”
I blinked at him, stunned. “Here?”
“I love you, Wes,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “There wasn’t a choice to be made.”
I was horrified. “No, don’t choose a place just because of me, that isn’t right, that is?—”
