He was easily as beautiful. The most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
“Andy,” I began, nervous. There was a thought that had been haunting me for days—it probably hadn’t meant anything, but...
“When, umm,” I continued as he turned to look at me. “When I, uh, when we arranged all this...”
He was so patient, looking up at me with those impossibly soft eyes, not the faintest trace of annoyance at my stammering, halting attempt at a question visible on his face.
“You said, umm. That you thought you might like being my—”
Boyfriend, I didn’t quite manage before a boarding announcement cut me off, blaring over the PA system and drowning out what I’d intended to say.
Perhaps that was for the best. I hadn’t wanted to make things awkward before boarding a trans-Atlantic flight, after all. Regardless of Andy’s answer, just asking the question would have made things awkward for at least one of us.
“Come on,” Andy said, curling his fingers around the strap of his flight bag and favoring me with an excited smile. “That’s us.”
* * *
By the timewe sat down on the train out of London, I was exhausted, sore, hungry, and just about ready to murder anyone who so much as looked at me the wrong way.
Andy, on the other hand, was still in excellent spirits, holding the takeaway cup of tea I’d insisted we pause to get in both hands, wriggling into the relatively plush train seat with a broad grin on his face.
He’d liked flying business class, and I could see he appreciated the first class section on the train as well. Perhaps... well, perhaps he wouldn’t take itsobadly when I was forced to tell him the truth.
Which I’d have to do soon, because we were running right up against the point where he’d discover it for himself.
It was just so damnedawkward. I’d never planned to tell him, because I never thought he’d end up being my closest friend and all-round favorite person. And then when I realized how much he meant to me and that I planned to spend as much time with him as possible, it was too late to confess—and too risky. What if he rejected me outright when he found out?
He still might. He wouldn’tlikeit, in any case, appreciation for comfortable travel notwithstanding.
“What did you say this was?” Andy asked, taking a cautious sip of the undoubtedly too-hot tea.
“Earl Grey,” I said, watching the curious little line between his brows as he presumably contemplated the taste.
“Like Captain Picard,” Andy enthused, whole face brightening. “I always wondered what it’d be like.”
“We’ll try to get you a decent one while we’re here,” I said. “Rather than a cheap teabag in a paper takeout cup.”
“You’re the one who wanted the cheap teabag in the paper cup,” he said, nodding to my own tea.
English breakfast with a generous splash of milk and rather too much sugar for a connoisseur. Not that I was any kind of tea gourmand—it was just that the cheap takeaway cup was so much better than anything I’d gotten my hands on in the last three years that I was thinking about proposing marriage to it.
I was mailing myself home a crate of tea, or putting in a standing order at Fortnum’s, or something. I’d forgotten what real, fresh tea tasted like.
“I cannot adequately express how much I’m enjoying it. Do you like yours?”
“I’m still deciding, but I don’t hate it.”
“Just as well, you’ll be offered rather a lot of tea while you’re here. Some legends say that the English need it to live, like air.”
Andy smiled over his cup as he chanced another sip.
I wished I had half his confidence and a quarter of his tolerance for travel. Perhaps it was just the excitement of going to a different continent for the first time, but he’d weathered the flight so much better than I had.
“Anything else I should know before we get there?” Andy asked.
This was my opening. The chance I’d been waiting for.
“Well, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you, actually,” I began, staring down at my tea. “The thing is… I… this will come as quite a surprise, I imagine, but—”
