I give Blake the day.

We wander around the Met all morning, eat lunch at the cafe, wander around the park all afternoon.

It feels like spring. Bright yellow sun, brisk air, green grass, flowers blooming with pops of color.

The world is awake and alive.

And I am too.

This is what I want. Everything I want.

We walk around the park until the sunset streaks the sky orange.

Blake stops at a bench and pulls me onto his lap. He presses his lips into mine.

It's soft. Sweet. Perfect.

When we break, I try hard to keep my gaze on the sky.

It refuses. His face is a million times more captivating. Those blue eyes of his are gorgeous. And they're filled with every bit of emotion in the world.

He leans closer. One hand pressed between my shoulder blades. The other brushes stray hairs behind my ears.

"Come to Paris with me." His voice is vulnerable. Like my answer has the power to break him. "We can spend the week having sex. We can go to every museum in Europe. I already have my schedule cleared."

"It's convenient?"

His expression stays soft. "That isn't it." He runs his fingertips over my cheek. "I want to be there with you. I want the week with you."

Warmth fills me. It starts in my chest and spreads through my tummy. I take a deep breath. This is so close to everything I want.

But it's not enough.

"And then what?" I ask.

"Then we'll be together." His voice is sweet. Sincere. "I like having you around."

"Is that all—that you like having me around?" I dig my fingers into his shoulders. I force myself to stare back into his eyes.

His fingers skim my cheek. "I care about you, Kat."

The word makes my skin crawl. Care. I swallow hard. "Is that all it is?"

"We'd be happy."

Maybe. But that's not enough.

He runs his hand through my hair. It soothes me and lights me up in equal measures. It's everything.

But it's not enough.

"I'm in love with you, Blake." I make my voice as confident as I can. "I'm madly in love with you, and it drives me crazy. I can't eat or sleep. I can't think about anything else. I can't even draw anything else. I try, but somehow everything goes back to you."

I stare into his eyes, trying to find some reaction. There's only one thing I can see, and it's not love. It's not joy that I'm finally telling him this.

He's afraid.

He's afraid of my feelings.

"Kat."

"I understand you don't believe in love. You don't think you're capable of it. Whatever it is, fine. If that's really how you feel, fine." I squeeze the fabric of his sweater. "But I can't be with you unless you love me. Unless you're madly in love with me."

He goes to touch my cheek but I stop him.

"Don't do that." I stare into his eyes, but it doesn't help me understand what we're doing here. "You don't have to answer now. You can think about it."

"Kat." His voice sinks.

Deep breath. "If you are in love with me, then I will go to Paris with you. I'll go anywhere with you. But it's all or nothing, Blake. I can't be with someone who doesn't love me."

I try to shift off the bench, but he holds me in place. He grabs onto my shoulders, somehow sweet and controlling all at once.

I try to move again, but he squeezes me harder.

"There's no negotiating this," I say.

"I care about you."

"And that's not enough." I push off his chest, but there's still no good. Fine. Might as well use this once. "Chess."

He releases me immediately.

I grab my purse from the bench. I take one more look at Blake, at those gorgeous, impossible to read eyes.

There's nothing I can say, nothing left to do now.

I move backwards. His eyes are still on me, but he doesn't object. He doesn't ask me to stay.

I swallow hard. "I'll see you around, I guess."

I turn and I run. I run until the park is a blur. Until I'm sitting on a subway heading back to Brooklyn.