Taylor and I stepped off the elevator and onto the penthouse level.
Even in the hallway, it was gorgeous.
The walls were light grey with delicate white and gold designs. Everything was masculine, vintage, and top of the line. There were skylights in the ceiling, which let the natural light into the hallway.
It did not feel like a hotel at all.
It was beautiful.
Taylor just watched me as I took it in.
I glanced his way. "It's just breathtaking."
He smiled. "It's just the hall."
I grinned back at him as we headed to his apartment. "I thought they weren't done with the eighth floor," I said, looking at the wallpaper and thinking about what an excellent job they had done on it.
"The hall and my suite are mostly done," Taylor said. "They've still got work to do in the guest suite." He used a thumbprint to open his door, and I followed him in when he gestured that I should. I walked inside, trying my best to take it all in.
It was overwhelmingly wonderful.
I had seen some pictures of all of these spaces, but everything was much different, better in person. I was blown away by the attention to detail. The molding, the light fixtures, the wall plates, the paint colors, the beautiful wood floors. I knew he still had some furniture to buy, but there was already some nice things, and it was welcoming and inviting.
"Are the floors like this in the other suite?"
He nodded. "We went with a different color finish, but it's the same wood and the same size planks and everything."
"And the ceilings?" I asked. "Are they like this?"
The light fixtures and inset detail of the ceiling were exquisite, but what really caught my eye was the skylights. I hadn't seen them in the pictures.
"It's mostly the same," Taylor said. "There are skylights in the other suite, too."
"Can people see in?" I asked, looking up.
He looked up as well. "I don't know who would."
"People in helicopters," I said.
Taylor laughed. "There's some kind of coating on the glass," he said. "No one can see in. Thank goodness, with all those helicopters flying over all the time."
He was teasing me, and I smirked at him. "They do fly by," I said.
He smiled. "Well, I'm glad we're covered."
I glanced around, trying to take everything in. "You have outdone yourself on this place, Taylor. I really don't know what to say."
Before I knew what was happening, Taylor quickly moved to stand behind me, taking me into his arms all at once, and making me gasp and giggle as he held onto me.
"You were saying you wanted some kind of job over here," he said, squeezing me from behind and nuzzling his face into my neck. My back was to his chest and his arms were around my waist. I squeezed his arms, pressing them into me, holding them in place.
"I do want to work here," I said. "Really bad. Who do I go to with my resume?"
"Me," he said. "I make all the decisions around here."
He held me tightly, enveloping me in his big arms. After a week of talking to him on the phone or FaceTime, I was out-of-my-head with the urge to feel his body next to me. I leaned against him relishing the warm feeling of finally being in his arms.
"The thing is," he said before lowering his face to put a kiss on my neck. "I didn't know I was looking for an assistant." He kissed me again after he said that, gently letting his mouth touch the skin on the side of my neck.
My knees were weak from it.
I could barely stand on my own.
I leaned against him for support.
"You are looking for one," I said. "You need me, and you don't even know it."
"I think, my darling Blue, I do know it."
"You do?" I asked tentatively.
He kissed my neck again, and I reached up, letting my hand fall on the side of his face, holding him closer to me. He kissed me again and again. They were playful, gentle kisses. His touch was light, and I felt dizzy with desire.
"You're nervous," he said.
"How do you know?"
"I can feel your pulse… right…" (He put his lips on the side of my neck again.) "…there," he said with his mouth right next to my skin.
"I'm not nervous," I explained. "I'm just… okay, maybe I'm a little nervous. You would be nervous, too, if you were at a bigtime job interview."
I could feel his face move and stretch as he smiled against my neck. "Well, allow me to set your mind at ease," he said, holding me close. "You, Blue Stone, can have any job you want at this establishment. You could just about ask me to sign the whole place over to you and I'd do it."
"I'll take the whole place, then" I said breathlessly.
Taylor let out a fake frustrated sigh, shaking his head and joking around with me like he was about to start looking for a pen to sign over the deed.
I turned in his arms.
"I'm so happy for you," I said, staring up at him. "What you've got here is really amazing." I hugged him—a real hug where I placed the side of my face on his chest and wrapped my arms around him.
He held onto me tightly. I could feel the warmth and firmness of his body through the fabric of our clothing. We stayed there, unmoving for the next two or three minutes, saying literally nothing. It was completely quiet in the room, and yet both of us were content to just stand there and say nothing.
The fact that we were in each other's arms was enough. We had said so much to each other during the last week-and-a-half on the phone or on FaceTime. We had been so entirely all-talk and no-touch that it felt amazing to do the opposite.
The side of my face was resting comfortably on his chest, but I could see the penthouse, and after a while I couldn't resist mentioning how much I loved it again.
"It's so beautiful here," I said.
"You haven't even seen the best parts. You still need to take the grand tour."
"How could there be better parts?" I asked. I pulled back and stared up at him. "The best part of it is right here."
"The living room?"
I shook my head, staring at him. "It's not the suite at all."
"You think it's me?" he asked.
I stared straight into his green eyes.
He loved it that I was less impressed by his things than with him. It was the truth, though. I was being real with him. This whole building could crumble around us, but if I had Taylor, I'd be happy.
"It is you," I said with quiet confidence. "It's most definitely you. You have created a masterpiece here, Taylor. But you, hands down, are the best part of it."
"You are in such terrible trouble, Blue. You're just all the way wrapped up in a bind right now." He said the words so slowly and deliberately that I didn't know what he was going to say it first, and then my smile began to grow when I realized.
"What kind of trouble?" I asked, flirting with him. "What kind of bind?"
"The kind that makes you, just… stuck with me, Blue."
"That sounds like the opposite of trouble to me, Mr. Patterson."
His green stare roamed slowly over my face. "You're making it worse by the second."
I grinned. "Good. I'm trying to."
He pulled back just slightly, focusing more intently on my eyes. "Just so we're on the same page," he said. "Right now, I'm saying that you're getting stuck with me. That's the kind of trouble we're talking about, right?"
I nodded.
"And you're trying to get in that trouble?" he asked.
"I'm trying super hard," I said. "That's what I thought the job interview was about."
"You're… hired…" he whispered the words distractedly as he gazed at me. "You're hired, and you're in trouble, and you're… whatever else we said."
"I want to live here with you," I said.
I felt nervous and I squirmed, shifting and squeezing him. He moved to the side, catching my eye.
"Blue, I want you to be mine," he said. "If anything, I'm the one who feels like I'm being interviewed. I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives. You living here with me seems like the best possible scenario I could ever imagine. I can't think of anything better than that."
"Because I want to," I said. "I want to help you—to be a part of this place. I think I could stand by you. I want to do that."
He stared at me. "I move in after Thanksgiving. You should come with me."
I knew his plan. The hotel wouldn't open until January, but he would move into the suite beforehand. The penthouses and rooftop would be completely done by then, and moving in meant he could more efficiently prep everything for the opening.
It was currently the end of September.
This meant he would be moving in two months. I had no idea if he was being serious or not about me moving in with him. I knew marriage would precede a move, therefore, part of me thought it was a slightly empty offer—like maybe he was just saying it to be nice.
"Too fast?" he asked when I got lost in thought. "I'll be patient."
"No, no, not too fast. I was just thinking, wondering if you were serious or not. I mean, I know we would want to get marri—"
"I am eight-hundred percent serious," he said. "I am as serious as you can get."
"I know, but we were talking about marriage, and—"
"I know," he said, nodding and cutting me off again. "And I know it's a lot to think about. But I just want you to know I'm ready to have that conversation when you are. I can't imagine being okay with just trying to see you on the weekends."
"That would be pretty terrible, huh?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Taylor." I said his name while I stared at him, and he tilted his face at me.
"Yeah?" he said.
"I…"
I wanted so badly to say that I loved him. I said it to him on the phone right before he left on his flight to California. I hadn't planned on saying it then, but I always got nervous with airplane travel, and the words just came out of my mouth.
He had returned the sentiment on the phone, but it felt different in person. The thing was, I did love him. Maybe it was fast for some people, and maybe a few years ago, or even a few months, I would have said I didn't believe it was possible to love like this—so quickly and intensely. But things were different now.
My mom always said 'you better keep your words soft and sweet because you never know when you might have to eat them'. Sure enough, I had gone from skeptic to believer when it came to love. There was such a thing as someone who was just meant for me, and that person was Taylor Patterson.
I knew it down in my soul.
His smile grew as he stared at me.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"You. You said my name and then you started to say something but then you started spacing out."
"I was thinking about how I wanted to say it, but then I got shy."
"Say what?" he asked.
"That I love you," I whispered, running my fingertips through the hair above his ear.
"That you what?" he asked, lowering his ear to me like he wanted me to repeat it.
I stretched upward, putting my mouth right next to his. He leaned in, thinking I was going to kiss him, but I stopped just shy of his mouth, letting mine linger next to him. "Just that I… love… you…"
"Guess what?" He was in no hurry when he whispered the words back to me.
"What?" I asked. "You love me too?"
"Yes, I do," he said, his lips were so close to mine that I could feel the warmth his breath as he spoke.
I leaned back in his arms, pulling him toward me, and causing our mouths to finally meet.
Things had changed between us since the last time we kissed. I felt really serious about him now. I honestly couldn’t see anyone else in my life. I honest to goodness believed we would be together forever.
It was with this assuredness that I gave myself over to him in that kiss.
I began kissing him softly, tenderly, letting our mouths meet time after time in little wet caresses. His kiss was like sugar on my lips. He did it again, and this time, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. The warm slickness of it caused me to lean into him even more, and he deepened the kiss for a second before he pulled back, barely breaking contact.
"I have been waiting for this all week," he whispered next to my mouth. "I felt like I would go crazy waiting."
"Waiting for what?" I asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about.
And then, Taylor Patterson kissed me.
He kissed me better than I've ever been kissed. He pulled me close and covered me with his warm mouth. He took control, kissing me deeply for a minute before pulling back and smiling at me. He kissed me again after that, and then again and again.
We stood in that living room and talked and embraced for at least an hour.
We didn't even bother sitting on the couch.
Maybe we would have gotten ourselves into trouble sitting on the couch. Maybe he knew that.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed (I thought at least an hour) when Taylor said, "I'm sorry, baby girl, but my phone is blowing up. I hate this, but I need to look at it."
I nodded before placing one last chaste kiss on his cheek. I turned and pointed toward the hall as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
"Do you mind if I look around?" I asked. I didn't want to get in the way of his business or crowd his space when he was trying to talk on the phone, so I thought I could show myself around.
Taylor didn’t answer my question. "It's your dad," he said, pushing buttons on his phone. "Hang on. I think your dad might be here." He was speaking in a choppy tone as he read whatever was on his screen. "Hold on," he said again. "I'm gonna try to call him. I think he's trying to get into the hotel."
He put his phone to his ear, and I waited, listening to hear what he would say.