When we meet up at the Lima Bean on Tuesday morning, Kurt sets a small cardboard box on the table. I raise my eyebrows, waiting, and he smiles.

"I ordered this online. It arrived yesterday." He turns the lid toward me so that I can see the title.

"Getting to Know You," I read aloud. "A thousand and one conversation starters. Perfect for adult parties." I look up at him. "Wait... adult parties? Like the ones where you put your name in a bowl, and—"

"Not swingers parties," he interrupts, flushing. "It just means that some of the questions arent suitable for children. My stepmom mentioned that her friend Debbie does a lot of internet dating, and that she uses these questions to weed out the weirdos."

"So youre trying to figure out if Im a weirdo?" I tease.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Im trying to help us get to know one another better. We dont have to do it if you dont want to."

"No, no, I think its a great idea. Lets try it out."

He opens the shrink-wrapped box and shuffles the cards while go up to the counter to pick up our coffees. By the time I return to our table, hes stacked the cards into two piles of about equal height. "So how should we do this?" he asks. "If I read a question to you, do I have to answer it too? Or just you?"

I shrug gamely. "Im fine either way. Maybe we can play it by ear, see if the question inspires a conversation. Some are bound to be duds, right?"

"Right." He takes a sip of his coffee, and I watch as his pink tongue darts out to lick a drop off his lower lip. "Should I start?"

Yes, because I need a moment to commit that visual to my permanent memory. If I even have such a thing as permanent memory anymore. "Sure."

He picks the first card off his stack. "What did you do during recess in elementary school?"

"Dud question," I answer, and he cocks his head quizzically. "We didnt have recess in my elementary school."

"Seriously?"

"Yup." I draw a card from my pile, and read, "What was your favorite Disney movie when you were a child?"

He thinks for a moment, scrunching up his nose adorably. "Probably The Little Mermaid."

"How come?"

"I guess I identified with Ariel. She grew up feeling like she didnt belong. She loved her father and her friends, but she knew there was more for her out there."

I study his wistful face and feel a tug of guilt. "You would have left Lima after high school, if it werent for me."

"No," he corrects me. "We would have left Lima, together, if it werent for the attack."

"But you waited around for me all year—"

"If Ariel had to choose between moving back under the sea with Eric, or staying on land alone, which one do you think shed pick?" he presses, his voice quiet. "Sometimes its not about the place you end up. Sometimes its about who you end up with, and knowing that they make you truly happy." He absently thumbs the corner of his stack of cards. "Im glad I waited around for you all this time. Seems to have worked out for me, dont you think?"

I reach out to squeeze his hand, smiling shyly at him as he reads the next card.

By the end of our Wednesday coffee date, Ive learned Kurts favorite color, biggest pet peeves, favorite way to unwind after a long day, non-seasonal allergies, and ideal honeymoon locale. In return, hes learned my favorite position to sleep in, most memorable vacation, favorite season, least favorite musical genre, and childhood celebrity crush (well, not really... I tried claiming it was one of the Hanson brothers, but from the smirk that wouldnt leave his face, I know I must have admitted the embarrassing truth to him at some point last year).

"So," he says, as he tries to make a house out of the cards weve read today. "Friday."

"Friday," I nod, pointedly ignoring the fluttering of anticipation in my stomach. "Ready to tell me what were doing on our date?"

"I told you, its nothing exciting. Its just going to be low-key."

"Not even a hint?"

"Nope."

"Fine," I reply, trying to keep the whine out of my voice. "What should I wear? Since youre in charge of choosing my attire and all..."

"Something casual and comfortable. Maybe one of your green sweaters; they bring out your eyes. Jeans will be fine. " His house of cards teeters and collapses, and he frowns. "Your turn."

I draw a new card from the pile and set it back down. "Ugh, dud."

"Whats it say?"

"Nothing. Ill get a different one."

"Blaine."

"I dont—"

"Just read it."

I pick it up begrudgingly. "If you could permanently alter one thing about your physical appearance, what would you choose?"

He blinks. "How is that a dud question?"

"Because youre perfect. You shouldnt change anything about yourself."

I dont think Ive ever seen him look quite so speechless. The tips of his ears are turning a brilliant red. "You think Im perfect?"

"Please. You ought to be on some runway in Italy, not stuck in a coffee shop in Ohio."

"God, Blaine, I l—" he abruptly stops speaking, then swallows. "Thanks. I would have said I would change my—"

"Perfect," I insist, and he laughs as he draws a new card from his pile.

"If you had to have sex simultaneously with two people you know," he reads, "who would you want them to be?"

I furrow my brow in confusion. "How can you have sex simultaneously with two people?"

"Is that a trick question?" When I dont respond, Kurt realizes that it isnt. "Think about Legos fitting together."

"Oh." My eyes widen as I get it. "Oh."

"Did you really not know that?"

I shrug one shoulder, embarrassed. "Ive never really had a boyfriend... well, one that I can remember. And I keep meaning to research whats entailed beyond the basics — its not like they covered it in sex ed class — but I figured Id wait until I was interested in dating someone, so Id know what I was getting myself into. Then when I woke up after the attack, and I was with my parents all the time... there didnt seem to be a good time to start Googling gay sex, you know?"

He doesnt say anything. I start to squirm in my seat.

"I know," I blurt out. "I know. I have about as much sexual knowledge as—"

"A baby penguin?" he suggests, and I snort.

"I was going to say a first grader, but okay. That works too." My eyes shift away from his keen gaze. "So we, uh... we had..."

"Yes."

"More than once?"

"Oh yes."

"Were you my..."

"Yes. You were my first, too." He pauses, then adds, "My only."

I take a big gulp of my coffee, and even though its grown cold, I can feel a warmth spreading inside me just the same.

Sebastian calls that afternoon to invite me to a movie, and I accept his offer at once. Its an ideal scenario — two hours of not having to make small talk, and it will still count as our second date. Ill be one step closer to being able to see Kurt exclusively.

What I dont factor in, though, is just how dark a movie theater is, and just how low Sebastians hand drifts as he guides me toward the seats. I almost drop the two sodas Im carrying when he hooks his thumb under my belt and slides his fingers lower.

In a rare stroke of brilliance, I enter a row and move all the way over so that Im sitting next to a woman my moms age. She looks up at me and smiles, giving me the perfect opportunity to ask her what shes heard about the film, and whether she thinks George Clooneys Oscar buzz will be warranted.

After a few minutes, theres a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Sebastian scowling at me. "Should I go?" he asks. "I wouldnt want to interrupt your date with Demi Moore over there."

Hes right, I realize. Im being incredibly rude. Yes, his hand was a bit lower on my back than I would have preferred, but did I tell him it made me uncomfortable? How was he to know?

"Im sorry," I murmur, wrapping my lips around my straw and taking a sip of my drink.

"Its okay," he whispers in my ear. "Do you want to move to the back row, so I can blow you?"

I choke on my soda, coughing and sputtering as the trailers mercifully begin. Sebastian settles for placing his hand on my knee. Its not inappropriate for a date, I dont think. Hes just letting it rest there. But then hes... oh... his palm is drifting up my thigh. He squeezes it hard, halfway up, and I feel myself stirring. Hes moving it even higher now—

I move my soda so its positioned firmly over my groin. The sudden cold squelches my arousal, and the cup blocks his hand from wandering any further.

"I keep forgetting youre a born-again virgin," he mutters, his lips grazing my earlobe. God help me, but I cant help shivering a little in response.

I spend the rest of the movie sunk down in my seat, my stomach turning, feeling like Im cheating on Kurt somehow.

"Two dates down," I tell Kurt the next morning when he arrives at our table. "Just one more to go, and then you can have me all to yourself."

Kurt accepts the coffee I have waiting for him. "Two dates already? Really?"

"Really," I say, counting off on my fingers. "We went to Scandals on Monday, and a movie yesterday."

"Hmm." He sips his coffee with an inscrutable expression. "Did he ask you out again?"

"Yup. This Saturday. Scandals is having another karaoke night. A few songs and Im hitting the road." So that I dont run into that Dave guy again, I dont add. I pop the lid off the Getting to Know You box, setting aside the rubber-banded cards weve already gone through. "This is real, Kurt. Its going to happen. You and I are going to happen."

He busies himself by stacking the cards in piles, and I kindly pretend not to notice how wet his eyes have become. He clears his throat a couple of times before reading aloud his first card. "If you could teach your child one lesson, what would it be?"

"Uh. Wow." I chew on my bottom lip, thinking. "Id want to, uh... god. Just one lesson?"

"Thats what the card says."

"I guess... Id want my kid to treat everyone with kindness." Hes nodding pensively, so I ask, "What about you? What would you teach your kid?"

"That he matters," he says simply.

Theres a story there, Im sure, but I dont push it. Instead, I pick up another card. And immediately start to laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"Would you ever kiss someone of the same gender as you?" He laughs too, loudly, and a couple of people at nearby tables turn to stare at us. "Okay, Im changing it," I tell him. "Would you ever kiss someone of the opposite gender?"

"I already have," he admits, a little sheepishly.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was during a dark period in my life. I, uh... I wore... trucker caps. And plaid flannel." He looks so traumatized, but Im still laughing.

"Well, I have you beat, I guess," I say proudly. "Ive never kissed a girl." His expression shifts into something appraising and sly, and I can feel the smile slowly fade from my face. "What?" His dimple is showing. Hes clearly trying not to laugh. "No... Ive kissed a girl?"

"Twice, actually. Same girl, both times."

"But why? Im gay! I am so gay!"

"Not arguing there."

"Who was she? I mean, did I think she was a boy at the time?"

He pauses dramatically. "Her name... is Rachel Berry. She has long hair and wears knee socks. And headbands. And sweaters with animals on them."

I drop my head into my palms, humiliated. "Are you sure this wasnt after I was brain-damaged?"

"No," he assures me. "No, you knew what you were doing. You two kissed and sang a drunken duet and you were smitten, for a time. I mean, dont get me wrong, Rachel has her good points. She may be irritating, but she means well. And god, her singing talent is incredible, eclipsed only by her overinflated ego. Shes an only child whos been spoiled by her two gay fathers her whole life."

I look up, incredulous. "And she didnt pick up on my gayness?"

"You were doubting it yourself at that point." Hes straightening his pile, avoiding my gaze.

I blink at him in realization. "I hurt you."

"What?"

"When I questioned my sexuality, I hurt your feelings."

He nods. "You did, yes."

"Im sorry."

"I... It wasnt even you," he reminds me.

"Im still sorry."

He smiles at me, a real smile, before drawing another card. "If you were granted one wish, what would you choose?"

A hundred different options run through my head. Everything from I wish I didnt have to go on that third date with Sebastian to I wish I were taller to I wish the attack had never happened to I wish I could remember you...

"Can I get back to you on that?"

"You know its not a real wish, right, Blaine? Im not a genie."

"Does that mean I dont get to rub your lamp?"

His laugh rings out again, loud and ridiculous and I cant remember the last time I felt this giddy with happiness.

We make arrangements to meet at the Lima Bean as usual on Friday morning. I agonize over what to wear, eventually settling on jeans and a soft sage green sweater. I leave Robs apartment extra-early so Ill have time to make a special stop on the way. My GPS leads me to a florist shop between here and Lima that opens at eight oclock.

Once Im inside, I know that Ive been in here before. Theres something familiar about the heady aroma of flowers, the cool humidity, the low hum of glass coolers along the walls. I scan the tiny shop, hoping to jog a memory, but nothing comes.

"May I help you?" A clerk has emerged from the back room, her arms laden with gorgeous stargazer lilies.

"Ah, yes, thank you. Id like to buy some flowers."

"Then youve come to the right place," she quips, placing the lilies in a glass vase. "Any flowers in particular?"

"Uh..." Amazingly, with all the cards weve gone through, Kurts favorite flowers have never come up. "Roses?" I guess.

"Well, our supply of roses isnt great in the winter months. But you can check out that section over there." She gestures toward a row of glass coolers. "Let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks." I wander over to the rose section and stare at the options, puzzled. What sort of message do I want to convey? Red means love, of course, but I dont want to come on overly strong. Pink seems too girly, white seems too innocent. Finally I open the cooler door, pulling out a handful of red-tipped roses and another handful of yellow roses. Love and friendship. What message could be better? I bring the flowers over to the counter, carefully laying them down as the clerk finishes arranging her vase of lilies.

"All set?"

"Yes. Id like these in a bouquet, please."

She smiles. "You have a good eye. These are beautiful."

"Yeah. They are." I grin dopily, watching as she wraps the roses in green tissue paper and ties a wide silk ribbon around the pretty bouquet.

"What are they for?" she asks.

"To celebrate," I say, digging out my wallet.

"Special occasion?"

"Special person."

The clerk smiles in appreciation. I hand over my credit card and lean down to smell the roses.

"Tell your special person to hang a couple of the roses upside-down in a cool, dark place. Theyll dry nicely," she says as she hands me my receipt.

"Will do. Thanks."

I head back outside, laying the roses on the passenger seat before climbing back into my car. I take a deep breath as I start the ignition, pointing my car toward Lima.