Im already in the Lima Bean parking lot when I start to second-guess myself about the flowers. Kurt said it himself — this is supposed to be a low-key date, and yet Im showing up with a dozen and a half roses. Where is he supposed to put them? Its not like he has a vase in his trunk. This was a stupid idea.

I sit in the car for a full five minutes, debating with myself, until a tap at the window gets my attention. Hes standing next to my car, looking gorgeous as ever. I get caught up in staring at him, so he knocks again pointedly. "Roll down the window, Blaine," he calls.

I do. "Good morning."

"Morning. I must have missed the memo — are we having coffee in your car today?" His tone is light, but his eyes are worried.

I sigh with embarrassment. Leaning my head down against the steering wheel, I grab the flowers off the passenger seat and thrust them out the window at him. He takes them without a word, and after too much silence has passed, I take a chance and peek up at him. Hes staring at the flowers with the strangest look on his face.

"I, um..." He swallows.

"What?"

He closes his eyes and smells the roses. "Theyre lovely."

Relief flooding my veins and a smile pulling at my lips, I pluck the key out of the ignition and get out of my car. "Well? Whats in store for us today?"

"A bunch of things. Lets get some coffee and weigh our options." I follow him into the Lima Bean. Our usual table is occupied, so after getting our coffee from the barista, we choose a table by the window. Kurt takes out a spiral pad of paper, flipping forward until he finds a page with a handwritten list on it. "First of all—"

"Im sorry," I say teasingly, "but did you take notes? Is there going to be a test later?"

"First of all, we need to decide what were doing first today."

"Drinking coffee, it would seem."

"Arent you feisty this morning. I couldnt decide which of these to do, so you get to decide. Either we drive a couple of towns over, where theyre having a two-day carnival with games and kiddie rides—"

"Awesome. Please, continue, but awesome."

"Or we could swing by Dalton and take a nostalgic tour of the campus together."

My heart stops. We cant possibly go to Dalton. What if we run into Sebastian or his friends, and Kurt sees his so-called competition up close and personal, and hears all of the inappropriate things that Sebastian is sure to say to me— "Carnival," I blurt out. "I mean, its only here for a couple of days, and Daltons been around for over a hundred years. Chances are, itll still be there if we want to visit some other time."

He accepts the excuse with a smile, and my pulse starts back up again. "Carnival it is."

"Were doing that all day?"

"Oh, no. Plenty of surprises in store for you today, my dear." He hops up, taking my hand and pulling me out of the coffee shop, toward my car.

I look around. "Wheres your Navigator? Are you leaving it here?"

"Caught a ride with my dad this morning. Can I drive?" I toss him my key. He unlocks the doors for us and lays the flowers in the back seat carefully before joining me in the car. Then he turns and looks at me thoughtfully. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"Turn your chin a little," he instructs. I turn toward him, and he shakes his head. "No, the other way. Face straight ahead." Confused, I comply, and he leans in swiftly, kissing my cheek. "Thank you for the flowers," he whispers.

Im still smiling when we reach the carnival.

As traveling fairs go, this one is pretty large. From the entrance alone I can spot a ferris wheel, a whirl-a-gig, a log flume, a tilt-a-whirl, and a carousel. The air is heavy with the aroma of french fries and funnel cakes, and I reach out to clasp Kurts hand in anticipation. Then I freeze, looking down. "Is this okay?"

He glances around. The fair is crowded, and nobody seems to be paying attention to us, but he still looks tense. "Um..."

"Its okay." I squeeze his hand and let it go.

"Im sorry."

"Its okay. Really. Can we see what games they have?"

He nods agreeably, and we wander off to check out the booths. Each game costs a quarter, and when Kurt pulls out a baggie filled with silver coins, I cant help squeaking with excitement. We try our hand at the ring toss, both failing miserably. Were just as bad at throwing ping pong balls into glass bottles, and spraying targets with water guns. "These games are rigged," Kurt mutters, shooting a death glare at a little girl whos just sunk her third ping pong ball to win a giant purple gorilla. I laugh at him and drag him over to the whack-a-mole booth. Im rotten at it, but hes concentrating fiercely, and when the timer buzzes, hes won a fuzzy crocodile keychain.

"For you," he says, presenting it to me, and I pretend to swoon. "Shut up and put your car key on it," he says, grinning.

"You have my key."

"Then Ill shut up and put it on." We stop near the caricature booth while he fumbles with the clasp, easing my car key onto the keychain. "There. Now youll never lose it."

"My hero."

We split a sugary funnel cake and take turns making splatter paint designs before heading for the rides.

"Carousel?" I propose.

"Ferris wheel?" he counters, and I agree gamely.

Minutes later, were swooping slowly in a wide circle, fifty feet into the air and back down again. When our car stops at the top, I peek down to make sure were not visible from the ground before I turn to Kurt. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"Turn your—"

He catches on faster than I did, leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. We take our time, sliding our palms together as my tongue creeps out to steal a taste of powdered sugar off his lips. I pull back once the car starts to move again, but I dont let go of his hand.

He doesnt let go of mine, either.

Once weve toured the whole carnival and Ive failed to convince him to get his face painted, we get back in the car. "Where to now?" I ask.

Kurt hums mysteriously. "Youll see."

Were heading back in the direction of Lima, but he doesnt go toward the center of town. Instead, he drives to the outskirts, which is mostly farms and open land. Its hard not to keep asking where were going, but the anticipation of it is half the fun. He parks the car on the side of the road, near the base of a steep hill.

"I cant believe you wore your snow boots," he says, laughing at my footwear.

"I didnt know whether wed be outside today," I reply, embarrassed, before noticing— "Hey! Whore you to judge? Youre wearing snow boots too!"

He waggles his eyebrows at me before getting out of the car and starting up the hill. After a moment, I clamber out and follow him. When I catch up, he intertwines our fingers and swings our hands back and forth as we climb.

Im not dressed right for this. My cashmere sweater is too nice, and my woolen coat is going to smell if I get too much snow on it, and I really should have worn thicker socks. But Kurts hand is so warm, and our elbows and shoulders bump together as we walk.

How is it that this simple closeness is more arousing than Sebastians hand boldly squeezing my upper thigh?

We reach the top of the hill, and Kurt lets go of my hand. "Wait here. And close your eyes." I oblige, breathing in the cold, crisp air and listening to the crunch of his feet in the snow as he walks away. He returns shortly, and I can hear a sliding sound joining that of his footfalls. "Okay, open them." Hes standing in front of me, a long wooden toboggan at his side.

"Sledding?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"Yup."

"Ive never..."

"Youve never been sledding?"

"My mom never let me. Said it was too dangerous."

He sits down on the back of the toboggan, spreading his legs out and patting the empty area in front of him. "Courage, Blaine." I settle down in front of him, bending my knees to fit. His feet slide in behind mine, his legs pressed against the outside of my thighs, and he winds his arms tightly around my chest.

Did I say walking up the hill was arousing? Because nothing could possibly top this. Im hard enough to cut diamonds.

"Grab the reins," he says softly into my ear. "Youll have to steer us. Tell me when youre ready, and Ill push us off."

My heart is racing with adrenaline. He squeezes my chest a little tighter, and I nod. He takes his feet off the board, stepping down onto the snow and pushing hard. We start to slide forward and he tucks his feet back against mine just as the front of the toboggan tips forward. And then were flying, flying down the hill, cold wind shocking my face and Kurts whoops of glee filling my ears. We drift to the right, so I tug on the left rein, straightening our path. My stomach drops into my knees with the speed of the toboggan as it races down the hill. All too soon its over, and were sliding to a stop about thirty feet from the car.

"Shall we go again?" Kurt murmurs, and I nod vigorously. We head back up the hill, faster this time, still hand-in-hand with the toboggan dragging behind us. When we reach the top, he asks, "Do you want to sit in the back this time?"

"Sure." I sit down on the back of the toboggan, holding out my arms, and he sits in front of me, sliding back until hes pressed tightly against me. I wrap my arms around him, nestling my forehead against his neck, and Im stunned by the emotion that floods me. I dont move, and he doesnt move. I can feel by the slight shake of his ribcage that hes trying not to cry. "This is how we slept?" I whisper. He nods, and I blow out a long breath.

More than the Lima Bean, more than Robs apartment, more than even Kurts kisses, this feels like home. I hold him tightly, and he lets go of the reins to grip my hands against him.

I dont know how long we sit there together. Its long enough for Kurts tears to finally fall, and long enough for them to finally stop. By the time we sled down to the bottom of the hill, we both know we wont be climbing it again. I help him load the toboggan into the trunk, and he starts the car. As he drives back in the direction of Lima, I loosen my seatbelt enough so that I can lean over and lay my head on his shoulder. We dont talk, but between the slide of the toboggan in the trunk and the rustling of the bouquet tissue paper and the clutter of my thoughts, Im not sure the car could stand another sound.

Kurt pulls up outside his house, which may have been the last place I expected him to take me. "My parents are at a wedding in Columbus," he says when I look at him questioningly. "They wont be back until late, so dont worry about meeting them."

"But Ill meet them someday, right?" I press. "Soon?"

The tension in his forehead relaxes a bit. "Come on, lets go inside."

The house is still as small and strange as I remember. I start to remove my coat, but he stops me, so I leave it on and watch as he retrieves a covered basket from the refrigerator. "Are we having a picnic?" I ask. "Outside?" That cant be it. The temperature is hovering just above freezing.

And yet hes nodding. Hey, I figure, if Im going to get hypothermia for anyone, Kurts probably worth it.

We make our way through the house quickly. He hands me a couple of thick woolen blankets from the hall closet, then leads me out into the backyard, where I stop and stare in surprise. In front of us, dominating the little yard, is a tall oak tree. And in the oak is a very old treehouse. "This was the only part of the house that got me excited when we moved here," he confesses. "Always wanted one of these as a kid."

"Would you have put up one of those No Girls Allowed signs?"

He just smirks in response. There are weathered planks nailed into the tree trunk, forming a makeshift ladder. He hooks the picnic basket over his elbow and climbs the ladder easily. I follow after him, all the way up through a hole at the base of the treehouse. Its not nearly as frigid in here as Id feared — the walls and roof may look rickety, but they seem to keep out the worst of the cold. Kurt takes one of the blankets from me and spreads it out over the plywood floor.

"So whats for dinner?" I ask, sitting down beside him.

"Nothing fancy," he says. I help him unload the basket, until theres a plate of turkey sandwiches, a platter of baby carrots and homemade hummus, a bowl of sliced strawberries, and a couple of apple juice boxes in front of us.

I beam at him and steal a carrot. "This looks perfect."

He blushes. "Thank you."

"And I love hummus."

Im so busy crunching away that I almost miss his soft, "I know."

We eat together quietly, sitting with our sides pressed together, huddled under the extra blanket for warmth. I almost ask if weve done this before, but then I remember that the Hummels moved here several months after our attack. The old Blaine never saw this house.

The old Blaine never saw this Kurt, either. I wonder, not for the first time, what his Kurt was like. I wonder if they were carefree together, planning for their future and picking out ring designs and singing to each other on long car rides. Its probably too idyllic, what Im imagining, but what do I know? Were both scarred and broken versions of our former selves.

Eventually the temperature grows too cold to stay outside. We pack up the leftovers from our dinner, carrying them down the ladder and into the house. I help him tidy up, and then theres nothing left to do. We both stand in his kitchen awkwardly. Its dark out, and weve spent the whole day together. Maybe he wants me to leave.

God, I hope he doesnt want me to leave.

He rubs his neck absently. "How about a movie?"

"Yes," I say too quickly, earning me a relieved smile.

"What would you like to watch?"

"Anything."

We head into the living room, draping our coats over an armchair. Kurt pops in the first DVD he finds — The Bourne Supremacy — before sitting beside me on the couch. I keep sneaking peeks at him as the movie begins. When he finally catches me looking, I murmur self-consciously, "Can... can we?"

Somehow, he knows what Im asking. He doesnt say anything, but his eyes get very wide as he nods. I shift to lie down along the back of the couch, and he lies in front of me. My arms curl around him, and he lets out a loud, contented sigh. I nestle my face in his hair. He smells so good, I notice drowsily, and he feels like he was made to fit in my arms. I wont let myself fall asleep like this, though. I want to remember every moment of how this feels.

The movie is nearly over when I hear noises coming from the kitchen. Before I have time to get alarmed, a tall guy wanders into the living room, his arm shoved deep into a bag of potato chips as he chews. "Hey Kurt. Hey Blaine," he mumbles with his mouth full. Then he freezes, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open. "Dude."

Kurt is up off the couch in an instant, hurrying toward him. "Finn—"

"Blaine! Thats Blaine!"

"Youre not supposed to be here—" Kurts pulling on his brothers arm, trying to drag him back to the kitchen, but Finn isnt budging.

"What does this mean? Did he get his memory back?"

"No, lets just—"

"Wait, is it not really Blaine? Is it just some guy who looks like him? Because thats creepy, Kurt."

"Its Blaine," Kurt insists weakly. Then he stops pulling at Finn altogether. "Its really him."

And now theyre hugging each other, Finn laughing incredulously, and I have absolutely no clue whats going on. I stand up and walk over, extending my hand. "Its nice to meet you, Finn."

He shakes the potato chip crumbs off his hand before clasping mine warmly. "So good to see you, man. I cant believe Mom didnt tell me. Well have to have you over for the next Friday night dinner."

Kurt looks away. "Finn—"

"And theres a big game on Monday, you should come over and watch it with me and Burt."

"Finn—"

"What?"

"You cant tell them about this. About Blaine."

"Tell... Wait, they dont know?" Finn looks about as appalled as I feel. "Why not?"

"Promise me, Finn. Promise me you wont tell."

"But—" He looks like hes going to object, but something in Kurts expression changes his mind. "Fine, I guess," he says finally. "If youre sure—"

"Im sure."

"Then I wont."

"Thank you."

My cheeks are burning with humiliation. "I should go," I mutter, grabbing my coat. "Before your parents get back and see me." Because apparently Im something that needs to be hidden.

Kurt walks me to the kitchen door, looking conflicted. "Im sorry," he says, as Finn gives me an uncertain wave goodbye. "He was supposed to be staying over at his girlfriends apartment tonight. They must have had another argument—"

"Are you ashamed to be with me?" I interrupt.

He gapes at me. "What? Of course not."

"Then why arent you telling your family?"

"I..." He sighs. "Its not that Im ashamed. I promise."

"Then what is it? Did they not like me?"

"No, they loved you. Thats the problem. It was hard enough on them when we lost you the first time around."

And now were back to this again. "Why do you keep thinking Im going to leave you?" I demand, frustrated. "Why cant you just have faith in me, for once?"

"Look, once youve gone on your last date—"

"Its stupid," I tell him. "Your rule is stupid. I dont even want to go on these dates. I dont know what youre trying to prove to me—"

"Im trying to prove it to me," he bursts out. "Faith doesnt come easily to me, Blaine. If I see that you can go out with someone else and still want me afterwards—"

"I have! I do!"

He puts his hands on my shoulders, steadying me. "One more date," he breathes. "Just one more. Please."

"Can you come over afterwards? Be at Robs apartment waiting for me when I get back?" He shakes his head quickly, and I frown. "Right. Because you think theres still a chance I will have chosen the other guy."

"Just call me afterwards, like you did before. So I know youre home safe."

"And alone," I sigh.

"And alone, yes."

"And then we can start talking about our future for real?" I press. "Telling your family, planning for New York, deciding—"

"If you still want me after your date, then we can talk about all that. Yes."

I lean in to kiss him, and he kisses back, harder than Id expect. "Ill talk to you tomorrow," I assure him.

"Maybe."

"Ill talk to you tomorrow," I repeat firmly, kissing him again before he can disagree with me. We stand in his doorway, kissing more and more desperately, and I try not to think about how it feels as though were saying goodbye. I pull back, studying his beautiful face, pale with anxiety. "Tomorrow," I whisper. I kiss him on the cheek and leave.

All the way home, I think and plan and dream for whats in store for us. Because theres no way Sebastian Smythe or anyone else could ever touch what we have.