19. Chapter 19

Alec insists on taking me on an inspiration tour today since he has the day off. My confession about my fears surprised me, but I guess it shouldn't.

He has shared some of his past with me, and I can trust him. I rarely let new people into my life––he's an exception.

I was hoping last night would end with us in bed together. I'm trying not to be grumpy, especially after my sister offered me advice that I found both insulting and eye-opening.

I've never in my life had to put effort into dating. By the time I was fifteen, I was playing with the academy for our international team. If I found someone attractive and if my schedule permitted it, we'd date. But traveling to make the Swedish international team and then playing in the Premier League left little time for relationships. My sister pointed out that my partners made the sacrifices, and I did whatever the helvete I wanted.

Perspective is everything. I thought I was attentive, caring, and loyal. Loyalty is the only quality I consistently maintained. I would never cheat. So I achieved the lowest level of a good boyfriend. According to my sister, I haven't been willing to reach higher than basement level. Admitting she is right hurts.

But I can be better in the future. In the meantime, I can practice good boyfriend behavior on Alec. He's not interested in a relationship, but I can practice putting someone else's needs ahead of mine. Maybe when I go back home, I'll be ready for a real relationship.

"You're scowling as if you want to go on a murderous rampage." Alec's lips turn up in a half smirk.

I unclench my jaw. "Sorry." For some reason dating a Swede who isn't expressive like Alec doesn't appeal to me.

"You don't have to do this. I thought it'd help—"

I interrupt. "No, it will help. A day with you." And that is one hundred percent the truth.

"Okay, we're here." Alec opens the door and I slide out after him.

I step onto the sidewalk and tilt my head so far back, Alec grabs my arm to prevent me from toppling over into the street. It's an enormous cathedral, and even though I'm not religious, the sheer beauty of it staggers me.

"This is St. Patrick's." Alec swaggers toward the cathedral.

I expect him to open the grandiose wooden doors, which stand a couple of stories high, but he walks around the corner and knocks on a side door. A heavily tattooed man greets Alec with a half hug and thump on the back. He extends his hand to me and leads us down a long hall that opens up into the cathedral.

The opulence is something that could never be replicated today. I stand there, insignificant amid the rows and rows of pews resting on stunning marble among the towering regal columns standing sentry. The stained glass seems miles above me, and I wish I could trace the intricate designs. I commit them to memory. It must have taken decades to create. The man tells me what I assume are interesting facts and the history of the church, but my eyes are so overwhelmed my ears can't listen.

We're able to walk around and I run my hands over the wooden pews, needing tactile confirmation of the experience. Alec's friend leaves us alone and I investigate the enclaves, admiring the workmanship while he explains the religious significance of every part of the church. I admire the rituals and traditions.

The sun creates rainbows of light from the stained glass. Each individual pane is elaborate and unique. The amount of time and artistry required to make the thousands or hundreds of thousands of panes is astounding. Alec sits beside me, content to watch me catalog the stories being told by the church.

As we're walking out, I can't help myself. I take Alec's hand to squeeze it. "Thank you."

"This is just the first stop, Viking." He tugs my belt loop, and it takes all my restraint not to yank his hand to pull him into a kiss. I am not familiar with the rules for public displays of affection between fake boyfriends.

A cab takes us to our next stop, and I'm standing in front of Patience, one of the majestic lions guarding the New York City Library, another work of spectacular architecture.

"His brother, Fortitude, is on the Northern side." Alec waits as I examine it.

Patience is lying seemingly relaxed but with the air of power, ready to pounce. Patience and Fortitude are life lessons dressed up in marble, making me realize I need to get over myself.

The grand scale of the building and rooms, once again, humbles me. The ceiling in the main reading room is magnificent and Alec tells me the room itself is over two blocks long. Ornately carved wood panels on the ceiling are inlaid with ethereal murals depicting vibrant, cloudy skies. Painting a ceiling would be torturous. No wonder Michelangelo hated it.

We amble down the center aisle of the room between the tables. The stark lines of the ceiling and the stacks of books are in contrast with the arched windows and chandeliers. The library holds so many treasures, I could spend a week here and not see everything.

Alec has an immense amount of knowledge regarding the library as well. I am totally in awe of him as well as our surroundings.

When he tells me he spent a lot of time here when he was homeless, I have the urge to fight his family and all the people who hurt him. Alec brings out a violent side I never knew I had.

I can't protect him from his past, and I hate thinking of someone harming him in the future.

He brings my focus back to the treasures around us, and too soon, Alec is dragging me out, handing me a bottle of water and a protein bar.

The sun, low in the cloudy gray sky, is the only indication it's late in the day as we rush down a flight of stairs to board a subway train.

"You're staring. Stop it." Alec elbows me, and I notice people watching us.

I have been staring. This is the true meaning of America's melting pot. It's such a departure from Sweden. I've never seen such diversity in one tight tin-can-esque location.

We're standing shoulder to shoulder, hanging onto the overhead bar, and I lean into Alec, soaking up his warmth and energy. An overcrowded subway is hardly the place to seek warmth, but Alec's warmth is more than heat. It's something more that if I try to name, I will forget that this is fake and that I plan to leave the US as soon as I establish myself as an artist.

We emerge onto Wall Street and it's easy to be overwhelmed taking in the sights. I learn my lesson. Trying to walk while looking up can cause vertigo. But Alec holds on to me, so maybe the disorientation is worth it.

He's walking backward down the street, eager to show me our destination. He turns and steps onto a concealed escalator to Elevated Acres.

"This place is spectacular in the spring and summer. It's a green oasis in the middle of the busy city." Alec's steps are slow and measured now.

The wood boardwalks stretch around trees and plants waiting for spring. But the view steals my focus. The skyline alone is breathtaking, but coupled with the water, it turns this spot—awe-inspiring. Millions of people are bustling around this sanctuary, and I bear witness to it all.

The wind off the water stings my face and I'm unable to fight the urge to wrap my arm around Alec as we stand at the railing overlooking the water. Today has been a gift.

"Is this where you either toss me over or politely maneuver me into place to block the wind for you?" His hair is blowing sideways and his dimples peek out to kill me where I stand.

"Good options." I use my free hand to tap a finger to my lips. "It's hard to decide." It's so cold, every muscle in my face aches.

"Someone is hangry." Alec throws an arm up over my shoulder but tilts off balance.

My arm around him tightens as I lift him off his feet and laugh. I'm not exactly sure what hangry means, but he's teasing me.

"Shit, I guess you've decided on the river." Alec wraps his other arm around my neck and pulls his legs up to bracket my waist. "Not today," he sings, and his dimples deepen.

I imagine us naked in this position and set him down before I embarrass myself in public.

When the sun begins to set, we walk to the nearest subway station.

"So," Alec hesitates, uncharacteristically unsure, "do you think today helped? Did it spark your creative side?"

"It was extraordinary," I say, and I'm rewarded with Alec's face lighting up with sparkling brown eyes, a full smile, and gorgeous dimples. The man's face should be illegal. "I assumed you would take me to the MOMA or some other museum."

Alec is never predictable. Although the MOMA would be impressive, it would make me more insecure, looking at famous works of art. Instead, he's shown me opulent palatial buildings to highlight elegant aesthetics.

I link our fingers together as we find seats on the train. "It was perfect. I never would have thought to visit most of those places and yet their history and beauty are unparalleled. My mind is buzzing with ideas that might burst out of my head."

Alec pulls a small sketch pad and pencil out of his backpack. "Let them all out."

And I do.

My sketches are terrible and not yet to scale, but that's hardly the point. The necklaces I've been dreading to design come out in a flurry of creativity and springboard into ideas for sculptures on a scale I've never attempted to make before. But it isn't daunting. Today's lessons in architecture and construction give me the confidence to take risks.

I worry that I've been ignoring Alec. When I glance up, he's watching me with intent eyes and strokes the back of my neck. He lifts his chin, giving me permission to ride the wave of inspiration.

At our subway stop, Alec holds out his hand, and I would follow this man anywhere. We emerge near Unframed Art. I don't know the city well enough to know if that was the closest stop to his apartment or mine. All I know is I don't want this night to end.

Part of me is scared we will lose the magic of the day once he goes home.

"Come home with me." The words rush out as if my brain already has sex endorphins and can't filter itself properly.

"I can't say no to you, Viking."

"Then don't." I wrap him in a hug.

"I practically orgasmed watching you sketch. I've been waiting for your invitation."

"That means I ignored you, and now I am demanding more of you. I'm selfish and terrible at being a fake boyfriend." My sister was right, I don't put other's needs above my own. I deserve to go home alone. "You shouldn't come home with me." I'm arguing with Alec over something every cell in my body hungers for.

"That's overly dramatic, isn't it?" Alec rests a hand on my neck, and his scent of ink and fresh air nearly brings me to my knees.

I shrug.

"Honestly, Viking, I'm unsure what's going on here. I've never, ever, in the history of my life had to argue with a man to get him to take me home."

He grins, and my body temperature rises from the blatant lust in his eyes. Although he's cocky, I'm also sure it's true.

I run my hands around his shoulders. "I am trying to consider what is best for you."

"So do it while we're in bed." Alec walks backward so he can look at me as he tugs me along. "There's no rule saying you can't obsess over me while I fuck you. Real sex with my fake boyfriend. You up for that?"