Gossip Girl: It Had To Be You

Even though he's not a cat person

"Want to meet my new kitten?" Blair took Nate's hand and pulled him down the hall to her bedroom. They hadn't even talked in the car on the way home from the Tribeca Star. They hadn't talked much all night. They'd just been kissing—in the steamy hot tub, in their comfy white robes, on the crowded sofa while they shared one last cocktail, and then in the cab on the way home. It was as if they couldn't get enough of each other. They just wanted to kiss and kiss. Like they'd been craving something for years but hadn't known what it was and now finally they'd found it.

Yum.

A small gray cat with creepy blue eyes lay curled up on Blair's bed.

"There you are," Blair greeted the kitten tenderly and picked him up, cradling him in her arms.

"He's a Russian Blue." She handed the kitten to Nate. "Kitty Minky, this is your daddy."

Nate wasn't an animal person, and he definitely wasn't anybody's daddy. "Hey," he greeted the cat gruffly. "What's up?" Kitty Minky kneaded his claws into his hand and Nate released him onto the floor.

"Careful!" Blair cried out sharply. She scooped the cat up again. "He's just a baby."

"Sorry." Nate stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling a little self-conscious. He'd been in Blair's room a thousand times, but her mom and brother were home and he just felt . . . weird. He'd wanted to finally do it tonight, but he didn't know if he could do it with that cat watching. Or in the bed he used to play hide-and-seek under all the time when he was little. He walked over to her white flat-screen TV and flicked it on. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

God, was he adorable. "No. Come here." Instead of waiting for him to go over to her, Blair pounced, yanking his belt out of his pants and whipping it across the room. She giggled. "I know we just got dressed, but . . ." Then she kissed him, reminding him of why he was there.

Okay, now he didn't feel so weird. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed. Then he let the cat out of the room.

Meow-meow, no watchie. Bye-bye.

He went back to the bed and took off his heather gray T-shirt. Blair followed his movements with a little smile on her lips. "I love you, Nate," she whispered, blushing.

Nate stared down at her, wondering what to say. Not that he didn't love her. Of course he loved her. She was Blair. He just wasn't ready to get all . . . boyfriendy about it. Right now he just wanted to take her dress off. He grabbed the hem and began to tug it up. Up, up, up and over her head. Damn, dresses were great. Just one big piece of material over the head and blam!—she was practically naked.

Blair's underwear was the kind that makes girls look more naked. Dirty-magazine underwear, with lacy stuff on it. He was afraid to touch it. Instead, he lay down next to her and sort of stroked her arm, her shoulder, her neck. She propped her head up on her hand and smiled at him.

"Nate?"

"Hmm," he responded, his green eyes closed. Her skin was soft, her hair silky.

"You didn't say anything. I said I loved you, and you didn't say anything." She waited expectantly.

Nate opened his eyes. She wasn't going to let him get away with it. "I love you too," he responded automatically. "I thought you knew."

Blair was not a religious person, not really, but she was having a religious experience. Nate was a god, her god, and he'd blessed her with his love.

Oh, lordy!

"You can kiss me now, you idiot," she commanded, grabbing his golden head. They kissed for a while, happily, hungrily. Then she pushed his head away again. "I'm not ready to have sex," she declared simply. "We will have sex soon," she promised, her face serious. "When I'm ready."