A laugh bubbles out of me as I run up the stairs to find him some clothes. When Jordan moved out, he left a couple ofsweatpants and t-shirts just in case he had to spend the night here for whatever reason. We have board-game night once a month at my parents’, and Jordan always ends up being too drunk to drive home, so he crashes on my couch or in his old bedroom.
Diego is coming out of the bathroom when I hand him the clothes, and he thanks me before disappearing inside again. I close my curtains, just because my parents don’t need to see what’s happening in here. My cabin is far enough away so that they can’t see much, but still.
After taking two plates out, filling two glasses with water, and bringing the pizza to the coffee table, I sit on the couch and open the box.
“Half cheese for you, and half sausage and bacon for me,” he says, jumping over the back to sit by my side.
I catch him looking at me with a tenderness that makes my heart burst into fire. It’s like he’s looking at a rainbow peeking through clouds after a long, rainy day. It’s like he’s watching the first bloom of flowers on a spring day.
“I didn’t know if you liked cheese, so I got extra, but, next time, I can get margherita or pesto or—” He pauses when he notices my confused look, a deep, red blush rising on his cheeks. “You’re a vegetarian, right?”
Emotion clogs my throat because Diego’s always been the only man to ever notice the smallest things about me. I’ve never even mentioned being a vegetarian to him. “Good observation.”
He winks before plating a slice for me, then one for himself. “Told you I pay attention to you.”
We eat in silence while watching the movie, and I feel so at peace with him here. I feel his gaze on me on several occasions, but, other than that, he’s completely entranced by the film, which I find adorable.
At one point, we move from our initial positions once we’redone eating. He ate his whole half, but there’s one slice of mine left. I’ve had to close the box so that Tabby doesn’t steal it. Diego lies on the L-part of the couch, a throw blanket covering him from toes to chin. When Tabby comes to sleep on his legs, he doesn’t protest.
“Admit it – you like my cat,” I tease, as I curl under another blanket on the perpendicular part of the sofa. I’d love to cuddle with him, but that goes against everyfriends-with-benefitsandno-strings-attachedrule.
“Nah,” is all he says, his attention fixed on the TV.
He’s a liar. When he thinks I’m not watching, he caresses Tabby under her chin. Sometimes he whispers things to her. Sometimes he cradles her tight enough that she hisses before escaping his strong arms. He’s particularly attached to my cat, whether he admits it or not.
Only another ten minutes goes by before he speaks again. “Coach called.”
“Was he mad at you?” I crane my neck to look at his profile. Seriously, how does this man become more and more handsome?
“Surprisingly, no. Just told me to rest and wished me a speedy recovery.” It still pains me to see him devastated over his fall and the mistake he made on Thursday morning. We lied to everyone asking about him; we said that he’d caught a tough cold.
“See? He just wants you to be well,” I murmur, drawing his gaze to me. He nods, and when his stare lingers on me, with the reflection of the TV screen lighting the side of his face, his features soften for some reason. “Do you miss your apartment in Utah?”
I want to ask about his life over there, about what pushes him to stay in another state. I think that, deep down, I want him tocome back here. I want to give him a reason to stay – bethereason – but that’s so selfish of me.
My question seems to break his daze. “No,” he replies without a beat of hesitation.
“Is it big?”
“Yeah. Come here, I’ll show you some pics.”
He shifts to rest his back against a mountain of throw pillows, opens the blanket – which prompts Tabby to leave – and spreads his legs to invite me in between them. I rest my back against his chest and, like this, caged in by his strong body, I feel immensely safe.
He thumbs through his phone while he wraps his free arm around my collarbone. I melt into him. Sink into his affection. Don’t even care if the line is so blurry and on the cusp of being smudged right now. It doesn’t seem like he cares about that either as the pad of his thumb absently dances up and down on the side of my neck.
Grabbing his forearm, I close my eyes and feel his erratic pulse against my back, matching my own like two metronomes falling in sync. “Your heart is beating so fast,” I whisper.
“You make me nervous.” He brushes his lips against my temple and doesn’t give me much time to process the information as he shows me the screen of his phone. He swipes through a multitude of pictures, showing his luxurious apartment that has a view over the city and, behind it, a row of beautiful mountains.
“This place is gorgeous,” I say in awe.
“Yeah, it is, but I feel so detached from it.” He throws his phone aside. “It’s always empty, cold. It came fully furnished, so I didn’t really make an effort to make it into a home, you know. It’s close to the terrain park and the gym, and the resort is close too. But other than that, I don’t particularly love it.”
I nod. It feels like there’s something he wants to add, but he doesn’t voice his thoughts.
“I bet you miss your friends.”
I feel him shrug. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t have any close friends over there. Sure, I miss my teammates, but I don’t have anyone I really talk to. No one like you.” Those last four words make my heartbeat somersault. “No one like Jordan. I loved it when he would fly out to spend a weekend over at my place.”
