Though neither of us has discussedour feelings about where this is headed, it’s clear by the way we act—the waywe kiss each other goodbye, the way we shamelessly cling to each other atnight—that we both want this to be something more than hooking up. And thatwe’re scared as fuck about making a commitment we can’t keep.
It’s the weekend following ourPhoenix excursion, and being away from the NFL has given me a chance toactually spend some time with Bryce. It’s been as wonderful as I could haveimagined. I care about him, and I can tell he cares about me. But if we’regoing to have any chance at making this relationship work, we have to have alittle faith that this thing between us has a chance of working out.
“If you fall, I’ll help you backup,” I say.
“And will you pay for my medicalbills when I break my knees?”
“Wouldn’t this count as worker’scomp? I mean, technically you are on the job right now.”
He beams and releases the wall. “Happy?”
“Not yet,” I say as I skatebackwards. “Come on.”
He moves toward me. In a trenchcoat and red cotton gloves that match his scarf, his cheeks are so red he lookslike he’s blushing.
“Just trust yourself a littlefucking bit, okay?” I say.
“So much easier said than done.” Heeases into it and picks up speed.
“There we go. That’s right.” Heshakes his head, clearly not appreciating my condescending encouragement.
Once he’s in his groove, I sidleup beside him and encircle the skating rink with him.
In their sweaters, toboggans, andscarves, the crowd at the Central Park skating rink is filled with smiles and afew nervous expressions from those who are about as confident as Bryce aboutskating.
The cool air pricks at my cheeksas I move forward. I wonder if my cheeks are as red as Bryce’s.
In the bright lights of that beamacross the ice, illuminating the early evening, I’m glad that we came out forthe final skate of the season, because I felt like I needed to take someleisure time. Now that the NFL season is over and we’re not go-go-go withinterviews and PR shit, we can actually have some time together, and in manyways, I consider this to be our first real date.
I’m tempted to interlock fingerswith him, but considering how unsteady he is, I’m certain he would just drag usboth to the ground.
“So anything in particular youwant to do for Valentine’s Day, Mr. O’Riley?” I tease, mocking the bogus namethat we’ve been using since he started this undercover operation.
“Not particularly. Survive it, Iguess.”
“Oh, come on. There must besomething.”
“Oh, you mean for the paps tosee?” he asks. I can tell by his expression that he’s just being playful. As Ilook into his sparkling brown eyes, I can’t help but enjoy his playfulexpression when—
“’Scuse me.”
I turn just in time to see a manin an orange insulated vest barreling toward us. I move out of his way, and ashe passes, I tumble backward. Bryce skates forward, squats, and catches mebefore I hit the ground. Judging by the look in his eyes, even he is surprisedthat he’s still standing. Obviously, whatever survival impulse kicked in kepthis mind off his worries about skating and just on keeping me from falling.It’s a reminder that I really am safe around him. He gazes down at me, his eyesfilled with worry. There’s something nice about being bathed in his concern. Ilike having someone like him watching over me. I trust him. He’s the only one I’dever trust with my life like this.
We chuckle together, both of usamused about the precarious position we’ve found ourselves in. He leans in tokiss me, and I’m eager to receive it. I could do this for the rest of my life. Ashis lips touch mine, I forget about everything against us. Even that this is alltemporary. I just appreciate this moment, one I feel I deserve to appreciate.
“Smile, Tad Roarke,” I hear besideus and turn in time to be blinded by a flash bright as lightning that sends me jumpingback.
“Shit,” I say as I drag Bryce downwith me. He lands on top.
Fuck. For once, I wish he wasn’tcrushing me beneath his weight.
The pap skates beside us and snapsa few more pictures.
“Fucking douchebag,” I mutter asBryce rolls off me.
Reality just had to intervene andruin a perfectly magical moment that I should have been able to enjoy alonewith Bryce. Of course the world had to remind me that I don’t get to havemoments like those. I’m just a caged animal here for everyone’s entertainment. Itreminds me of Darren. Reminds me of losing my best friend. In many ways, thatexperience has taken me back to feeling like I did when I found out what JordanSpears was up to behind my back, and though I know that’s an extreme way oflooking at it, it leaves me feeling like I was a moron for letting Darren asclose as I did. Even to him, my private life was nothing more than a way tomake some fast cash.
Bryce struggles to his feet. Ican’t help but feel that I’m responsible—the asshole who’s dragging him alongon such a shitty ride.
