There was a small bag that had busted open in the tub, and several razors were lying near it.
What…the fuck?
Oh, fuck. No, no, no. Had he hurt himself? He’d told me he didn’t do that anymore, that he hadn’t done it in years, so why did he have a bag full of fucking razors?
With shaking hands, I picked up the razors and put them carefully in the bag, then tried to close it. The zipper was broken, though, so I was gonna have to find somewhere else to put these. Maybe wrap them up and toss them in the trash. I didn’t want Reese to see me do it, was afraid he’d fight me on this, so I took one of the hand towels and wrapped the broken bag in that, then put it in my pocket. I would hide it in my drawer, then throw it away properly in the morning.
I needed to check him, though. To see if he’d hurt himself. I needed to know just how bad things had gotten for him, and then I could…I could help him.
Right?
I couldn’t stop shaking, and I tried taking several deep breaths to calm myself down a little.
It didn’t help much.
When the bathroom was picked up, I shut the door behind me and looked at Reese.
He’d taken his pants off, was just in my hoodie and his boxers now, lying on top of the covers curled up on his side. He had the hood pulled over his head and his hands tucked into the sleeves.
I was terrified to ask him; if he’d hurt himself because of something he thought I’d said to him, I wasn’t sure I would recover from that.
The guilt of it would break me open, and I’d never be able to go back to the way I was.
I walked over to the bed and crouched by his head, brushing my fingers across his cheek. “Reese.”
“Mm.”
“Baby, did you hurt yourself?”
Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “No. Just cut my hair.”
The relief that he hadn’t used one of those razors on himself made me feel boneless, and I tipped my head forward to rest on the mattress, closing my eyes.
Thank fucking god.
“I had a crush on you, you know.”
His whispered words pierced my heart, and he ran his fingers through my hair.
I lifted my head. “What? When? Last fall?”
He shook his head. “Nope. When I was nine. Saw you in a video and fell madly in love with you. I think I’ve loved you forever.”
Fuck me.
He’d watched me play as a kid? The idea that Reese had known about me since he was nine years old was…
That he’d…
That he’d loved me.
Well, the idea of me.
I’ve loved you forever.
Was he saying he loved me right now?
“You’re the reason I’m here,” he said, staring into my eyes. “The reason I started playing. It was all because of you.”
