I take the grapes and hand them back to Luke. “Why don’t you have Sebastian feed them to you?”
Luke grins.
“Enzo doesn’t have the communication skills to tell you that he doesn’t like grapes. He doesn’t explain why he used to like grapes and doesn’t anymore.”
“The grapes almost killed me,” Enzo says. “They should know why I want to avoid them.”
They almost did. That’s not an exaggeration.
I still remember the frightened way he looked at me.
There was no time to call anyone for help.
There was only me.
I got him to breathe again.
I still remember the way he collapsed against my torso, the way his hair scratched against my chin, the way he made a soft exhalation of relief.
It could have been yesterday.
I wish it were, and we had all those good years to relive.
Instead, I’m in the part where we hate each other, and I hate it so much.
“The grapes almost killed you? That’s impossible,” Luke says. “Or are you allergic?”
“He’s not allergic,” I say. “He used to like grapes. The first time I saw him, he was eating grapes.”
“Grapes don’t kill people,” Troy tells Luke. “It must be a metaphor.”
“It’s not important.” Enzo pushes the door open.
“Wait! I’m throwing a party,” Finn says. “My place. You’re welcome to join.”
I tense. I don’t want to party with Enzo.
“I can’t. I’m busy.” Enzo leaves the locker room.
Fuck.
Why is Enzo busy? He’s not the most social guy. I’m not sure he would still be in touch with anyone from Concord.
Or does he have plans with a partner? My stomach clenches. Some guy from LA? Maybe he’s going to go back to him and have wild sex.
I yank my shirt over my head and jam my feet into my shoes. Somewhere in Boston, Enzo is going to meet someone, and my hands won’t stop clenching.
CHAPTER
SIX
Enzo
Around me, fans stream from the arena in Blizzards scarves, everyone high on the win.I join the swarm of foot traffic. The Charles is dark, the rowers and kayakers have long since abandoned it. On the other side is Back Bay, with its glorious, lit-up row of Gilded Age jewels.
We won. We won big.
Neon signs flicker off the wet pavement. A group of drunk students spills out of a sports bar, shouting something about the game.
