Because I’m staring at his face, I notice the first signs of Harry’s lips turning up. Nothing spurs me on like a cute guy smiling.
“Let’s see, Doug was my boyfriend in college. We haven’t talked in years, but I think I could message him online. And I hooked up with some stranger about five years ago during Pride in Ogunquit. Rick. Richard. Dick? Well, yeah, there was definitely dick. But I can’t be sure of his name. I could hire a skywriter and try to track him down.”
Harry’s full-on laughing now. His lunch rests besidemine, and his beautiful blonde curls bounce as his body shakes with laughter.
“Okay, okay, enough,” he manages through chuckling, his laugh warm and easy.
It makes me want to gather him up next to me on a blanket under the stars.
“Anyway, I’m sorry.” My heart races, but I puff my chest out, determined to keep eye contact. “For being a dick. For so long.”
Harry stares at me for a moment. His eyes scan my face, searching.
“I’m partial to long dicks,” he says.
“Good one,” I say.
The desire to spend more time with Harry consumes me like a relentless player chasing the winning shot at the buzzer.
“You didn’t get to experience the ice in Warwick. Let me take you.”
His face drops, and he picks up his sandwich. “Darius, I don’t do sports. You know this.”
“Skating isn’t sports. We’re not playing hockey or doing double axels. Just skating. It’s barely cardio.” I widen my eyes and give him my best pleading face. “Come on, Peterson. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You’ll want to be comfortable on the ice before we head to Hartford next week.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“Who said anything about me going to the finals?”
“Coach Applegate has a litter of puppies to look after. And the team loves you. Come on, Harry.”
He swipes the sticky notes and pen from the table, jots something, and slides it over.
“My address. Tomorrow night. Pick me up at six.”
A victorious grin plasters across my face.
“But if I fall, I’m blaming you.”
I chuckle. “Deal.”
I carefully tuck Harry’s address into my pocket. As he picks up his sandwich again, I catch the slightest hint of another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He’s probably not looking forward to it, but deep down, I know he’s going to have a blast.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six, Peterson,” I repeat with a wink.
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. It’s happening. We’re going on a skating date.
8
DARIUS
It takesextra energy to focus on the tasks at hand all day. When Rebecca uses three hula hoops to be funny, I don’t even notice until the entire class bursts into laughter. I’m so fucking excited about seeing Harry and taking him on an actual date. I’ve been waiting years for this moment, and I don’t want to screw it up.
