“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” He skates toward the bench. “We said everything we needed to say. Or rather, I said everything. You didn’t say shit. So just piss off. I’m not doing this with you, Zane. Not here.”
“Then where? Because you won’t answer your phone, and you sure as hell aren’t gonna talk to me at practice tomorrow.”
“That’s right.” He reaches the bench and drops down hard, tugging at his skate laces. “I’m done with this.”
“You can’t just shut me out.”
“Watch me.”
“Tate, listen to me?—”
“No.” He looks up from his skates, ire flashing in his eyes. “You listen to me. I’m not your backup plan. I’m not some kid you can jerk around when you’re bored with your boyfriend.”
“I promise he’s not my boyfriend.”
“I don’t give a fuck what he is. The point is, you’ve got him and you want me too, and I’m not playing that game.”
“It’s not a game.”
“It sure as hell looks that way.” He stands up, one skate off, the other still laced. “You show up in my life, mess with my head,make me want things I can’t have, then disappear when it gets complicated.”
“I’m not disappearing. I’m right here.”
“For how long? Until your dinner date calls? Until you get bored? Until you decide I’m not worth the trouble?”
The bitterness in his voice slices into me. Because he’s not wrong. I am going to disappear, eventually. When Morrison decides I’m too compromised, when the operation ends, when staying becomes too dangerous for both of us.
But not yet. Not tonight.
“You want to know the truth?” I ask, stepping closer.
“No. I want you to leave me alone.”
I ignore him and move closer. “The truth is that guy you saw me with is the reason I can’t sleep at night. He’s the reason I check over my shoulder everywhere I go. He’s the reason I can’t tell you what you want to know.”
Tate stops working on his skate and narrows his eyes at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“My life is complicated in ways you can’t imagine. And getting involved with me puts you at risk.”
“Risk of what?”
Tate holds up a hand when I don’t answer right away. “You know what? Forget it. Your silence speaks volumes.”
He stands up and starts walking toward the tunnel, carrying his skates by the laces. Moving away from me like I’m something toxic.
But I can’t let him walk away. Not like this.
“You’re right,” I call out.
He stops but doesn’t turn around. “About what?”
“About me being a coward. About me jerking you around. About me not giving you what you deserve.”
“And?”
