It’s a step towards the life I want. The life I want with… him.
I told him I loved him. I hadn’t meant to, it just sort of fell out of my stupid mouth, but it wasn’t untrue. And then he shocked the hell out of me and said itback.
He said it back. Maybe it’s not such a risk after all.
Maybe when I tell him the truth, he’ll be excited. Because this building can be something we can build together. He’s the only other person in the world who believes in this dream, after all.
My phone goes off in my pocket, pulling my attention. I grab it, expecting Cam, but that’s not the text I see. It's from Alex.
Did you get abducted by aliens or something?
My heart stops, my blood chilling.
I knew this would happen eventually. I’ve been gone almost two weeks, which means I’ve missed not one, but two Brewer Family Golf Outings. That itself is suspicious.
No.
Slowly, I start to walk along the street, watching as my brother responds.
Then where are you, man?
The fact he doesn’t know means Savannah hasn’t said anything to my family, and I’m not sure if I should be happy about that or pissed.
The fact she hasn’t said anything also tells me she doesn’t give a shit. But she accused me of coming here for Cam—and while she may be right—I guess she wouldn’t want to give anyone any ideas. Or maybe she’s just so embarrassed of me and what our life has become that she doesn’t want anyone to think we could possibly be having problems.
New York.
Part of me worries that telling him isn’t a good idea. My brother is a gossip hound. Sometimes I think he’s worse than Savannah in the drama department.
We’ve never been all that close, mostly because he’s an annoying asshole who loves to be in the spotlight every chance he gets, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re a professional hockey player.
Still, if he’s texting me, he must be worried, which that itself is concerning. And I guess we are a little closer now that we’re older, and since he came home to recover from his injury.
This is all just another reminder that soon enough, I’ll have to return home.
Home.
I’m still not sure where that truly is, but the key in my pocket tells me I’m getting warmer.
Wtf are you doing in NY?
There’s a strange desire in me to tell him the truth.
To tellsomeone.
I haven’t told Cam, and I’m still not surehowto tell him. It’s not thewhatI’m worried about. It’s thewhy.
Cam doesn’t like grand gestures, and this is sort of a grand gesture, even though it’s notentirelyfor him. He’s a big part of it.
Because I want him to be a part of my future.
I don’t know how any of it will work, but…
Isn’t that the crux of a risk, anyway? You do it even if there’s a chance it’ll crash and burn, because there’s the chance that it won’t?
There’s the chance that it'll blossom and become something so much better—something worth it.
I tap out my response.
