“We should get that,” he says, the humor in his voice evident.
I pull out of him regrettably, and dress myself in my briefs.
“One minute!” I call out.
I grab him a towel from the bathroom as he pushes himself to sit up against the headboard. He doesn’t say a word as I clean him up. Nor does he protest when I kiss him. He dresses himself back in his underwear and relaxes against the bed as I head for the door.
He browses through the channels as I grab the pizza, breadsticks, and soda pop. I bring it all over to the bed and pop the boxes open.
“Do you remember Austen’s wedding?” he asks, settling on a channel with a movie that looks familiar, though I can’t place it.
“Remember?” I ask as I grab a slice of pizza. It’s big and thick and cheesy and smells amazing.
“How could I forget? You were only trying to seduce me the whole fucking night.” I laugh.
“Was not,” he says, but he laughs and we both know it’s a lie.
“Yes, that’s why you totally didn’t shove me into the bathroom and demand I suck your dick.”
He rolls his eyes, but the humor fades and I realize as he stares at the screen, that it’s on mute.
I put my pizza down as he turns to me, his arms over his knees.
“The next morning, I went to look for you,” he says quietly.
I look up at him, and his gaze is steady.
“Seriously?”
He nods.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully. “Even then, I knew things with you were different. I knew I wanted it to besomethingbut I was just… scared. I hoped that—I don’t know. We could figure something out.”
I can’t speak. All I can do is listen as he keeps talking, because fuck, I had no idea.
“I knew that no one made me feel the way you did, so I wanted to give this, a real relationship withyou, a shot.”My heart breaks at the same time it flutters. That was eight years ago.
And then reality hits me.
“But I wasn’t there,” I say softly. “I left because I’d gotten the call that I’d made the team.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me.” I pause for a moment before adding, “I ran before you could hurt me.”
His expression falters.
“Because I wanted you to love me then. I wanted to be enough for you, but—”
“I didn’t know how to love you. To love anyone,” he adds. The silence is thick as he looks down at me with watery eyes. “But Iwantedto.”
“What about now?” I ask as I scoot closer to him.
“What about now?” he asks.
I twist my lips, figuring I’ll never know if I don’t ask.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend now?”
