ME: Are you intact?
I delete it. Too clinical.
ME: That was terrifying to watch.
Delete. Too vulnerable.
ME: You looked good crashing. Very dramatic.
I hit send before I can overthink it.
The three dots appear almost immediately.
NICO: You’re watching me crash on repeat? That’s kind of twisted.
ME: I watched you ski. The crash was… incidental.
NICO: Incidental. That’s one word for it.
A pause. I can almostseethe pleased smile, the way he knows he has me on the edge and is about to enjoy himself.
NICO: Did you like what you saw? Before the crash, I mean.
Heat floods through me.
ME: You were reckless.
NICO: That’s not an answer.
ME: You were also… impressive.
NICO: Better. Keep going.
ME: I wanted to be there. In the finish. Waiting.
NICO: What would you have done if you were?
My fingers hover. This is the moment I should say something honest. Instead, I choose something that lets me feel instead offeelings.
ME: Checked for bruises.
NICO: Just checked?
ME: Thoroughly.
A longer pause. I picture him lying in his hotel bed, grinning, hard, enjoying how far I am willing to go to avoid answering a simple question.
NICO: I have one. On my ribs. Left side. Want to see?
ME: Yes.
The photo comes through. Shirtless, hotel mirror, one hand lifting the fabric to show the dark bruise blooming across his ribs. Lean muscle, golden skin, the sharp line of his hip disappearing into his waistband.
I want to trace that bruise with my tongue until he forgets it hurts.
ME: That looks painful.
NICO: It is. You should come fix it.
