"Glad to hear it." He slaps me on the back. "We all need to be on our A game. You excited for next week?" he asks, eyes scanning the field. "Road game or not, it’s finally real."
Not sure I'd use the wordexcited. I am eager to kick off the season, but there's a pull in my gut I can't shake, and I suspect it has something to do with traveling and being away from Tex.
Unable to reveal any of that to Kimball, I go with, "Ask me after we haven’t embarrassed ourselves in front of a hostile crowd."
Tex is sad.
He's been sad all morning.
How can I tell?
His ogling-over-coffee wasn't up to his usually high ogling standards, he's been hovering near me as I've been packing, and now he's following me out onto the balcony like a lost puppy. But it's the lack of smiling that's the biggest tell and the thing that concerns me the most. Talk about a punch to the gut.
"Is something wrong, Tex?" I finally ask the question I should have asked two hours ago over coffee.
"No." He shrugs. "Yes?"
"What's up?"
He drops his head. "It's going to sound weird."
"You work with dead people," I say softly. "I already assume it's going to sound weird."
Thankfully, my attempt at humor works, and I'm treated to my first proper smile of the day. He tilts his head up until our eyes align. "Even though you're only going for a few days, I'm really going to miss you."
I don't know if it's his unfiltered honesty or the tender way he speaks, but my heart clenches, and I'm struck by an impossible-to-resist urge to touch him. So I do, cupping his cheek in my palm. "I'm going to miss you, too."
A half smile rises on his lips. "You are?"
"Of course. I really like you, Tex."
"I—I really like you, too, TD. Even though you're a weirdo who pretends not to know what his initials stand for."
I grin, and even though we're just two guys standing on a balcony above a funeral home on an overcast Thursday morning, and this isn't some big, romantic moment, a rush of emotions surges through me. Because for some reason, itfeelslike a big, romantic moment.
"Can we stay in touch?" he asks.
"I'd like that."
"Do you—do you know how to make video calls?"
A chuckle accompanies my grin. "I'll have to Google it, but I'm sure I can figure it out."
My ride pulls up on the street below, and since my ride also happens to be his brother, I remove my hand and create some distance between us.
We walk down together. Tex and Kimball exchange hugs and a few words. I'm stuck offering a wave, which isthe safer option so as to not arouse suspicion, before I climb into Kimball's SUV, and we take off.
My eyes stay glued to the mirror, watching as Tex gets smaller and smaller in the rearview, but bigger and bigger in my heart.
10
Tex
"How are you feeling about the game tomorrow?" I ask TD on our second nightly video call.
"You really want to know?" he asks, smirking and with just the slightest hint of playfulness in his tone.
"Not really," I joke back. "But seeing as I've just told you about my Bluetooth disaster today"—during the Smith family's service, the Bluetooth auto-connected to my phone, so instead of playing the family’s chosen hymn, it started blasting "Sexy and I Know It" from my gym playlist—"I figure your day couldn't have been any worse."
