His shoulders droop. For some reason, he looks close to tears.
Or is it allergies? I’ll have to ask him about his health later. Perhaps we should stop at a pharmacy on the way home. Yes, that is what we will do.
“Actually, it was a mutual decision.” Mateo raises his chin.
“Ah. You didn’t want people to know you were dating the hot German hockey player.”
Mateo’s eyes narrow. “You used to be straight when I met you.”
“I was always bisexual,” Axel says. “Just obsessed with Enzo. I can notice that Florian is hot. It’s the symmetrical features. And the pink lips. And the blue eyes. And?—”
Mateo takes my hand and squeezes it. “Later, Axel. I hope you’re looking forward to my Swedish massage.”
“Swedish massage?”
“I think extra firm is appropriate,” Mateo says, his chin high.
Axel snorts. “Oh my God. How did I not see it before?”
He’s shaking his head and smiling as Mateo marches us further and further away.
A few more team members say hi to us. They congratulate Mateo and me for our relationship. I guess normally you don’t announce your same-sex relationship to paparazzi before telling your teammates, and news has definitely traveled.
Everyone is happy for us though. I am on the best team in the world. I can’t wait until I remember everything.
The place looks far more familiar than Iexpected, and when Mateo says he’ll show me the massage room, then he’ll meet me for lunch, I actually know which turn to make to get there.
Which is weird.
I should remember Mateo first.
I don’t want to tell him how much I’m remembering in case I hurt his feelings, even though Mateo is so amazing, he would probably just reassure me and say his feelings aren’t hurt at all.
I definitely chose the best boyfriend I could.
I shiver as we get closer to the massage room. Maybe I’m getting the cold that Mateo has. My limbs feel heavier, and Mateo gives me a worried look.
We stop in front of the massage room, and my heart beats faster than it should.
Mateo opens the door, and I step inside.
My eyes dart to the gray stone wall, different from the exposed expensive wood panels that line the other corridors.
The room smells like eucalyptus, and I hate it. My eyes bounce from eucalyptus plant to eucalyptus plant.
“Florian?” Mateo asks. “You look pale.”
In the center of the room is a massage table. This is where Mateo works.
And then my pulse stutters. Something wraps around my chest.
I step back. “No…”
“Florian?” Mateo asks.
His voice sounds very far away. His eyes round more. Everything is wrong and terrible and horrible.
Ach, nein.
