“Well, yeah, but also…” I bit my lip.
“Also…” he coaxed, arching an eyebrow.
I breathed out a sigh, debating whether or not to confide in him.
“You can tell me anything. No judgement, remember?”
I tilted my head to the side. “You just…you say how you feel when you feel it,” I explained. “And it helps me get out of my head. Like, instead of me sitting here freaking out and wondering if you enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, you just say it, so I know. It’s nice.”
“I fuckin’ loved it,” he said, making a warm bubble grow in my chest. He made it feel like my overthinking and little quirks weren’t a problem, but something that he actually found endearing. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, too,” he said, dropping another quick kiss on my lips. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re really not judging me, are you?”
“I’m really not,” he said, taking the last sip of his coffee.
“Okay, well…” I trailed off.
“Say it,” he challenged me.
Gathering up my courage, I said, “Let’s keep doing this.”
He laughed and his eyes danced with happiness. “I agree, babe.”
That word, the way he said it, felt like a flash right to my core. It was a certain type of flash I hadn’t felt in years.
“That’s a dangerous look, Al,” he said in a husky voice.
“Is it?” I asked, my eyes locking on his.
His throat bobbed with a swallow. He nodded slowly. “Makes me want to do everything with you,” he said in a low voice, “and I don't know if you actually want everything.”
“I do,” I automatically said. I didn’t even have to think about it.
He looked shell-shocked, like his brain short-circuited for a second with this new information.
I gave him a little pat on the chest and grinned. His eyes darted right to my hand. “Ireallydo…” I said before popping up from the bench and strutting away.
As I walked, I felt him come up behind me and grab me up. I fell against him laughing while he kissed my neck.
11. JP – RESILIENT ROSES
That night, it wasn’t a question of whether or not I was sleeping in Ali’s room. After dancing the night away together, she pulled my hand toward her room, and we crashed in her bed together.
Our limbs tangled together, my knee between her legs, her arm curled around my ribs. I tucked her short hair back and traced the little rose behind her ear.
“I love this,” I told her, smoothing my thumb over the tiny tattoo. It reminded me of simpler times back at Herb’s.
She smiled and snuggled further into me. But as I stared at her rose, a weird tension started forming in my chest. Because I really did love this. Holding her, kissing her, spending the day with her. I loved it more than hockey, more than anything else in this world. And now that I remembered what it felt like to be fully connected to another person, I didn’t want to miss it.
As I fell asleep, I drifted back to a time when I missed her with such fierceness that it physically hurt…
_________
2011
Each day Ali wasn’t at the rink, tension squeezed harder in my chest. I struggled to make myself eat and sleep because I was sick with worry. It’d been sixteen days since she busted her arm, which marked the longest period she’d ever been away from the rink—also the longest period she’d been away from me. Ali unfortunately had sustained dozens of skating injuries in the past, but she usually turned up by now. She’d usually be in the weight room, doing modified workouts with the rink physical therapist, or in the stands, waiting for her parents to finish up coaching. So sixteen days felt…off.
I continually tried to catch Anastasia in the hallway to ask about Ali, but I always missed her.
