When he reaches the second progression, he stops. “That line,” he says quietly. “About midnight doors.”
“Yeah.”
His gaze meets mine. “You waited.”
I shrug, but it’s not casual. “For a while.”
“For how long?”
“Longer than I should have.”
He looks wrecked.
“I used to sit on the floor,” he admits. “After games. With my phone. Thinking about calling you.”
I still. “And why didn’t you?”
“Because I thought if I heard your voice, I wouldn’t be able to do what I’d convinced myself I had to do.”
The honesty in that moment is almost unbearable.
“Idiot,” I say, but it’s soft.
“Yeah.”
We sit in that truth for a long time. Eventually, I start playing again. He joins in.
We talk between songs.
He tells me about his teammates learning he’s gay and the calls he’s had this week. About the relief. About the unexpected normalcy. About Cassius bringing takeout and refusing to leave.
I tell him about the first time I went to AA after rehab. About how I sat in the parking lot for forty minutes before going inside. About the way Miles didn’t speak, just sat with me.
We talk about small things too.
The worst hotel rooms. The best cities. The time Eli nearly got arrested in Barcelona. The time Ollie accidentally dyed his entire load of laundry pink on a road trip.
He laughs, a sound that wraps around me and that I savor. Was it really just a few months ago that I never thought I’d get the chance to hear that sound again?
At one point, he shifts closer without noticing. Our knees touch. Neither of us moves away.
There’s no urgency now. No pressure. Just presence.
At some point, Miles reappears, leaning against the doorway with a soft, almost surprised smile. “You two sound good.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I say.
“Too late,” Miles replies.
Ollie glances between us, mouth curving. “You know,” he says mildly, “if you behave, I might teach you a few tricks.”
Miles pauses. “That sounds threatening.”
“It is,” Ollie says, deadpan.
I snort. “He has none. Don’t fall for it.”
Ollie’s eyes flick to mine, warm and wicked in a way that lands somewhere low in my gut. “I didn’t say what kind of tricks.”
