“I’ll grab the food and meet you at your place?”
I had really hoped he’d let this go, but I’m not that lucky.
“Um, sure. Yeah.”
He grabs his bag off the pile and heads toward the parking lot, not even waiting for me to follow.
Over the past week, Alexei hasn't exactly abandoned me – certainly not like Jamie has. But even though he sits near me on the plane, it isn't the same. I suppose that's at least somewhat my fault – after all, I haven't exactly been a good friend to him this year, either. I let myself get caught up, first in my anxiety over Jamie joining the team, then in the joy I found being around him. Now he's gone – worse yet, notreallygone – and I realize I've neglected Alexei's friendship in the meantime.
As I pull into the garage, I make a promise to myself that I will do better. I will have this serious talk Alexei seems to want, and I will prioritize our friendship.
I barely have time to sort out the clothes in my bag before I hear the buzz at the door. Alexei stands there, arms full of bags, the smells of lamb and dill strong. It seems that he's gone to the Greek place after all. I open the door wide, leading him through to the kitchen. We open up the food, dishing it out onto our plates.
As we sit at the barstools, I hope that he'll hold off on whatever he wants to say until we finish dinner. As with most things these days, luck doesn't seem to be on my side.
“So how did you fuck this up, Ethan?”
I grimace at the words, at the truth held within them – I've fucked this up. Iama fuck up.
I think of what to say to Alexei, how to explain this whole thing to him. A few times, I draw in a breath as if to start, but I never seem to find the words.
“Do you...not know?” His tone is softer now, almost concerned.
I shake my head, then nod it, not sure which answer is the right one.
“I know.”
I take several more deep breaths, then start at the beginning.
“It was never supposed to be...something. When I first suggested we get together, it was just...convenient, you know? A way for us both to stay out of the press.”
“And he was okay with that?”
I snort, thinking back to the look on his face at the club after I propositioned him.
“No, he most certainly wasnotokay with that.”
“So what happened?”
I take my plate to the sink, rinsing it and putting it into the dishwasher. I stay there, faced away from Alexei.
“I...liked him. Just as a player, then as a friend. And then...as more.”
He brings his plate over, repeating my motions.
“You are allowed to like him, Ethan.”
My chest aches at his words.
“Am I? I'm not sure that's true, Alexei.”
At least he doesn't disagree, at least not out loud.
“So he wanted you to come out?”
It's a reasonable thought. Hell, it's what I expected, too. Jamie had sacrificed so much to be out, it would make sense for him to want to be able to live out loud.
Instead, he'd been nothing but understanding. Hell, in that last fight, he'd even stopped me from doing something stupid, from coming out without preparation.
