Page 10 of The Linebacker

Patrick: Hey stranger. I miss you.

Tears blurred my sight as my heart ached for him. I loved him so fucking much.

Me: Hey you. I miss you, too.

Patrick: I wasn’t sure you’d text me back. But you didn’t say we couldn’t talk. So I took a chance.

Me: I’m glad you did.

I stared at the screen, waiting for the next set of dots to appear. A few minutes went by, and I was afraid that was it. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him.

Me: Patrick?

Patrick: I’m here, babe. Just don’t know what to say.

My eyes filled with more tears. I could see his handsome face in my mind.

Me: You can say anything to me.

Patrick: Okay.

I waited again for him to respond as the dots rolled, then stopped, only to start again.

Patrick: Good concert tonight.

My eyes narrowed, then widened at the message. How would he know?

Me: What do you mean? Are you asking me, or telling me?

Patrick: I’m telling you.

I jumped up from the bed.

Me: Are you here in Phoenix?

Patrick: Maybe. Would you be mad if I said yes?

My eyes filled again, and I wanted to see him.

Me: No. Why would I be mad?

Patrick: Because you’re already mad at me. And I’m really sorry.

Me: Where are you?

Patrick: In my room. Michael emailed me the itinerary before the Bowl.

Me: What number?

Patrick: 1524

Patrick: You want to come over? We could talk.

Did I want to see him? Of fucking course. I’d missed him. But it would hurt like hell to leave him again.

Me: Yeah, I do.

Patrick: Thank fuck. I’m waiting for you.

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