Page 40 of Spite Crush

“Yeah,” I teased. “Not a lot of old people are.”

“Fuck you.” He chuckled. “So how was your show, really?

“The show was fine,” I said. “Really. I’m just glad it’s over. What have you been up to?”

“Practice.” He let out a sigh. “Sutherland is so freaked out about us reaching the playoffs that he’s terrified we’re going to fuck it up right out of the gate. So he’s got usrunning drills, reviewing tapes and encouraging us to meditate and shit. It’s fucking annoying.”

“Sounds like he should try meditation.”

“Well, it’s that or we’re going to have to sedate him until Tuesday.”

Silence stretched for a minute and I ached to admit how much I missed him. But that wasn’t helpful for either of us. He was about to start a playoff run and I had to go back to Los Angeles.

“Should I let you go?”

“No!” I answered, a little too loudly and definitely too quickly. “I mean, if you need to go, that’s fine.”

“I don’t have anything else I’d rather be doing,” he said.

“Really?”

“Really,” he said and I could hear the smile in his tone. “Can I tell you that I miss you?”

“I miss you, too.” I covered the receiver as I let out a sigh of relief. “Look, I know we haven’t had time to really talk about stuff, but I want you to know that you’re very important to me.”

God. Really? Could I sound any more stupid?

“Yeah?”

“I could have worded it better,” I admitted. “But, yes.”

“You’re important to me, too, Kellen. I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I don’t know how they usually start, or how you even discuss with someone if you’re in one.”

“Do you want a relationship?” My heart started hammering in my chest and I hoped like heck that my voicewasn’t shaking as I asked the question.

“I think I do,” he said.

“You think?” I huffed out a breath. “Listen. I have an anxiety disorder, as you well know. I’m going to need you to be very, very clear with me when we have serious conversations. Words like I think, maybe, probably…you need to drop those from your vocabulary when you speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “It’s not fair to be ambiguous. But somehow I feel like asking you to be myboyfriend is the most high school bullshit phrasing that could possibly come out of my mouth. So why you don’t help me out and tell me what the fuck you want.”

“I want you,” I said. “I want only you for as long as we’re both happy with the arrangement.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Well, I feel the same way.” He chuckled softly. “That was both easier and more difficult than I thought it was going to be.”

“I think you’ll find that that’s pretty common when it comes to dealing with me.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” My brow furrowed as I wondered what I could have said to upset him.

“Act like you’re some kind of burden people have to deal with?”

“Well I kind of am,” I admitted. “I mean, the first time we actually met you had to calm me down from a panic attack.”

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