Page 129 of Caught Stealing

He’s right, I do have an idea. One that hinges on a lot of moving parts, but I also can’t believe that’s something he’d want to talk about right now. Not after all the emotional shit we just dumped at each other’s feet.

“We really don’t have to get into it,” I start, shaking my head. “I know it’s probably not—”

“It’s fine. Seriously.” He straightens in his chair like he’s about to receive a briefing. “Now, tell me how Operation Get The Guy is gonna work.”

Thirty-Five

Holden

May

“Have you seen my keys?” I ask Theo while slipping my shoes on by the front door. He’s standing over in the kitchen making some sort of strange smoothie concoction. The ones with kale and raw eggs in them and shit that never fail to make me gag on the spot. “I could’ve sworn I left them on the table by—”

“Island,” he says, not even looking over his shoulder from where he’s adding ingredients to the blender. And sure enough, they’re sitting there on the kitchen island right behind him.

It’s a strange place for me to leave them, but then again, I’ve been pretty out of sorts for weeks now.

“Thanks,” I mutter, swiping them from the laminate and shoving them in the pocket of my hoodie before crossing back to the door.

My focus shifts to the window, locking on the rain pouring buckets from the sky on the other side of the glass. It’s been like this all day, and it’s befitting of the mood I’ve found myself in lately.

Maybe even more today, seeing as it’s the sixth anniversary since my parents passed.

But it’s knowing today is also one year since Phoenix and I started down this path that makes it feel all the more bittersweet.

I’m no stranger to loss, but this kind…it feels different than it does when I think about my parents. Maybe because I’ve still had to see Phoenix in class while he tries his best to keep his gaze from shifting to me. Hear his name when Theo or someone else mentions him in passing. And all this is happening while fighting the urge to go to him. Touch him, hug him, fucking love him with every inch of my being.

Everywhere I go, everything I do, he’s there. And if he’s not near me physically, then he’s at the forefront of my mind like a beacon in the night. There’s never been a time when another person has haunted my every waking thought, and trying to live without him while still being utterly consumed by him is driving me batshit crazy.

I can’t escape him, and it’s made this whole situation all the more unbearable.

“Holden?”

I glance up. “Yeah?”

His brows draw down, and he frowns. “I asked if you were on your way out for an exam. Did you not hear me?”

No, I hadn’t. Not surprising, since I’ve been dissociating ever since Phoenix’s rejection at his game down in Nashville at the end of March.

Though rejection might not be the right word for it, seeing as I was the one who walked away from him, not the other way around. But it sure feels like rejection, especially since I haven’t heard anything from him in…God, it’s been over a month. The longest one of my life.

Suddenly, one of those little mandarin oranges flies across the room, hitting me square in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell, Theo?” I snap, glaring up at my roommate before picking it up and tossing it back at him. “I know you don’t need the extra practice, so is there another reason you’re chucking fruit at me?”

His brow arches at the snappiness in my tone. “Because you’re so deaf right now, I’m ready to order you a hearing aid. Which begs the question, are your thoughts off on a different planet, or are you ignoring me because I won’t give you any information on a certain teammate of mine?”

I pause, my answer initially being the former. But now that he’s the one to mention it…

“Can it be both?”

A half-hearted smirk forms on his lips as I toss orange back at him. “I guess one probably relates directly to the other, right?”

Understatement of my life.

While I haven’t been hearing a damn thing from Phoenix, Theo sure has.

He let it slip a couple weeks ago that Phoenix has been confiding in him a lot since the St. Seb’s dual in Nashville. And like the addict I am, I’ve been shamelessly begging for whatever scraps of information he’s willing to give me.

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