Page 86 of Cross Checking

“Yup, they’re great. I didn’t talk to Nils as much, but Silja’s super fun.”

“Awesome. They’re my best friends here.” Erik pauses, setting the breakfast on the dining table. “They both like to chirp the hell out of me for, uh, certain things, though.”

I’m guessing that means they chirp him aboutme, so I nod instead of replying. Our conversation needs to happen sooner rather than later. We’ve both put it off for far too long, but at least that gave me time to think things through.

But this sure isn’t a pre-coffee conversation, so I shiver and dart over to the coffee maker. I fill it with water and slip a pod in before turning to face Erik, who looks away sheepishly.

“It’s fine, Erik. You’re allowed to stare,” I say. For added effect, I slip the waistband of my pajama pants down a little, making him clear his throat. Laughing, I turn back to the coffee maker and make two cups, bringing them back to the table after they’re done brewing.

Once I settle into a chair, Erik slips a hand over and strokes my thumb, the firm touch grounding and comfortable, and it helps me to prepare for what’s to come.

“There’s something on my mind,” I finally say.

“Yeah, same here.”

There’s a beat of silence, and since I started this, I’ll be the one to continue. “Okay, I’m about to drop some serious shit on you, just giving you a heads up.”

He nods, and I gulp a lungful of air.

“I like you too much to leave you behind. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my mind.” My voice is steady, but cracks form at the edges of every word. Erik sits there, silent, stunned, and staring at me.

My stomach turns.Did I misread him? Did I say too much?

His gaze shifts, soft and conflicted.

“I know that’s inconvenient, Erik, but I said what I said. This isn’t just physical for me.”

“You stole the words out of my mouth, you ass,” Erik says, letting out a dry, almost painful laugh. “I got you back yesterday, and I can’t let you go.”

“This is new to me. It’s freaking me out.”

“Yeah, same here.” He breaks eye contact, and I find myself smiling.

“Okay.” I pause to collect myself. “We can sit here going on and on about how much we like each other, or we can do something about it. What’ll it be?”

“Let’s do something.”

“Sounds good.” I straighten up. “Here’s a suggestion: we get together for real, given that we’re both disastrously head over heels for each other, and we do long distance.”

Erik hesitates, biting his upper lip. “What would that do?” he asks, and I cling to the fact that he didn’t immediately shoot the idea down. “I’m living in Sweden long-term, and you’re Canadian.”

“That’s true, but I have a passport.” My next words, ones that have been in the back of my mind for a while, catch briefly at the tip of my tongue. The hesitation is inconvenient, but I need these few seconds to brace myself. “I’ll move to Sweden.”

Who knew that four words with such a hard implementation would roll off my tongue that easily? For the first time ever, I might do something about someone moving away, rather than staying put.

Erik blinks, not saying a word. I tilt my head, begging him to break the silence, ideally with a “yes, please move,” or something along those lines.

“You would move?” he finally says.

“Hell yeah. I mean, I’ll have to research exactlyhowI’d move here, but I’m sure there’s a way.”

“What about your job?”

My response is immediate. “I think I can work from anywhere as long as I have a visa or something. I was hired in the US and my company lets me work from Canada, so it should be possible for me to transfer my job here.”

Erik clasps his hands together. “But what if we break up?”

I must be making one hell of a pained face because Erik brings his other hand to mine and gives me a tight grip. We haven’t agreed to be together yet, but my stomach is already quaking at the thought of breaking up with him.

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