“Probably,” Harris agreed.
“I know I can’t fix everything, but I just want to help. A little. If I can.”
Troy slumped back against the wall, looking so defeated Harris wanted to hug him. So he did. Troy returned it immediately, pulling Harris close.
“I keep dumping all of my shit on you,” Troy said into his shoulder, his arms tight around Harris’s back. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I want to help. We’re friends, right?”
Troy took a slow breath that tickled Harris’s neck. Then another, as if he was inhaling Harris’s scent.
“Apples?” Harris teased gently.
“Mm.”
Troy stayed there for a minute, then pulled back. Their mouths were inches apart. It would be wrong to kiss Troy here, especially now that he was so vulnerable.
“I should get back,” Troy said, stepping back.
“Right. Okay.” Harris regained his senses. “But we should talk more about this when you have time.”
“All right. If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I might stay off Instagram for a while.”
“Makes sense.”
Troy nodded, then took a step toward the gym.
“What are you doing Friday night?” Harris blurted out.
Troy turned back. “I don’t know. Nothing. Why?”
“Fabian Salah is playing a show in town that night.”
Troy’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
“The musician. We were listening to him in my truck once. He’s dating Ryan Price.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I have two tickets. I bought two because I knew it would sell out and I wanted to make sure I could bring someone, and it just occurred to me that you might like to go. Maybe.” Harris was lying. He’d bought the second ticket with Troy in mind. “Anyway, you should come. If you want. With me.”
“It’s this Friday?”
“Yep. The first night of your week off.”
Troy seemed to think about it. “Sure. Okay.”
Harris lit up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It will be, um, nice. Hanging out with you, away from here. I’ve kind of been...wanting to.” Troy’s shy smile was devastating.
“Me too,” Harris said.
Troy looked at him seriously. “I honestly don’t know how I would have dealt with anything this season without you.”