“I’m fine.” CJ sat on the edge of the coffee table across from him.
“Were you with him?”
CJ’s brows knit together. “I was with a bunch of guys from the team.”
“Were you with Rizzo?”
“He was there.”
Evan took another sip of water. “You’re different with him. You laugh more.” He looked at his hands. “Are…? Are you guys dating?”
“Me and Rizzo?” CJ asked with a laugh. “Evan, no.”
“I thought it would help if you guys were dating,” Evan said, continuing as if CJ hadn’t answered him. “I thought if you were with him, maybe I could finally stop.”
“Stop what?”
Evan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
CJ’s voice was soft. “Say it.”
“I thought I could finally stop loving you.”
Evan rubbed a hand across his chest as CJ inhaled sharply. Evan let his head fall back against the couch and continued, the confession gathering momentum now that he’d started.
“It’s been seven years,” he said hoarsely. “Seven years of pretending you didn’t wreck me. Seven years of trying to build something out of what you left behind.”
CJ flinched.
“I turned all of it into discipline and control.” Evan shifted until he was sitting straighter. “I built this whole life out of it. I made myself into something solid and unshakable because I was going to fall apart if I didn’t.”
“Evan—”
“And it doesn’t matter,” Evan said, loudly enough to drown out CJ. “You show up again, and none of it matters. All of the control, all of the work. Fuck all of it, I guess. Because you walked back into my life and now every fucking day hurts more than the one before.”
He looked at CJ. “I hate that you make me feel like this. I hate that you left. I hate that I still—” His voice broke completely when CJ moved to sit beside him on the couch.
CJ kept a space between them, just far enough away that they couldn’t touch. Evan stared at the gap and hated how much he wanted it gone.
“I wasn’t with Rizzo,” CJ said softly. “Not like that.”
Evan squeezed his eyes shut. Relief and humiliation collided in his stomach. “I know,” he muttered. “I know. I’m just?—”
“Drunk.”
“Yeah.”
CJ raised a brow. “You’re going to regret saying all this.”
Evan nodded in agreement. “Probably.”
The silence stretched awkwardly between them, but neither of them moved. CJ sat with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them as he stared at the floor, but the distance between them stayed exactly the same.
Evan’s jaw tightened. He stared at the strip of empty cushion between them a second longer, then dragged a hand down his face and shifted. The couch dipped as he slid closer, shrinking the distance between them until his knee brushed CJ’s.
Beside him, CJ froze, but Evan didn’t stop. His hand rose and his fingers brushed CJ’s cheek, then his jaw, and Evan didn’t dare breathe or the moment would shatter.
“Evan,” CJ said, but Evan ignored the warning in his tone.
