Oh.“Then…what is it?”
Dean pauses, a cheeky grin spreading across his pretty lips. “I…”
Come on, man. Out with it.
“...got into Washtenaw.”
My heart stops, and I grin.
And for some reason, my stomach twists.
“Are you thinking about accepting?”
Dean tilts his head, thinking, or at least pretending to. “Hmm, I don’t know. There might not be enough to keep me here.” Hepauses before breaking into a grin. “Of course I’m gonna accept. I wanna stay with you so damn bad.”
Hold up—that can’t be theonlyreason he’s accepting. He has a dream job back in China, albeit with a shitty salary lag. Right now, all I can think about is how fuckingcarefreehe was back in Hangzhou, and how miserable he was on the flight back.
Him pretending that he lost his passport when we were about to leave for the airport, and his not-so-fake reluctance when he brought it out at customs.
The strained little quip he made about leaving his happy place when we were about to take off.
He’s wanted to go home for years. As much as I like him, keeping him here for my sake is fucking selfish, and I’m a damn idiot for not realizing it sooner.
“This is your choice, so be sure you aren’t making it for my benefit,” I force out.
Dean’s handsome, tired face screws up into a questioning look. “I’mnot, but what if I was?” His tone sours. “It’d be my choice, and—” He sucks in a breath and forces it out. “I like you a lot, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t throw it back in my face.”
“I’m scared you’re giving up on something you’ve always wanted just to be with me.”
He blinks a couple of times, and when he doesn’t cuss me out and hang up, I hold my breath. “Look, Nick. I’m gonna accept my offer, and it’s up to you whether you’re happy for me, or if you’re gonna convince yourself that it’s the wrong decision.” He glowers into the camera. “Just let me know what you decide in case I need to look for another apartment by myself.”
Fuck.
The thought of losing him drives a knife into my chest, and the very real prospect twists it.
“I don’t want to break up,” I say quickly.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t either.” He sighs, offering me a grimace. “Do you think time to…process this would help?”
“Yeah. Shit, I’m a mess. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His tone is unconvincing. “I just hope you can see things from my perspective, too. Especially yourself, since I really like you.”
Groaning, I stay determined to keep Dean on the line, because this is a shitty place to end the train wreck of a call I started. “I know I should be excited, and Iam, but my stupid fucking brain is going haywire.” My voice cracks. “I don’t know why I can’t appreciate you the way I should, and I’m s?—”
“Don’t fucking apologizeagain. Jesus Christ,” he says, bringing the camera closer to his face. “You’re overwhelmed, and I can’t fault you.”
How this guy hasn’t gone running for the hills like everyone else is beyond me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Maybe missing you is messing with my head.”
That gets him to smile, even if it’s small. “You aren’t alone in feeling that way. But hey—I’m looking forward to when we don’t have to miss each other like this.”
“Yeah. Same here.” I yawn, and Dean follows a second later.
“Okay, I think this is a sign for us to go to bed now,” he says with a quiet chuckle. “Goodnight.”
We sign off, and I spend too much time staring at the “Call Ended” message on the screen.
