Page 57 of Crease Collision

“After we met, I was happier than I’d been for a long time even though I was afraid. I’ll probably always be scared, but I…”

His voice breaks, and I rest a hand on his arm. “Say what you need to.”

He looks into my eyes. “I was much happier with you in my life, and I’d… I understand if the answer is no, but would you be interested in seeing each other again? More than hanging out. I’d like to know if we can fix what went wrong. If you still want to.”

It’s hard to breathe. I’d almost convinced myself this would never happen, and now, he is the one proposing it.

“There is nothing I would like better, even winning the Laurentian Cup. We have things to work out, but I am willing to try if you are.”

His lips are shaking again, more than before. “Good. I’ll try hard because I like you, Oskar. Very much.”

“I will give it everything I can. I have one condition, though, and I can’t compromise. It would be bad for both of us if I do.”

“What is it?”

“No running. If we get scared, we get scared. If we want out, we want out. But regardless of what happens, we talk about it. We do not treat each other as expendable.”

He nods. “I might need help not screwing it up.”

“That is why talking will be important. As long as we are in this together, I will help you any way I can.”

“I’ll talk,” he says. “Promise.”

I want to kiss the doubt off him, but I hold back. Something tells me we need to let things happen at their own pace.

“So, do you want to see my new apartment? No funny business. Kors på halsen.”

He tilts his head. “Course po hahlsun?”

I repeat it slowly. “Kors på halsen. It means ‘cross my throat.’”

“Cross your throat? That sounds painful.”

“It isn’t. You would say, ‘cross my heart.’”

He sighs but can’t hide his smile. “If you know ‘cross my heart,’ why didn’t you say it?”

“Because I am Swedish,” I say. “Kors på halsen is prettier, and it makes me happy. You should learn some Swedish.”

“Mm hmm. Perhaps you will be my tutor?”

“Perhaps.”

He lets me take his hand, and we walk on.

After a moment, he says, “Let’s hold off on seeing your place until we get a few things settled. I want to do it soon, though.”

“No worries. May I text you tonight?”

“You’d better. I’ve never dated another goalie before. We’re used to not liking other goalies much, so you and I need to prove we’re trustworthy.”

“I am trustworthy,” I declare.

He narrows his eyes. “So you say. I am trustworthy.”

“So you say.”

“We’ll text tonight then?”