Page 23 of Heart of the Race

Several beats of time went by, of silence.

“I missed you when you left.”

“I missed you too,” I said automatically, since it was the truth and it sounded like he was going to let us get back to normal.

“No, you’re not hearing me. I didn’t miss you like I used to. It was different.”

My knees wobbled, and I had to sit down. It was lucky my front porch steps were there.

“I think about you all the time, Brian,” he murmured, and I could hear the pain in his voice.

I didn’t trust mine to come out as anything but a strangled gasp.

“But then I got scared, because, holy shit, right? I mean, you’re it. You’re my best friend and my conscience, you know all my secrets, and you still love me. What if I fuck it up and then you’re really gone? What am I supposed to do then?”

He sounded so lost. “Please wait at the airport,” I rasped. “I’ll come get you.”

“What?”

“You’re at LAX, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then wait. I’m coming now.”

“No.” He sounded certain, and my heart seized.

“Don’t leave,” I begged. “Don’t race away from me.”

“What’re you⁠—”

“Please.”

“Brian, I have no intention of leaving you.”

He didn’t? “You’re not?”

“No. I don’t think we’re made to be apart.”

Always, my whole life, the man had been able to devastate me with his words.

“Do you love me?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.

“Yes.”

I plunged ahead. “Not like a brother.”

“No, not like that.”

I was back to being able to push air through my lungs.

“Like you want to be with me and sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“Varro,” I whispered, because my voice had bottomed out on me.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I just didn’t know I did.”