Page 47 of Shattered Dreams

“Totally good.”

“What’s wrong? Something is wrong. I can tell. You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m fine. Really. Just, uh… you know.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “So you should tell me.”

He sighs, then looks me in the eye. “We’re going to be alone for the first time since last weekend.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Why is that making you nervous?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad nervous. Excited, maybe?”

That comment tells me all I need to know. If he’s excited, then I don’t think he’s changed his mind. But the only way I’ll know, is if I ask.

Paul and I are both good communicators. I think it’s something we learned from playing sports. Though his relationship didn’t work out, it wasn’t over miscommunication or lack of. My marriage was great, and I was always the one to share or get Victoria to share things with me. It’s important. So talking about things for me and Paul should be easy. And it is. I think it’s just a little awkward. But you’ll never know the answer to a question if you don’t ask it.

“Excited because you’ve been thinking about what will happen?”

“Yes,” he says with a firm nod. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

I reach over and take his hand, not really sure what it means, but it feels right. His gaze goes to our hands, and he links our fingers together. Then his gaze comes to me.

“I’ve been thinking about it too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “I’m curious.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

“Me too.”

I pause a moment to start the car, having to let go of his hand, but I take it right back after I’m on the road.

“I’ve never been with a guy before,” I say. “Just so you know.”

“Neither have I.”

“Did you know you were into guys?”

“I think I’m just into you.”

I laugh again. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” I squeeze his hand. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. We just… fit?”

He’s right. We do.

The door closes heavily behind us, and I press my back to it. I watch Paul as he walks further into the house, but slows when he realizes I’m not following. He’s maybe fifteen feet away before he turns to face me.

I push off the door and stop when I’m in front of him. I can see the way his breathing has grown heavy, and I wonder if his heart is pounding as hard as mine is.

“This doesn’t have to be weird,” I say.

“I know.”