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Cullen burst into a laugh. “Shit, I think you should just give it to me, considering all the bullshit I’ve put up with from you over the past couple of months.”
“Bullshit you’ve put up with? You mean the excellent companionship, phenomenal sex, endless back massages.” I scoffed.
“Back massages? When the fuck did that happen?”
“Guess you were asleep. Sorry you missed it,” I teased.
“Uh-huh.” Cullen dipped his head, running his nose along my jaw. “You’re spot-on about the sex, though.” Before his lips got to mine, he leaned back with a shake of his head, sobering. “I considered asking you about your apartment. I like it there, but it would be weird to live there without you, Houston. Weird to live in my ‘ex-boyfriend’s old place.’ Which—” He exhaled a long breath. “—I guess we should talk about. My spot with the Rush is secure. You’ve got your dream job with the Royals. It’s exactly what we wanted, exactly according to plan.” He wrinkled his nose—an expression I’d never seen him make before, and unexpectedly endearing. “Feels a little weird, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, finishing off my coffee and sliding from the counter to put the mug in the sink.
“Who’s gonna make the announcement? Why did we break up? Besides me being way too good for you.” He winked.
I couldn’t even argue with him; I was too lost to the heaviness that settled in my chest when I thought about how different everything was going to be going forward without him. I tried to shove the weight of it all away and said, “I think maybe keeping it simple is best, right? You’ll be in front of the press more probably over the next few weeks, so you can make the announcement when the opportunity presents itself. Someone’s gonna ask you about us—you can just mention it then casually. It didn’t work out, distance, blah blah blah.”
Cullen eyed me a beat longer, then nodded. “That makes the most sense, yeah. Keep it simple. Too bad, though. I was hoping we could go down in flames or something. A big, messy breakup. Angry arguments splashed across the pages, your finger in my face. Or, like…me in an airport striding stoically away while you cling to my legs, begging me not to go.”
“What is it with you and aviation-related things?” God, I loved how he could get me to laugh even in moments I didn’t want to. “Literally clinging to your legs in an airport? Like a child? That would be painfully cringe.”
“Totally, and you should make sure you’ve got your bad leg dragging behind you. Really play that up. It’ll build sympathy.” Cullen framed his hands in front of his face. “Heartbroken Houston Clings to Callous Cullen During Messy Airport Breakup.”
I burst into laughter. “You’ve even given us nicknames, Christ.”
“I’ve gotten pretty good at envisioning headlines.” Cullen grinned. “Okay, maybe that’s a little over-the-top. Your plan is solid. We’ll do that. Glad it’s settled.” He smacked the counter lightly, but it rang through the air like a gavel.
I nodded my agreement, and then silence fell—an awkward, uncomfortable one for the first time in months—and lingered until Cullen reached out and caught me by the bicep, pulling me between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders at the same time I wrapped mine around his waist, and for a long moment, it was just the weight and warmth of him surrounding me, the smell of his skin and the tickle of his hair against my cheek as our breaths aligned and fell in unison. The quiet comfort of him permeated my skin with warmth and memories, humming through my blood until it thrummed through my chest with a heavy ache at the same moment Cullen shoved me gently away. “I guess I need to get to the airport.”
The rest of my family had stayed at a hotel and would be meeting Cullen at the gate. I parked in the garage instead of dropping him off. It seemed like the right thing to do. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to squeeze out every last second remaining as his “boyfriend.”
We walked slowly toward the entrance, Cullen signing autographs and taking a selfie with a couple of fans who’d spotted him. Once inside, we lingered near the ticket counters, and Cullen set down his carry-on, then shoved his hands in his pockets before turning to face me. The people sneaking photos and videos of us in my periphery made me all the more self-conscious. There was a quip on my tongue I was ready to let fly to try and lighten the situation. It wasn’t like we were never gonna see each other again. It’d just be…different. But I hoped no matter what, this time, we’d remain friends.
Cullen’s somber expression dried my half-hearted joke up. “Thank you for everything. The ridiculous boyfriend thing. The place to stay, the friendship, the confidence you have in me. The sex. Jesus, the sex. All these things I’m usually too bullheaded and arrogant and scared, I guess, to say. Thank you.”
