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“Jordan?” I asked, curiosity winning the battle. “I can imagine him telling you to be responsible or something like that.”
Asher snorted. “Jordan…” Silence fell again. The fire crackled on and we snacked. Then, with a wide yawn, Asher got up. “I could use a few more hours of sleep.”
“Thanks for sitting with me,” I said.
Asher gave me a little smile. It was enough to make his dimples appear. He hesitated a moment, then walked away.
In the silence, I yawned and decided to give sleep another chance, too. I returned to our room quietly, laid down, pulled the covers up to my chin, and looked at the ceiling. The night was already winking out with the early rays of sunshine lighting up the sky, but I figured I could afford a late start tomorrow.
At the far end of the room, Sebastian was completely quiet until his voice danced through the night. “Ty? Are you freaking out?”
I was afraid of something so abruptly that I couldn’t inhale in that instant. I forced a short laugh. “Freaking out? Nah.”
He said nothing. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t want to push me either. I could almost swap our places and think about it from his perspective. It was just that doing that broke my heart. It was as close to a betrayal as it could get without fully qualifying. I was supposed to lift him up and carry him through this. Instead, I had only added oil to the wildfire of his heartbreak. I had made him worry about our friendship.
“It’s just…” He paused, but I waited. “I don’t want you worrying. We’ve made worse mistakes than that.”
Why did it feel so wrong to hear him call it a mistake? I had had the clearest idea of what I had wanted to do in the heartbeat that preceded it. My doubts flooded me only after I had leaned in.
“Remember when we had that big fight?” he asked in a sleep-softened voice. “I wanted to run away from my home and you told your dad,” Sebastian spoke almost fondly of the fight that had separated us for over a week. He had come as close to hating me as he could. “I was in so much trouble, Ty.”
“Better than being kidnapped and killed.” It was an echo of the thoughts I’d had then. We had been seven or eight. He’d gotten into some fight with his parents and plotted an escape plan. I had never seen him so committed to anything before. It had scared me to see how serious he was.
“You probably saved my life,” he admitted.
I snorted a little as if I hadn’t done anything nearly as important. But Sebastian had always been stubborn. He would have gotten scared shitless on the way, but he wouldn’t have backed down. And I would have had to follow him. Or stay behind forever.
It was my fear of losing him that had made me speak up. I had always wanted him near me.
Was that why I didn’t feel the loss of his relationship as strongly? Was I somehow glad that he didn’t have anyone else? I couldn’t believe that. Not truly. The reality was a little more complicated. I wanted him to be happy as much as I wanted to be the person making him happy. And I never believed Jennifer could do the job half as well as I could.
No. It wasn’t a mistake that I had leaned in and pressed my lips against his. It was just very poorly planned. It was selfish in its timing, but it was far from the first time I felt that pull.
To think of it, Sebastian’s magnetism had been drawing me in since we were kids. I had always wanted to be the first person he shared things with. I wanted to celebrate with him and to mourn with him. And I wanted to be wherever he was.
My heart was about to burst out of my chest as all the pieces slowly fell into their right place.
I closed my eyes. Sebastian didn’t speak anymore. His breathing slowly changed and I figured he dozed off again. Sleep was tugging me down to its comforting depths, too, and I surrendered to it.
As I drifted away, words echoed through my mind. Not yet. Not now. But soon.
One thing was certain in all the mess that surrounded us. I wasn’t going to give him up.
SEVEN
Sebastian
I couldn’t help myself the following Monday. Some deeply rooted curiosity got the better of me. Or, perhaps, nothing had changed at all and I just simply noticed it more. But as Tyler and I skated across the ice, drilling defense tactics that Coach Murray had suggested, I couldn’t shake off these feelings.
Yesterday, I’d had an excuse to stay in bed. I had been hungover to the point of wanting to die. The confusion of what had happened the night before wasn’t helping it, either. Today, I had excuses again, attending classes and slipping into the library afterward to search for some obscure textbook that wasn’t even there. It had been a good way to steal some alone time and think. Except, no amount of thinking had gotten me any closer to an answer.
In the locker room, we’d changed quickly and methodically, like always, but I had to restrain my new curiosity from dragging my eyes to Tyler.
Everything seemed to be going well until we pulled off a particularly tricky bait-and-switch and Tyler circled around to crash into me. His hug was warm and tight and full of unspoken promises. It was as friendly as ever, but something had changed that night and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
For the rest of our drills, and especially when Tyler and I were seated to give the rink over to others, there were no attempts to discuss anything. To an outsider, this all looked like our normal behavior. And yet, I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw my helmet away and shake some answers out of my best friend. Why had he kissed me? Why had it turned me on? Why couldn’t I get it out of my head? Why did I spend hours daydreaming about it yesterday?
Since the moment I had gotten my senses back and pushed Tyler away, I had been simmering in regrets. Why hadn’t I let it last a moment longer? Maybe things would have been clearer if we’d kept kissing.
