32. Blaise

THIRTY-TWO

I waituntil I get home from work on Thursday and I know he's done with practice to call Jordan. I wanted to call him last night, right after I spoke with Luke, but it was late and I was already emotionally wrung out. Probably not the right headspace for what needed to be said. Today I worked, and I wasn't going to call him from the back room on my lunch break—plus, he has classes all day on a Thursday.

So now's the best time. We need to talk it all out.

The phone doesn't even ring before his breathless voice in my ear says, "Blaise? I was just about to call you."

He sounds anxious but also glad I called, and that gives me the courage to say, "Can we meet up? I think we should talk."

"Yeah, me too. Are you home yet? I can be there in twenty."

I hesitate. Do I want to do this here? What if it doesn't go well? I wait too long to answer.

"Or we can meet somewhere else, but if you just want to break up with me, please tell me now. I still want to meet, but I need time to plan how I'll get you to change your mind."

The burst of relieved laughter that explodes from me is stupidly loud, and I clear my throat. "I don't want to break up."

His huge sigh of relief is balm to all my injured feelings. "Okay. That's great. What about the beach, then? Have you eaten? We can get something from the food trucks."

I don't think I could choke anything down right now, but if this goes well, maybe after. And if it doesn't, Shenanigans is right across the street from there. I'll call Calla and she can come and drown me in booze.

Twenty minutes later, I get out of the Uber and squint out over the ocean. At this time of year, the sun is setting, and tonight it's putting on a spectacular show. There are little groups and couples dotting the sand, enjoying the warm night. But my gut is a mess of knots.

"Blaise!"

I turn to see Jordan waving at me from where the pavement meets the sand, a hesitant smile on his face, and, squaring my shoulders, I go to meet him.

"I'm sorry," we say in unison, then freeze, staring at each other.

Neither of us knows what to say next.

Finally, though, I remind myself what an asshole I was to him and break the silence. "I said a lot of horrible things, and I'm really sorry. I don't think you set out to deceive me or that our relationship is an inconvenience to you. I know you were only thinking of helping me." I take a deep breath. "But there are some things I really want to do for myself, and this internship is one of them. I'm grateful—so grateful—for everything you've done for me, but I don't need you in my life for the things you can do for me." I stop and replay that. "Except for the usual things guys do for their boyfriends."

He cracks a smile. "Oh, good. I like sucking you off." He reaches out and tentatively grabs my hand. I look around, worried that someone might see but not wanting to pull away. Nobody's paying us any attention, though, and as the sun dips below the horizon, the shadows deepen, giving us more privacy. "I also like messaging you all the time and hanging out with you and touching you. Cuddles and talking about random stuff while we eat together, and helping you with costumes. Knowing that you're at my games—I swear, I can hear you cheering the loudest."

I blink, not wanting to get emotional again, and he sucks in a deep breath.

"But, Blaise, I also like being able to help you. Not… I'm not saying I need you to be dependent on me or anything. I love you for the independent, driven high achiever that you are. But when you're having a shitty day, I like being able to bring you dinner and rub your shoulders. When a design's not working, I like that you bounce ideas off me even though I have no clue what half the words mean. And when you don't have a car, I like knowing that I can lend you mine and make your life just a little bit easier. The same way you like buying me new earrings when we win and Pop-Tarts when we lose."

I snort, because I can't deny it. The only time I ever let him have Pop-Tarts at my place is if the Kings have lost. He gets a box of Pop-Tarts, a backrub, and a commiserating blowjob, and then I listen to him talk through what the problems were and how he thinks he could have done better.

"Maybe I took it too far," he continues. "I know money is a tough subject for you, and maybe I shouldn't have pushed so hard about the internship. But I swear, I only did it because I knew how much you wanted it. It wasn't because I wanted you gone."

My turn now.

"I know. I overreacted. I should have made it clear that my mind was made up. I knew you were hoping to offer me money when the deadline got closer, and I didn't want to deal with that whole conversation, so I just… didn't. But that made things worse in the end." I shake my head. "I can't tell you how much I regret what I said to you on Saturday. I'd been sitting on the email for two days, and I'd finally replied to it. I felt shitty and like I was never going to get anywhere. It was just not a good day for me." Making eye contact so he can see I mean it, I say, "I really was—am—so happy that you got scouted, Jordan. You deserve every opportunity, even if you decide you don't want it. But I'd just talked to the guy, and it was tough for me to process right then. I'm sorry I ruined such a big day for you."

"You didn't," he's quick to interject. "I swear, you didn't. Not like you mean. I… Look, since it's pretty clear that neither of us wants to break up, can we go sit down? This is going to take a while, I think."

I nod. "Want a coffee?" I offer. From what he said on the phone, he probably hasn't eaten, and I know he's always starving after practice, so I add, "Or tacos?"

"Tacos," he agrees gratefully, and we line up at the truck. I'm kind of glad for the breather. While there's a lot more to say, and I don't think we're completely out of the woods yet, I feel a lot better and want a second to get my thoughts together.

By the time we find a place to sit on the sand, the sun has completely gone and most of the other people have wandered off. It's a lot cooler now, and I'm glad for my sweater as the breeze wafts around us.

"I never intended to keep where Uncle Luke works a secret for this long," Jordan starts, jumping right into the heart of things. "I know I should have told you sooner." He pulls a face. "But I knew it would be a thing for you, and so I just… didn't. Looks like we're both guilty of avoiding the tough stuff."

"Part of that is probably because we're still new," I admit. "It's hard to talk about difficult issues when it's someone you've known for years, never mind months. We'll get better at it." I'm determined we will. "You should know, I talked to your dad."

Jordan nearly chokes on his taco. "What?"

"He called me."

If I hadn't believed Luke when he said Jordan didn't know he was calling, the horror on Jordan's face now would convince me. "Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can't believe he would do that!"

"No, it's… it was good. He didn't call to yell at me or anything. He thought I might need a dad to talk to."

Phone in his hand like he's about to call his dad and yell, Jordan freezes. "Oh."

"Yeah. He was right."

He puts his phone away. "He's a good listener, isn't he?"

I nod. "I never had that before. My dad… He's not… Anyway. It was nice. And it helped me get some things clear in my head. What you were saying before, about liking to do stuff for me, I like that too. I need to be better about telling you what my boundaries are, but I think the better we get to know each other, the more we'll learn that stuff. I'm just not used to people being in a position to do so much for me. My friends would help more if they could. I know that, but…"

"It makes you uncomfortable when there's money involved," he guesses. "Okay, so I know the internship is off the table, and I won't offer you a loan, but until you find a car, I really want you to keep using mine. It's just sitting there most of the time. Please."

"Until you leave for the summer," I bargain, just in case he has any ideas of leaving it behind and renting something when he gets back to Georgia for his internship.

"That's a fair compromise," he agrees. Then he sighs. "We need to talk about baseball."

My stomach lurches, and I wish I hadn't had those tacos after all. This is the big one. The issue that could make or break us.

Jordan's next words surprise me. "My sister came to see me yesterday."

"Mila? But doesn't she live in Philadelphia?"

"Yep."

I shake my head, but I can't hold back a smile. "Wow, your family doesn't believe in hands-off, do they?"

"Not even close. But she actually said some smart things that made me feel like an idiot." He tells me about Mila's visit and everything she said.

And then I feel like an idiot too.

"So… basically, we might be getting a bit ahead of ourselves," I summarize.

"We need to agree on this," he reiterates earnestly. "I want to be with you, and if you want me to make this decision now, I'll try?—"

"No." I trip over my own tongue getting it out. "No. If you don't know what you really want, I don't want to be the reason you're making this decision. I appreciate that you're considering me, but I mean it when I say I love you too much to force you to do something you're not ready for.

"Your sister is right—we have time to work this out. In another year, we'll know each other a lot better. We'll be at a different stage in our relationship, and you'll have had time to really think through what you want from life." I take a deep breath, feeling like the weight of the world has lifted from me. "Right now, you need to be focused on finals and regionals. The rest can wait." I smile at him. "We have time."

His return grin is the most beautiful thing I've seen in forever. "We have time," he echoes. Then his face falls. "I hate that we'll be apart over the summer, though."

"That was always going to happen," I remind him. "And if I'd gone for the internship, we would have been three hours apart for all of next year, too."

"Yeah, but I could have told myself how amazing it was for your career."

I sneak a look around, then lean over and kiss his cheek. "That's what I'm going to tell myself while you're in Georgia. Plus, I totally plan to drive up to see your dads a few times. I"ve been invited. So think of how amazing it is for our relationship that I'm getting to know your family."

His face lights up, and I can't resist adding, "Something was said about baby photos."

Instead of groaning like I expected, he laughs. "Dude, I was the cutest baby ever, bar none. And I love the idea of my dads welcoming you the way my mom did for Uncle Luke. So make sure you ask to see the photo of me fingerpainting the wall with my poop."

No guy would ever say that if he didn't truly love me and trust that I felt the same.