35. BILSON

THIRTY-FIVE

BILSON

We figure the first thing we should do is give Lucia a heads-up. Who knows? Maybe she’ll murder us, and the word of us being together won’t come out at all.

After our next practice, we head for the PR department.

Since coming out to his parents, Miles is like a new person. He has a spring in his step, and he slaps my ass in the locker room without caring if anyone calls it out, which they don’t because, you know, jock rules: touching other people’s butts is okay as long as it has to do with sports.

He seems … free.

And I love seeing him with this newfound freedom. While also kind of dreading it because I’m sure I’m going to fuck us up somehow.

I have relationship PTSD.

I wasn’t lying when I told him it’s different with him—I don’t have that same need I’ve had in the past where I worry about holding on to him—but I can’t help wondering how long that’s going to last. What happens when there’s insecurity or jealousy or we fight?

He says he can’t see a time where my affection could be annoying, but he’s also never seen the extent of my neediness when I’m peak Bilson.

When we get to Lucia’s door, I pull on Miles’s hand. “Just double-checking you’re okay with taking this step?”

“It’s not like we’re telling everyone. Wait … are you still okay with this?”

I nod but swallow hard.

“We don’t have to if you’re unsure.”

“Nah. I’m all good.” Again, for now. Doing this isn’t going to change anything. Not really. It’s the next step that might make me break.

Miles knocks, and as soon as Lucia answers, he turns on his boyish charm. “I have bad news for you, Chia.”

She slumps. “What have you two done now?”

“Nothing. Everything. Nothing bad, I mean.” Miles loses some of his confidence. “It’s that your and my impending marriage is off.”

“Oh no,” she deadpans. “How will I cope? Please, tell me why we could never be?”

“I’m a taken man now.”

She glances between me and Miles, and she slumps. “You two didn’t run off and get married, did you?”

“Why do I feel like that’s directed at you?” Miles asks me.

“She went with the odds?”

“So who is the lucky la—” She stops herself from finishing lady and side-eyes me. “Person?”

I raise my hand. “That would be me, but we’re not married. We’re … together.”

To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch or act shocked. “Good to know. What’s your game plan here? Do you have one? Want to release a statement, a press conf⁠—”

“No,” we both say at the same time.

“We kind of want to keep it quiet,” I say.

“Not because we’re ashamed,” Miles adds, almost panicking. “We’re not. I’d have sex with Cody on the ice if he’d let me.”

“What he means is we don’t really want to deal with the pressure of having the media, our teammates, and the whole circus that goes along with it, but if it comes out, or this one says he’s not going to come out and then blurts it all over the place like he did with his parents …” I point at Miles. “Then we wanted to tell you first so you know how to deal with it if it happens.”

She holds her heart. “Aww, I love when idiots fall in love and have the sense to give me notice before I find out by reading it online. Your old PR manager was wrong, Cody. You’re not impulsive and annoying at all.”

“I take offense,” I protest.

“Do you though?”

“I’m not annoying. I’m delightful.”

“I notice you didn’t say you weren’t impulsive,” Lucia says.

“I’ve been married four times, became a free agent so I’d stop running into them, and then had sex with a teammate because we couldn’t find a woman who wanted to be the meat in our sandwich. I think if I were to argue the impulsive thing, you’d send me for a psych evaluation.”

“Fair point,” Lucia says. “I’ll whip up a few different statements to keep on hand in case you can’t rein in that impulsiveness. I also might suggest you tell your agents and give them the heads-up, but I don’t see this becoming a problem with your contracts. Also make sure you tell someone if your teammates are dicks about it whenever you tell them. And ignore the rednecks in the stands who’ll scream ignorant shit. You’re welcome here.”

Oh, look, my fake smile is back.

Miles takes my hand. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I say numbly. Because we’re not telling anyone yet. It’s still fine. It’s all good. The only people who know are Lucia, Dex, and Tripp. That’s all who need to know at this point.

Miles has to practically drag me out of the office because the weight of reality makes my feet feel like lead.

The thick fog of doubt and uncertainty, media scrutiny, and endless jokes about more failed marriages blankets me.

I squeeze Miles’s hand and try to bring myself back from panic, but it claws at me, making me hold tighter and tighter.

“Fuck,” Miles hisses and then backs me against the wall in the corridor. “What’s wrong, what’s happening, why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“What if we’re a mistake?” The words tumble from me.

His eyes turn sad, but he doesn’t let it show for long. “You think we’re a mistake suddenly?”

“No. Yes? I’m confused. It’s real now.”

“It hasn’t been real for you?”

“It has, but …” I shake my head. “When we thought we couldn’t actually be together or have a proper future, the worry of you leaving me wasn’t there because I knew you would do it. I didn’t try to smother you to make you stay because you were never going to stay. You were always going to leave, and I was okay with that. But now …”

“Now I actually want to be with you, and come out with you, and do this relationship for real … you, what? Don’t want it anymore?”

It makes absolutely no rational sense, and I know that, but I can’t help it. This is me. This is what I do in relationships. “That’s the problem. We have an actual chance. You could potentially be my endgame. I want it so much that the thought of losing you, the thought of me being too much and making you walk away … what if I repeat the same mistakes? What if⁠—”

Miles kisses me right here where anyone could see, but I don’t push him away. Because when his mouth is on mine, the fear goes away. Nothing else exists.

He breaks his mouth from mine once I’ve calmed down a bit. “Cody.” He sounds patient now, but really, how long is that going to last?

“Mmm?”

“I know you’re a mess when it comes to relationships. You have baggage. Someone your age will always come with baggage.” He smirks.

“Fuck you.”

Now he’s laughing. Of course.

“If you’re unsure, talk to me,” he says. “If you’re feeling insecure, I’ll be there to remind you that I’m here. That I’m yours.”

“And when that fails and I get possessive and ask where you’ve been and why you weren’t home on time and⁠—”

Miles presses a finger against my lips. “Can I ask something, and I really want you to think about it. Don’t say the first thing that comes to your head; truly think.”

“Okay …”

“What changed between telling my parents and coming here to talk to Lucia?”

I press my lips together and really think. “Telling her made this serious.”

“Come on. We’ve been serious since we met. Best friends who fuck. That’s what we’ve been the whole time. It hasn’t changed. The only difference is it won’t be a secret anymore.”

“What if I go and ruin it by proposing?”

“You won’t need to worry about that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll say no. I, Miles Jonathon Olsen, solemnly swear to never let you walk down the aisle again. Ever.”

“Then how will we know that we have our happily ever after?”

“Tell me. Has any of your marriage licenses been proof of your happiness?”

“No, but⁠—”

“Happily ever after is what makes you happy. Not what society says will mean you’re happy.”

The lingering nerves finally leave me, and I take a deep breath. “I really hate that you have your shit together at your age. Shouldn’t I be the one giving you life advice?”

“Maybe on what not to do?”

“You little punk.”

“You love me this way though.”

Yeah, I do.