108

Kassie

Mutual Middle Fingers

I didn't want to wait by the entrance of the stadium. There were too many people I recognized and knew from the lunch-ins. I took a detour in the half-hallways behind the bleachers. Every TV around me flickered on with my animations. Everywhere I checked, I could see what I'd spent months on.

My steps became smaller and smaller until I stood in front of one of the digital posters, Ryan. Holding up a football. Tilting his head back, eyes narrowed—Mr. Intense himself.

Walking up the stairs behind me.

He didn't look like any of the projects I worked on, he didn't even look like himself. Bloodshot eyes, his hair was messier than usual, and there was a heaviness to his limbs that hadn't ever been there before. But if all of that was bad, I couldn't imagine how much worse it could've been if anything happened with the Henry Miller situation.

I crossed my arms and my heart thumped painfully in my chest.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I demanded, voice cracking.

A tired smile lifted on his lips and it brightened up his whole face.

I had to push through that.

Dropping my voice to a whisper—you never know who's listening—I shook my head. "You knocked Henry Miller around and you didn't even stop to consider what could happen if he called the police? If everybody finds out, you lose everything. You do understand that? Please—for the love of god— say you understand that. Because I cannot believe this."

His smile widened.

"And you dragged your best friends into it—you know they do anything you ask them to! They could've gotten hurt— no — you could've gotten hurt." The idea of Ryan, hurt , put a lump in my throat. It was hard to talk through it. "Stupid and reckless—Henry could've had a knife. He could've had a gun!"

"I miss you," he said, his voice low. "So much."

"You must be the biggest goddamn shortsighted dumbass I have ever met in my life," I snapped.

Ryan gazed at me. I looked up at him. With a deep breath, I strode over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

Nothing about the hug with Ryan was a friend hug or the last thing you do before you break away from each other forever. He dipped down to my neck and wrapped his arms around me, bunching up the fabric at the bottom of my hoodie, grazing the inch of exposed skin. Every time he breathed, goosebumps rose on my skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head against his chest. "You're not sorry about the Henry Miller situation."

"Yeah. I'm not. But I'm not apologizing for that." His fingers swept along my back and he tightened his hold on me. "I'm so sorry about what I said. You love art. I love you. I'd never want to take any part of you away."

There was a catch in my breath and I needed space between us. With every second, all I wanted to say was that it was completely fine and it was okay and I would fly off with him to Nebraska or wherever but I couldn't say that.

I broke away from him and walked back to the bleachers, sitting in the first one I saw, blocking the rest of the row. He had to sit in the one on the other side of the aisle.

Because if he sat right next to me, I would do something stupid like sit on his lap.

"I'm staying at Marrs," he told me, taking the seat. He shifted his whole body to face me, keeping his voice quiet. "None of them know yet but I'll transfer to Florida. If I transfer, I can get comfortable with the coaches there and—"

I took a deep breath. "I don't want you to go to Florida."

His eyebrows furrowed but he fell silent.

"I don't," I repeated softly. "You'd be leaving everything behind."

"I put down the money for the apartment. Full amount upfront"

"Ryan." I sighed and rubbed my temples. "You didn't need to do that."

"Wherever you go, I want to go."

Except, we had no idea if that was true. And if I pushed Ryan to go to Orlando and he wasn't happy? The damage was done. He couldn't go back to Marrs.

"I would never risk your happiness, ever," I told him. "I'd never do that to you."

He shifted back in his seat and I knew he could feel the layers in my words. I'd never put that on him. He could never do that to me. It was an agreement we had to have and something he needed to come to terms with.

"You hurt me real badly," I said, point blank. But that wasn't the end of it, it wasn't the full sentence. Not even close. "But I love you. I'm in love with you. And I don't want to run and shut you out."

He took a deep breath. "If you go, I go."

"Well, I'm not going to Florida anyway."

"You're—?" He stopped himself, leaning forward. "You're not going to Florida."

"Nope. You lost your deposit money."

"You're staying here?"

"I'm staying here."

He took a deep breath and pointed to himself. " I'm staying here."

"Yeah, I know." I couldn't help the smile. "Everything's finally working out with the design department. I like building my own projects, I'm finally getting comfortable here and I don't want to walk away from you. I don't."

Ryan reached out for my hand and drew me closer to him across the aisle. My heart beat in my throat. I couldn't look away from those dark honey eyes if I tried.

"I've loved you every second you've sung cartoon movie soundtracks in my car. I've loved you every second you had me sitting on your bed so you could draw my ankles—or whatever the hell you were doing. I've loved you every time I got to touch you and every second I dreamed about it. I have loved you. Every second. Every minute. And I'm so sorry."

I melted. I couldn't not melt.

"I'm pretty sure you fucked up my life," he admitted, his voice low. "There's that."

With a shrug, I sighed. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't fuck up my life."

But there was something he needed to understand.

I put my hand to the side of his face. "It's going to be hard."

"Okay," he murmured.

"I'm serious, Ryan. You could sign on across the country and I will be joining a studio after I graduate. We could be in two entirely different places. You need to accept that."

Slowly, he nodded and cupped my face. "It's going to be hard when we have kids."

And for the first time ever, I could see a future. Not just the written down goals I've jotted in the inside of a sketchbook, but a real future. Tangible and alive. All the phone calls, the long nights while he'd travel, trying to keep up with each other's schedules, but I could see something else too. Something worth all of the effort. Dragging him to all the projects I'd ever work on, and cheering from the front row seats of as many games as I could. And Ryan with salt-and-pepper hair with one of our kids on his shoulder.

I swallowed. "It's going to be a lot of work."

He nodded again, slower this time and leaned in, crossing the distance between us. My hands went to his neck off instinct alone and I kissed him, closing my eyes, swept away by how much love I could hold for this man.

"Thank fuck!" Adam shouted from the field.

Ryan tried to break away from me, probably to yell at Adam, but I pulled him back just as quickly and kissed him again. I spent too many nights without him, I wanted to keep kissing him and his teammates could suck a dick if they wanted to stop me.

I threw up my middle finger and Ryan chuckled against my lips, no doubt catching sight of it.

"He's been fucking pathetic, Kassie!" Adam yelled out. "Thanks for coming back!"

There were catcalls and wolf whistles from the field from more teammates and I drew back to give them a piece of my mind before Ryan knotted his fingers through my hair, kissing me again.

His lips traveled down to my neck and I caught sight of Ryan, flipping off our audience with me.

"I love you," I whispered, pulling him back up to kiss him on the lips again.

"Love you more, art girl."

"Want a bet?"

"That's a bet."