Page 145 of I'm Your Guy
“I was going to fight him,” I admit. “And I was probably going to throw the first punch. But I woulda won—just saying. Me and my pussy and my little rainbow friends.”
Coach puts his clipboard in front of his face, so the cameras won’t catch him laughing.
FIFTY-TWO
Carter
I’m making a spectacular dinner. It’s my big accomplishment for the day. Well, aside from renting that apartment with the storefront on Fourteenth Street.
But the dinner is going to be a highlight reel kind of meal. I’ve got bacon-wrapped marinated pork chops, whipped garlic potatoes, and sautéed broccolini.
The table is set, the candles are burning. The wine is uncorked. And I just saw Newgate’s car pull into his parking spot across the street, so I know that Tommaso won’t be far behind.
Last night we video-chatted. On purpose this time. But it was late, and not our best conversation.
“I’m suuuuuper drunk,” he’d said when he’d called from the bed in his hotel room, his dress shirt half unbuttoned.
It had been a struggle not to laugh. “I see that. Any particular reason?”
He’d shaken his head in an exaggerated manner. “I never get super drunk! Gonna have a bad headache prolly. But we were in a super good mood.”
“Excellent,” I’d said. “But you made it back to your hotel room okay?”
“Kapski helped,” he’d said with a shrug. “I gotta favor to ask.”
“Shoot.”
“Can you wait for me?”
“Um…sure? Where?”
“At home. Tomorrow.” He’d burped. “Like, with the lights on? I really like it when you’re there. And I’m there. At the same time. When I come home.”
“Okay?” I’d tried to piece this together. “Why don’t you text me tomorrow, so I know when you’re coming home, and I’ll wait for you. With the lights on.”
“Cool,” he’d said, nodding drunkenly. “I know you gotta be your own man and stuff. But tonight went good, and I like to see you when I come home from trips. I also like to see you naked. But not at the same time? I mean…” He’d broken off and sighed, and then his eyes closed halfway.
“Time for bed,” I’d said brightly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“’Kay.” He’d closed his eyes all the way. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” I’d said. But then I’d slapped my hand across my mouth, because I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that when he was drunk and half asleep.
“I heard that. You can say it again tomorrow. Can you maybe end the call now? I might forget.”
“Sure, honey. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he’d mumbled, and I’d hit the red button.
Today they’d had some kind of skating clinic with a guru in New York. I’d spent the day trying to plan my uncertain future and hoping that signing a new lease wasn’t irresponsible.
And wondering if Tommaso would remember me telling him that I loved him. Which I do. It just slipped out, because I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
On paper, we’re a risky bet. New couple. Very little in common. And he’s a rookie at dating a man. And yet the pull I feel toward him is so strong it takes my breath away.
Trusting him is easier than it should be, given my history. But Tommaso is the most serious person I’ve ever met. If he tells me his feelings are real, then I have to believe him.
There are no guarantees, and I still don’t know what I did to deserve him. But maybe I don’t need to keep torturing myself with that question. Maybe I can just relax for a minute and enjoy the fact that another set of headlights is illuminating Red Rock Circle.
