Page 40 of No Contest
It was a stupid question, but it was real.
"It won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do. I want you, and that doesn't change if we wait until your ribs aren't screaming in pain."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to say I could power through. I'd played entire games feeling worse. Sitting there with his hands on my face, I couldn't lie anymore.
"They really hurt."
"I know."
"I wanted this to be—" I gestured vaguely. "Not stopping because my stupid body betrayed me."
"Your body's not stupid. It's telling you to rest."
"I don't want to rest. I want to stay here with you and—" My face flushed. "Yeah, it hurts. Bad enough I'm not sure I could—" I stopped, couldn't finish that sentence.
"It's okay." He ran his hand through my hair. "We have time."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed with my shoulders hunched, trying not to feel like a massive disappointment.
He found my hoodie, handed it to me, and then pulled his shirt back on. The moment had passed, and I began retreating into a spiral.
"Hey. This doesn't change anything."
"Feels like it does."
"I still want you."
I looked at him sideways. "You're not disappointed?"
"I'm frustrated as hell, but not disappointed. Not in you."
That surprised me enough to smile. "Frustrated's good. Means you wanted it too."
He glanced down at the outline of his dick, swollen in his jeans. We both laughed.
I stood carefully, testing my ribs. They complained but didn't scream. "I should go. Let you sleep."
I half-expected him to argue. To ask me to stay. Part of me wanted him to.
"Okay."
Right. Of course.
I pulled on my boots slowly and shrugged into my jacket. Stood there like an idiot trying to figure out what to say.
"Thanks for today. For practice. For Hillcrest. For—" I gestured at the apartment. "For this."
"Thanks for coming."
"Sorry it ended like this."
