Page 91 of Hell or High Water
Yeah? You wanna tell me about it?
And that was the biggest problem. The one that Ramsey was wrestling with, the one that he turned over and over in his mind and couldn’t seem to find an appropriate solution to. Maybe theonlyproblem he had never found an appropriate solution to.
What to do about Nate and how he seemed to be the first person Ramsey always wanted to talk to.
It didn’t make any fucking sense. Nate wasn’t his oldest friend or his best friend, or really any kind of friend at all. But he felt drawn to him in a way he couldn’t explain. Couldn’t quantify.
The situation at Aidan and Levi’s the other day had just solidified all those feelings into something hard and inescapable inside him. Something he couldn’t avoid, even if he wanted to.
Did he even want to, anymore?
Ramsey tapped his fingers on the screen. Useless. Not sure what to say. Knew what he wanted,desperately, if he was beinghonest with himself. In the end it was the fear that made him text back.
I’ll bring over takeout?
That was better, right? More casual. More like the “dates” they’d already done, and less officially date-like. Not that Ramsey had any real idea of what a real date might be like, besides the obvious stuff. Dinner and a movie. Holding hands. Making out in the back of the theater. Well, he hadn’t done any of that stuff. Well,mostlyany of that stuff.
A second later a text came in.Sure.
Then, another one.We can practice our hand holding again. Stars v Leafs on tonight. Thought you might wanna watch it.
Before he could think, before he couldoverthink, Ramsey typed out,more interested in practicing something else.But before he could—before he could eventhinkthe phrase,maybe we’re done with practicing and ready for the real thing now—he deleted the message.
In the end, he took a page from Nate’s book and kept it simple.Sure.
But his whole walk to the car, and on the drive to the sushi restaurant to pick up food, Ramsey was thinking about it. Didn’t want to be, butwas.
Stillthinking about it, if he was continuing the trend of being a little too honest with himself.
In June, Ramsey slept with him because he’d wanted to, sure, but also because he’d hoped by shoving Nate into a conventional box, he could deal with him. But that had never worked, had it?
Even shoving him into an unconventional box by suggesting they pretend to date hadn’t worked.
Nothing had worked, and now here he was, knowing better than to send stupid texts but doing it still. Knowing better than to go over to Nate’s condo, a complicated pool of desireand affection in the base of his stomach, but definitely doing it anyway.
He was feeling too fucking good to be cautious.
He’dskatedtoday.
That thought buoyed him all the way from the restaurant to Nate’s building and up to his door. To the point that he wasn’t even sure anymore that the fizzing happiness bubbling away inside of him wasn’t just about the progress he’d made on his recovery but maybe who he was going to get to tell about it.
Nate opened the door right after his first knock, like he’d been waiting. Like he’d been standing near it, just as eager as Ramsey felt.
“Hey,” Nate said, holding the door in as Ramsey walked in, toeing off his shoes and handing the bag of takeout to Nate as he pulled off his heavier coat.
“Hey,” Ramsey said, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t do something monumentally stupid and totally out of character—additionallyout of character—and grab for him.
Lose himself in the uncomplicated joy of the way he already knew their bodies fit together.
It would be so easy. It would besogood. But Nate had said he didn’t want to cross the line, so Ramsey wasn’t going to be the one to do it, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Come on in,” Nate said, gesturing towards the living room. “I put the game on—but first, tell me what was so good about today.”
The words burst out of Ramsey, like he’d been holding them in too long. “I got back on the ice today. Got to skate,finally.”
It had felt real when he was doing it, but there was nothing more real than opening his mouth and telling Nate. Watching the knowledge filter through Nate’s brain in real time, and hissmile—Nate had given him real fucking smiles a handful of times before, sure, but Ramsey was pretty sure it had never been likethis before, not since June—it was lighting up parts inside of him that had been cold and dead for so long Ramsey might’ve even forgotten they existed.
Maybe they’dneverexisted before.
