Page 17 of The Score

"He deserved it. Besides, the whole thing pissed me off enough to try for the school's football team a few days later, just to get all that out physically without any more trouble. See where it got me?"

"Fair, but you have to admit to the drama. The way you steamrolled those poor guys for the try outs, with fresh stitches on your lip, those bruises, and a general angry disposition— suddenly half the school was scared of you, and the other half wanted to be near you."

His untrained advance was so impressive, the coach got special mentorships for him and pointed him out to scouts. Meanwhile, no one messed with me or my feelings again. Everyone started calling him Bear, too.

"Can't say I was upset about either one of those," he replies.

I take a deep breath. The detour in our discussion helped calm me down, but it didn't change my mind.

"Bear, I… I can't be your wife. You deserve exactly what you want, and that's not me. I'm not romantic. It was easy to give it all up a long time ago. Don't settle for— for—"

He takes a step closer. His hands squeeze tight. "I'm not settling. I'm also not saying we have to be real husband and wife. I know how you feel about romance and marriage. I know what we have. We can do this as friends."

"As friends? You know it's already a big leap if you want to wait for someone who will be okay with our friendship. But waiting for someone— I mean, we'd have to divorce, right? Neither of us has been into exploring polyamory. The chances of someone who would accept our friendship after being married and divorced is— so minimal and I—"

I can't handle having to watch Bear fall in love with someone to that degree or, worse, seeing him facing a decision between the love of his life and me.

"We can divorce after a while." His voice is deeper than ever. "Of course. No other way, considering. The thing is, the kind of woman I could fall for would not have an issue with our friendship— hard as it might be to find her. And I could explain why you and I were married for a while. She'd have to understand that too."

"That's a lot to ask of anybody."

"I will ask. A hundred times over. Because I'm not willing to fail you as a friend by not doing something I promised. Or taking love from someone who can't accept how important you are to me."

"Leon… your standards are so…"

I want to say high, of course. Maybe even unrealistic, but I don't let myself say it. I'm cynical about romance at large but that doesn't make his wishlist wrong. He deserves the kind of love he wants. He just may be looking for a while, which, good for me. In a very selfish way.

"It's valid, is what it is," he argues. "But until I find it, I can use that time to care for you and your parents as I want to. It would make me happy. Pen— itmakes sense."

Again, I open my mouth to respond but nothing comes out. My heart has settled somewhat, even if I can still feel each beat drumming against my chest.

He takes a step closer. One of his hands leaves my arm to run gentle fingers down my hair.

Tenderness shines in his dark eyes. "We can give your dad what he wants. We can do your bucket list and make your dreams come true as well. And after a while, we tell them we tried but discovered we're better off as friends."

"You make it sound so easy."

We are so close now that our bodies touch.

"Why wouldn't it be easy?" he asks. "I care about you. This is me letting other people see it in a new way— even if they don't know the full truth. I thought about it all the way here. Remember that genetic testing you wanted to get done to see if you got your dad's kidney problems? You can do it using my health insurance. Get an MRI too, just in case."

I know what he truly means. He doesn't want to lose me or see me get sick, unprepared and unsupported. He wants to take care of me.

Could I do this? We would have to live together and fake it in front of most people, nevermind how often we've insisted there's nothing like that between us. We would have to take our relationship as far as being married, legally entwining our lives even more than they already are. Worst of all, I would have to be careful not to let it confuse me, to the point I start thinking Bear will give up on romance, too.

He takes my face in his hands. "This could help us feel like we're doing something for him, too. For both your parents. We could have a beautiful wedding, Pen."

I gaze at him for a while, chasing my thoughts, pushing away my worries.

"The only wedding I'll have," I say, "and a practice run for you."

"You're not a practice run."

"Bear…"

"I'll marry you like my best friend. Don't they say the best marriages have friendship? We'll go into it knowing it will end some time later, that's all."

I hesitate. We lived together for a few months back in high school. We've traveled together. Sometimes, I spend the night at his place. Something in me knows this will feel different.