Page 125 of End Game

“Oh, I would kiss the hell out of you,” he says readily. “We would cuddle.”

“Like we did last night?”

“Yeah, and almost every night it’s feasible.” He shrugs. “Sometimes we have conflicting schedules or need some space or alone time. We could have weeknight sleepovers in addition to after a party or a game.”

“So…”

“So basically we take our existing friendship and ramp it up a notch,” he says. “I could call you baby and you wouldn’t freak out.”

“I like when you call me baby,” I admit.

“And we’re already going on dates, we just aren’t calling them that,” he points out. “Spending time together just the two of us, going to dinner, going to a party, and then going home together at the end of the night.”

He’s right about that. We’ve practically already been dating without the label for the last few months.

“And sex?”

Barrett swallows. “When you’re ready, when we’re ready, we can have sex. We don’t need to rush if we’re not at that point yet. We have forever to get there.”

“Get where?”

“If you’re not attracted to me…”

I scoff. “B, I asked to suck your dick.”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

He’s not getting it.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to,” I tell him flatly.

“You wanted to?” He looks confused.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re hot as hell. Yeah, I’m attracted to you. I have been since I was sixteen.”

He blinks. “You—?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be ready to say those three words yet, but I definitely like you as more than a friend. That’s not in question,” I tell him. “What I don’t know is if I can handle a relationship. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t know how to balance school and soccer and you and everything.”

“The same way you balance everything right now,” he says.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t want a relationship?” He looks like his world is falling to pieces.

“I don’t know what I want. What I want is you,” I admit. “And you want a relationship, so, yeah, I’ll try.”

“I want to love you,” Barrett says. “Whatever that looks like for us, that’s what’s important. I want to love you.”

“I want that, too.”

He reaches across the bed and takes my hand. “We don’t have to overthink this. We can play it by ear.” He squeezes my hand. “When I thought you were pregnant…”

“I’m not,” I assure him quickly. “I got my period a week later.”

“I trust you,” he says. “But when I thought you were… I offered to marry you, yeah, but I wanted to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I understand if you’re not there yet. There’s a lot of road to navigate between now and then. I just want you to know where my head is. This isn’t some casual, superficial fling. This is the real thing for me.”

I swallow. “Your parents…”