Page 24 of Cross Ice

“The guy from the club.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. Nico.”

“And?” Danny prompted when I didn’t continue.

“And… I don’t know. It’s been good. We’ve seen each other four times.”

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “Four times in eight days? Evan, that’s not hooking up. That’s dating.”

“I know.”

“Have you talked about it? About what you are?”

I shook my head. “Not really. We’re just… seeing each other. Spending time together.”

“And you’re okay with that? With not knowing?”

Was I? I took a sip of coffee to buy myself time. “I want to ask. But I’m afraid if I push, he’ll…”

“Run?” Danny finished gently.

“Yeah.”

Danny set his cup down. “Okay. Can I say something honest?”

“When do you not?”

“You’re not afraid he’ll run. You’re afraid that if you ask the right questions, you’ll get answers that mean you’ll have to decide whether this is worth the risk.” He watched my face. “There’s a difference.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Closed it.

“So ask him,” Danny said. “Before this goes any further.”

“I’m going to.” And saying it out loud made it feel true in a way it hadn’t before. Not I should, or I’m thinking about it. I was going to.

“Good.” Danny studied me. “Because this isn’t like you. You’re the guy who needs to know where he stands. The fact that you’ve been letting it slide tells me how much you like him. Can I say something else?”

“You’re going to anyway.”

“You don’t actually know what it looks like when someone asks a fair question and just… gets an answer. No fight. No fallout.” He said it carefully, like he’d been sitting on it. “From what you’ve told me, Ryan didn’t give you that. So you don’t have a template for it. And I think part of you is afraid to find out if Nico will.”

I didn’t say anything.

“That’s not paranoia,” Danny said. “That’s just not knowing what normal feels like.”

“He pulls me out of my head,” I admitted. “When I’m with him, I’m not cataloging worst-case scenarios. That’s new for me.”

“I get it.” His voice softened. “Just don’t let that become the reason you stop asking questions.”

“I won’t.” I meant it.

Danny seemed satisfied. He stood to leave a few minutes later and squeezed my shoulder at the door. “Ask your questions, Evan. You already know what they are.”

After he left, I sat at my desk without opening my laptop.

He was right. I knew what they were. I’d known for days—I’d just been letting the ease of being with Nico crowd them out. That wasn’t caution, it was avoidance, and I knew the difference.

I pulled the notebook I used for client work out of my desk drawer and opened it to a fresh page. Writing things down was how I thought clearly. How I separated what I felt from what I actually needed to know.