Page 53 of Crease Collision

To be sure I don’t cave, I remind myself of an unavoidable fact. The last time someone looked at me like he planned to stay, I believed him. It nearly killed me, and I can’t let that happen again.

I stay under the spray until the water starts to cool. After toweling off, I wipe the mirror and look at myself. The dark circles under my eyes make me look old.

While I get dressed, I check my phone. Another message is waiting.

OSKAR: Are you really willing to walk away from this? I am not. I told you we are returning to New York on Monday night. Let me buy you lunch when you get back.

Damn it. I don’t know how he can be so direct. He always sounds so calm and certain. You’d think when I said give it time, he thought I meant make things harder for me.

I shove the phone into my pocket and leave the room.

Dinner is fine, or close enough that I can fake it. I ask for the smallest steak on the menu and try to fit in with the group. Laugh when the guys laugh, chirp when someone leaves an opening. I order a beer when everyone else does.

After we eat, they decide to go to a comedy club. I’m definitely in no mood for that, so I beg off.

Jace squints at me. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. And I’m surprised you’re not going out to find two or three Dallas guys to fuck, all at the same time.”

He laughs. “Saving that for Denver. Sure you won’t come with us?”

“I need my beauty sleep,” I say. “Dallas won’t beat itself tomorrow.”

On the way back to the hotel, I focus on net-front traffic and the risk of cross-ice passes. The Laurentian Cup pops into my thoughts, reminding me this isn’t the time to get sidetracked by a guy from a rival team who seems to know exactly where I’m vulnerable.

When I make it back to my room, I get into bed and set my alarm for seven. I consider saying hi to Mom but decide against it. She always wants to text forever.

As I’m closing the app, I accidentally open Oskar’s thread. His message is still there, and my eyes catch on one line in particular: “Are you really willing to walk away from this?”

I stare at it for a long time.

Lunch would not be a relationship or a promise. I won’t be putting my heart on a puck and inviting him to slap-shot it into the fucking sun. Maybe seeing him again is the only way to bury this once and for all. As much as I keep trying to call things with him finished, I feel like I missed a step.

I type a message.

KAI: We’ll be back on Monday too, so how about lunch on Tuesday? There’s a great place to get hot dogs in Chelsea Market. 1:30?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

OSKAR

I arrive early for lunch, pretending it is because I woke up early and the sidewalks were not crowded. That is not true. We had a game last night, so the team plane didn’t get in until after two a.m. I was so exhausted I had to force myself out of bed this morning. After a long, cool shower, I left my apartment forty-five minutes early for a fifteen-minute walk. Now I am nervous, wondering if I’m doing the right thing.

It would be easy to leave. I could turn around, walk back home, and decide I was giving Kai the space he asked for. I would respect his first answer to my text and accept that whatever we had was over. Truthfully, I wonder if he agreed to lunch only because I pressured him. He may think an in-person meeting will make it easier to end things once and for all.

But I stay put. I do not want to give up on seeing what we might become. People scurry about, some eating lunch and others carrying things away. I get lost in it and do not notice the person beside me until he says, “Hi, Oskar.”

Kai is even more handsome than he was the last time we were together, and I let myself stare at him for a moment. I am barely able to speak through the big grin that has taken over my face. “It is so good to see you. Thank you for coming.”

I hold out my arms for a hug, but he offers a hand instead. Bad sign. At least he is smiling, so I will not read too much into this. I take his hand, but after two pumps, I do not let go. Eventually I try to pull away, and he becomes the one holding on. Though he may not want a hug, he is enjoying the touch.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“You know me. Always ready to eat.”

“This way.”

He starts walking, and I hurry to catch up.