Page 56 of Crease Collision

“Me too. This is beautiful, huh?” He gestures at the brilliant red and gold foliage dotting the esplanade.

We stop to admire a spectacular tree, and after we rate it ten out of ten, Kai’s expression turns serious. He swallows hard, and his voice comes out raspy. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to do that.”

My stomach flutters so much I put a hand over it. “I knew you were scared. But I did not expect you to run.”

He flinches but does not look away.

“It was difficult,” I add. “I thought we had more trust than that.”

“I’m not the only one who could’ve been in touch more, you know.” He clamps his mouth shut and takes a moment before saying, “That was unfair. You tried to stay in touch, and I blew you off.”

Now it is my turn to laugh. “You blew me off? Yes, a few times, but not while you were away.”

The red returns to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean like that. Not that I wouldn’t have liked to, but… God!” He rolls his eyes and lets out a little sigh. “That expression has two meanings. The one you know, and the one that means to ignore someone.”

I will not tell him I knew this. “Thank you. I am afraid I will never learn to speak American.”

He bumps my arm. “You already do, you big oaf. Just use more contractions and slur your words together a little. As for slang, let me teach you. Don’t listen to those dumbass Fury guys. It’s a well-known fact that they’re not very smart.”

I puff my chest out as much as I can and slur my words. “Fuck off, man. I’m a Fury guy, and I’m fuckin’ brilliant.”

“There you go.” He brushes the back of my hand with his thumb. “Now you sound a hundred percent American.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“Back to the important stuff. I’m sorry I⁠—”

“Enough.” I can’t help touching the cuff of his jacket. “You have already apologized, and I accept it. I need to apologize too because I should have been more forthright last summer. And because I could have found a way to let you know I play for the Fury before our game. I chose not to try. By then I felt…”

He lifts an eyebrow.

“Since I had not heard from you for so long, I thought you deserved the surprise.”

More laughter bubbles out of him. “You fucker! I knew it. You did stage it.”

“Not quite the way you mean it. I didn’t know Morrison would be hurt, and I had planned to come to your locker room after the game. When it turned out I had to play, I assumed you would recognize my name. I wanted to… what’s the saying… show you what you were missing.”

He laughs yet again, the loudest one today, and we start walking again.

“You find an apartment?” he asks.

“Yes. It is very nice. Would you like to see it?”

He delays a beat too long, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.

“Maybe not today,” he says, “but soon. I’m tired from the roadie and don’t know if I feel like going to Jersey and back.”

“It’s not in Jersey. I live in Chelsea, not far from where we are now.”

He tilts his head. “My place isn’t far either.”

“I know. That will make it convenient if we want to hang out.” I hold my breath for a second, then say, “Living in Manhattan is worth the commute, which does not usually take long.”

He looks out at the water so long I brace myself for the worst.

When he turns back, his lips are trembling. “I’m glad you aren’t far. Can I ask a question?”

“By all means.” My stomach clenches. I have not been able to do much bracing.