Page 60 of Offside

I wanted to be where he was with this because being mad at him…it just wasn’t working for me.

I missed both of them.

Slowly, Sam let go of my hand, dropping it to my knee and pushing my shorts hem up, cautiously watching my face. “You got this scar when you were ten–when your sister accidentally hit it with an axe while chopping wood when you were camping,” he said gently, his eyes scanning over me before pushing up my shirt with just as much caution.

He laid a few pads of his fingers over the scar on my hip, smiling up at me. “And you said you got this one from ice skating with your friends, but I’d be willing to bet it was a lie–you got it playing hockey–”

“But I couldn't tell you that,” I mumbled, softly pushing his hands off me.

No matter how nice they felt.

He was telling me things that I’d told Metal, trying to blend them as one for me, but it wasn’t doing anything but making the ache in my chest get harsher.

“Landon,” he sighed, resting his hand on my upper arm.

And that was it.

It was my name, but I heard Metal.

It wasn’t his voice, not really, but maybe his tone?

His cadence?

It was him.

It was involuntary, the way it washed over me. My eyes shut, but only because I felt myself losing the battle of crying in front of him.

My face got hot and tight, but falling into his shoulder–that was all my choice.

I was just so tired of dealing with this alone.

Being alone felt emptier than it ever had, and he made this mess–he could deal with it.

“It's okay,” Sam whispered, relief filling his voice as he tied his arms around me, nice and tight. His hand was flat on the back of my head, stroking my hair and hugging me tighter than I’d ever let a person not related to me.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked softly. I nodded slightly, fisting my hands in the back of his T-shirt and breathing every newly comforting second of salt and driftwood wafting off his skin. “I was so proud of you,” he said against my hair, smiling wide enough that I could feel it. “When you came out to me–I was so proud of you…I really wanted to kiss you, but that would have created a whole other moral dilemma.”

A lump formed in my throat at the memory.

That was such a big moment for me, and I was terrified every second of it and after it. I knew Sam was safe to tell—he had been dating a man himself. I knew I could tell him, and I wanted to do whatever Metal needed from me to make us real.

And I wasn’t doing that now.

All he needed from me now…was a shred of understanding, and we could be real.

“Oh, you draw the line at me cheating on you with yourself?” I asked, coughing out a laugh over his shoulder.

“That is my moral line,” he laughed, pulling back just a little bit to look at my face.

Eyes like fields softening on me again, closer than I’d ever seen them.

Much closer than Sam and I had ever been.

“You can do it now,” I barely got out, my only indication that he’d heard me being his widening eyes.

Man, I already really loved those expressive eyes–they couldn’t hide anything from me once I was looking.

“Really?” he asked, his slow breaths fanning over my face.