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“Carp?” the voice from last night questions. “Like the fish?”
“Nick,” I whimper, my voice sounding to sweet even to me, and I don’t understand it. “Yeah, baby?” “I wanna come. Please.”
I don’t know him in any sense other than the physical, but I already need him.
“You don’t have to leave.” I shove my hands in the pockets and lean against the foot of the bed. A blush creeps up his neck, and it’s fucking adorable.
“Hey, this doesn’t have to be awkward,” I turn and say to his back. “I would like to be your friend.” He stops with his hand on the doorknob and sighs so heavily his shoulders drop. “You’re not like anyone else,” he says to the door. “And that scares the shit out of me.” Then he’s gone.
They come to stand in front of Joey, and I take my earbud out so I can listen to what’s going on. I’m a nosey bastard.
“You know I’ll never be able to look at one of these again, right?” Nick laughs, his shoulders shaking as he shoves another bite into his mouth and licks his fingers. “Yeah, that’s the point.” He looks at me. “You can’t ever forget me now.”
My soft boy that just wants cuddles and attention is hidden behind the hockey player mask.
I want Joey back and for him to promise he won’t ever leave me again.
“Help me.” Tears are running down my face and I’m barely keeping myself from a full-blown meltdown. “I-I-I—” I can’t fucking breathe.
“Hey, you’re okay.” His arms tighten around me when I grip his shirt in my fists. “Let’s go inside, come on.”
“Baby, are you with me?” His lips are a ghost on mine. “Nothing matters but me.”
“Good boy.”
“Okay.” He looks at my shoes and nods. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I can handle your life, to prove that I understand your responsibilities, but when you’re ready to let me try, you know where to find me.”
“Friends that sometimes cuddle, though, right?” My voice is quiet and I can feel my cheeks heat.
“Stop being perfect.” Nick bites at my lip and kisses the tip of my noise. “I’m only perfect for you.”
“Poor Jer Bear is in for a long night,” Oiler sighs and shakes his head. “What?” I turn to look at him and Albrooke winces. “Yeah, thanks, Cap.” He looks behind me, probably at Carmichael, then back to the ice. “Way to rile him up before bedtime.”
Eventually, Joey falls asleep on the floor with his head on my leg like a pillow and my hand in his hair. It’s so damn perfect, I take a picture of it and set it as my phone's wallpaper.
Since I don’t do social media—growing up with foster kids means no sharing of information online—it didn’t even cross my mind to see if Joey had one. Now I have to go stalk it.
His voice is so quiet I almost miss his next words. “I miss you.”
“What do you need right now?” “You.” “You have me. I’m yours, remember?”
JOEY: Are you busy? NICK: Never too busy for you.
Nick is fidgeting, won’t keep still, which is making me nervous. When he sighs for the twentieth time, I pause the movie. “What is your problem?” “I want you to move to Washington with me after graduation.”
