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I shake my head. “I really didn’t want to hurt him.” “You can’t always avoid hurting the people you love.”
“But…fuck, I miss you so much it hurts. I’m sorry I hurt you by running and keeping things from you. For so long, I felt like, at best, I’m an inconvenience, and at worst, I’m harmful. I didn’t believe I deserved you. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ve never been in love before, and maybe everyone is better at it than me, but there’ll never be a day that I won’t love you, and that I won’t try to—”
I was convinced I hated you. Not you, you, but, like, your presence and the way it slammed into me whenever you were near. If I hated you, it’s because it seemed like you knew what it did to me.”
“If I could have stayed away, I would have,” he says, turning to face me.
You made me afraid, and when I’m afraid, I fight, which never really worked with you because no matter how hard I tried, I never won any of our fights.”
I try to bury my face under the pillow again, but he pulls it away. I squeeze my eyes shut and blurt it out, “I watched a replay of one of your compilation videos while eating it and jerking off. Then some of the cream got on my hands, so I used it as lube and came so hard as I imagined you bending me over and fucking me deep in this bed.”
His teeth roll over his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “You fucked my cake.” I wince. “I fucked your cake.”
“Why do you want to be with me again?” He snorts. “Because you’d fuck a cake,” he quips, and we both burst out laughing.
“That you’ll want to run—maybe need to at times—but you can’t disappear. You have to talk to me. I can’t handle anyone else I love disappearing. Especially not you.”
“Boohoo. Welcome to my world, where every night is dedicated to ‘Late Night with Salem.’” He arches his head to the side. “What’s that?” I bury my face in his neck. “It’s when I watch YouTube videos of you until I’m either covered in cum or knocked out.”
I stare down at his lips before my tongue traces across the top one and bites into his bottom. “Mine,” I grit out. He slowly rolls his hips, making me bite down harder. “Yours,” he rasps.
“I called them when I landed. Look, you have every right to be angry with me, but just hear me out.”
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“Whether we mean to or not, we can ask a lot of the people who love us when we aren’t well. We can miss how hard it is for them too.”
“It’s bullshit that you think you have to disappear to heal. Please, no more.” I raise my gaze to Denzel, then turn it on Blue. “No more.”
I could never work out with him. He’d start a squat and end up on my dick.
“We do hugs yet?” “I got one,” Maya says. “Guys,” Salem says. “What?” his dad replies. “We’ve only been waiting five years for this day. You want a hug?” he asks me. “Sure.” I step forward into his embrace.
I scoff. “You called an acclaimed winner of not one but two James Beard Awards to help me with my monthly challenge?”
I like things that demand patience.” I steal a glance at Blue, whose eyes darken just enough for me to notice.
“Nope.” Coach Derek reaches his arm out to move me along. “Don’t poke the bear.” “He the bear?” I grin. “That pretty thing?” “Fuck you call me?” Blue asks, lip curling. “Alright.” I shoot him a smirk. “I guess I eat bears.”
“Fuck you grinning for,” Blue sneers, tearing away the snaps on his pants. “You ’bout to lose.” “Yeah, yeah.” I blow him a kiss. “Love you too, little bear.”
Oh, and come closer for this. Guess what I have wrapped around my ring finger? A unicorn bandage. It’s my thing now. The man in the kitchen says he’s gonna replace it with a gold band one day.
And I finally learned why he calls me that. Blue. And it’s not why I thought. It’s because I give him hope. That whenever he’s near me, he believes in tomorrow. Can you imagine? Us giving someone hope.
He isn’t the type of man who sees the good and beauty in everything, but he’ll observe a life-worn thing and sense its goodness and beauty. There is a difference.
