Only One Bed
Page 14
It felt different now. I couldn’t understand why. This was the longest we’d gone since we met in grade nine without seeing each other in person. But we still talked and texted and played League of Legends every week. We were still best friends. Nothing should be different. Nothing should have changed.
“Before we left Vancouver, I thought he was getting into you.”
Was Bree right? I’d tried not to think about it. Between rehearsal for the show and the news about Chloe and Phillipe, I’d had my fill of worry. Not to mention Bree’s concussion. She’d insisted on not saying anything to the people in charge. So far, she’d been okay. No really bad days, and yesterday had been really good.
We’d modified our exhibition number to avoid the moves that seemed to affect her the most. We hadn’t discussed the Olympics again aside from agreeing that we’d get through these holiday performances first. Nationals were at the end of January. In the new year, we could talk about the future.
For the next week and a half, I had to worry about two shows a day, and that was enough. That and how I’d sleep inches away from Sam without kissing him. He was staying through New Year’s, and it would be awesome.
I had to piss, but I didn’t want to get up and wake him. Sam had trouble sleeping sometimes. He could fall asleep okay but woke up easily. He looked so peaceful. Pissing could wait.
And obviously I wasn’t going to kiss him because it would ruin everything. Sam wasn’t into me. He’d never even hinted at being anything but straight. He’d have said something.
Unless he hadn’t known?
That surge of hope in my stupid heart was only going to make this worse. I’d been putting off dating anyone seriously for too long. I’d hooked up when I needed to, and training kept me busy and exhausted. But how much longer was I going to dream?
Sam snorted and mumbled as he stirred. I shut my eyes, going rigid. I didn’t want him to think I was being a creeper watching him while he slept. He’d never been freaked out that I was gay. I’d told him when we were sixteen, and he’d said, “Cool.”
That was it, just that one word. I knew his brother was gay and his family was totally supportive, but I’d still been nervous. Probably because I was afraid he’d know I was in love with him. But he still hadn’t figured it out. Or had he? And maybe my feelings weren’t as one-sided as I thought? Maybe?
I flipped to my other side, cursing Bree for putting the idea in my head. It was wishful thinking.
Sam yawned and mumbled, “’Morning. Is it morning?”
After stretching and pretending I’d just woken, I sat up to peek between the drawn curtains. “Yep. Sunny. It’s after nine.” I hadn’t slept this late in forever.
Rolling over, Sam stretched, making a cute little noise as his back arched. His tee had bunched up, and I stared at the soft, exposed skin. His belly was smooth, but there were a few hairs poking up from the waistband of his boxers.
I catapulted out of bed and escaped into the bathroom to finally piss, but I had to breathe calmly for a minute before I could. Jesus, I was acting like I was fourteen again and having all these new, exciting, confusing feelings for Sam. I should have been over this crush years ago.
It wasn’t a crush, which was the entire problem.
My lucky robe hung on a hook, so at least I didn’t have to go back out in a towel. I shut down the memory of Sam sucking that candy cane, the towel slipping down his hips…
The white terrycloth robe was faded and dingy. I should probably bleach it, but I was afraid it would disintegrate. I didn’t even put it in the dryer anymore. I’d swiped it from the hotel in China after Bree and I won our first junior international competition. The robe came everywhere with me.
Sam was stretched out on the bed, scrolling his phone in one hand and idly scratching his belly with the other. I said, “Bathroom’s free!” too energetically.
He only said, “Cool,” so maybe he didn’t notice I was being strange. Or maybe he was used to it. He shuffled into the bathroom, yawning again, still scrolling.
As I tugged on my gray, stretchy practice clothes, I cursed myself again for being so wound up. I had to forget what Bree had said. She had to be wrong. There was just no way Sam was into me. The shower ran in the bathroom, and I tried my best not to think of him wet and soapy.
I normally turned on the coffee machine first thing, so I did it now, fidgeting as I waited for it to heat. The hotel was big on being environmentally friendly, so it was a machine without the pods, but the coffee was way better.