As he heads for the door, I say, “Think about my offer from last night too—about the queer collective. We’re trying to get the bingo of guys in the league. One on every team.”
Ayri smiles. “I’ll definitely think about it.”
“No pressure.” I point my thumb in Anton’s direction. “This guy makes being closeted work. Even if you need someone to talk to like you did last night, you don’t have to be out to approach any of us.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as he’s gone, Anton opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand.
“I know you have a thing about rejection, but you really don’t take it well, do you?”
“Well—”
“Coffee first. Then you can yell at me.”
“I don’t want to yell,” he says.
I make us two cups and slide his over. “Last night—”
“We were both crushed by the loss of what should have been an easy win,” Anton says.
“Well, that, and …” I stare down at my cup. “I thought you could’ve used it as an excuse. To stop”—I wave my finger between us—“this. I think I was looking for you to take the out, and I didn’t want to deal with that, so I … didn’t. I was going to come back here and sleep it off, but then Ayri caught up to me, and he looked like a sad little puppy dog.”
Anton rounds the kitchen counter and presses himself against me. “Just so you know, I was never going to take the out, and deep down, I know you were trying to push me away last night, and maybe I should’ve stood my ground and fought for you, but I was terrified it was more than that—that you were actually done with me. I wasn’t ready to hear that, so I left. Then I changed my mind and drove to your apartment, only to see you on the street with Ayri.”
“Is that why you’re over here so early? To make sure we weren’t fucking?”
“No. I came over this early because I haven’t slept.” Anton runs his hand over his hair. “But when I saw him here …”
“He slept on the couch. I slept on the other. And by slept, I mean we passed out. It was literally hours of talking about our boyfriends, saying how relationships are hard, and basically bitching you and Chandler’s name out all night.”
“Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better—wait, boyfriend?”
I take a deep breath. “Well, yeah. That’s what I kind of realized. If you take the superstition out of our relationship, supposedly we don’t have one. But last night while Ayri was crying over his ex, I realized I didn’t want that to be us. We may not have said we’re together officially, but … we’re together, aren’t we? At least, I want to be. And that’s scary in its own right because I’ve never done the relationship thing before. But I’ve also never tried. I’d never done the monogamous thing before you, and it’s surprisingly easy because … you’re the only one I want to be with.”
“Really?” Anton’s voice is a rasp.
“Then we won’t have to keep up this ruse that it’s good for team—”
“Something I have never believed, by the way.”
“I know, but maybe … maybe this means we can start being real with each other?”
“Real how?”
I swallow hard because I don’t want to say this next part. “I’m falling for you.”
Anton sucks in a short gasp. I can’t tell if it’s genuine or sarcastic.
“I broke you,” he says.
Sarcastic it is.
I throw my hands up. “This is why I’ve never told someone that before. Because it encourages mockery.”
“Aww, baby.” Anton pulls me closer, wrapping me in his arms. “I think I’m falling for you too.”
“You think? You … think? I’m gonna have to work on that.”
“No, I know it. I just can’t trust this is actually happening yet.”
“It’s happening. We’re being real with each other, remember?”
“Okay, so we’re together. What does that mean? Do you expect me to come out or—”
I shake my head. “Never if you don’t want to. Do I think it would be easier than sneaking around? Sure, but you’re worth pretending I’m a secret spy doing secret spy stuff.”
He pats my shoulder. “You’re a real James Bond.”
“James isn’t even a real name. It should be Jame. Because they’re only one Jame.”
Anton sighs. “It’s scary how your brain works sometimes.”
“I didn’t make it up. I saw it on a meme, but thank you.”
“Wasn’t paying you a compliment.”
“Yes you were because we’re together now. You have to love everything I do from this moment on.”
“Never going to happen.”
Mm, we’ll see. “Stay for coffee and hungover sex?”
“I don’t really want to be puked all over during sex, so I’m going to pass on that. But I’ll stay for coffee.”
“In an official relationship for thirty seconds and the sex stops. I knew it would happen, but I don’t think it’s supposed to happen this fast.”