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He smiles and blushes, dropping his eyes.
“How was your day?” he asks, putting his violin case down.
“Good, come and sit with me.”
He takes a seat next to me on the couch and I have to restrain myself from pulling him into my lap. I contend myself with a hand on his thigh instead.
“Coach said I should be back for the Harvard game, so I’ve still got a chance of helping us get to the play-offs.”
“That’s really good.” He nods. But he doesn’t look like he means it.
“Hey, you still worried about me getting hurt?”
“Yes.” He nods. Not even trying to hide it.
I can’t contain myself any longer, I have to lean over and kiss him. He closes his eyes as I get close, fair lashes fluttering over his cheeks.
“How wasyourday?”
“Good. I have a big performance in the city next week and I’m kinda bricking it.”
“You’ll be great. Can I come?”
“If you want, but you don’t have to, it’ll probably be boring, and it might overlap with your schedule.”
“Will you be playing your violin?”
“Yes.”
“Then it won’t be boring.”
“My parents are gonna be there.”
His breathing’s changed. Become shallower and uneven.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” I say, putting my hand on his face to try and steady his nerves. He rests against it and closes his eyes, his breathing calming down a little.
“Can I take your mind off it?”
His eyes fly open. “No, no sex until your concussion’s better.”
“Who said anything about sex? You have a one-track mind.”
I love seeing that blush spreading up his neck to his cheeks.
“Oh.”
“I was thinking a house flipping show.”
“No screens.”
“Do you wanna listen to an audiobook with me then? I was just halfway through Gretzky’s biography.”
“I have a better idea.”
He stands up, crossing the room to get his violin.
“You sure you wanna play it right now? Isn’t that what’s stressing you out?”