Page 38 of Actions and Reactions (All It Takes #5)

Silas

It feels like I’m re-entering the planet after being away for way longer than three months when I get into the car my parents rented and we drive to the airport.

I’ve been doing so well the last two weeks since our talk with Dave that my parents don’t look nearly as worried when they drop Annie and me off at the airport.

The whole thing with Annie moved faster than anything I’ve ever seen.

Dr. Conway assured me that Annie’s attachment to me wasn’t in any way hurting her, and that our friendship was genuine and helping her. I still feel like at any moment something I say or do could trigger her, but Annie says that knowing I’m gay is very helpful to her.

I’m happy about that? I think?

I talked through every concern I had with Annie in Dr. Conway’s office, especially about the fact that I work for a hockey team—a male hockey team—and Annie assured me she’d tell me if something made her uncomfortable or triggered her.

In any case, I really don’t want Annie to have to go back to that college where they didn’t treat her as well as they should’ve, or back to her parents’ house where she would’ve had an even worse time, so I agreed.

The next day Mom assured me she’d gotten all of Annie’s stuff from her dorm and that Dad had been all too instrumental in her quest—those were her exact words, and I don’t want to find out what he said or did.

Mom and Dad are staying a few more days in Chicago, though I suspect that’s only so they don’t have to fly down with us. We’ve worked through a lot of what our relationship will look like in the future, and the one thing I want for them more than anything is to focus less on me.

Annie is as tired as I am when we walk into my apartment, and she’s trying hard to keep her impressed face to herself, but I don’t mention it and instead show her the guest bedroom, then we turn in for the night.

I’m wide awake at seven and have to stop myself from running out of the apartment to finally go see Vinny. I want to be here when Annie wakes up to show her around the place, give her a damn key in case she wants to go out ...

But when she comes out, she rolls her eyes at me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” I defend myself.

“I’m not a kid, Silas, just go talk to Vinny already. ”

“Okay, okay.” I hand her the key, point to the coffee machine and then at the door. “Here’s everything you need. You can text me if I missed anything. Your boxes are supposed to get here later, so let me know when the doorman calls, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, see you later.”

I’m out the door and in my car in less than five minutes, but when I’m standing in front of Vinny’s door, I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say and I freeze with my hand raised to knock.

I want to know if he still loves me, if he still believes in us. I want to tell him I do, on both counts.

I want to tell him about my time at New Hope, about Annie, Colin, Consuelo, and of course Dave.

But how do I even begin?

A simple “hi” isn’t good enough, I know that, but that’s all I’ve got.

I groan and lower my hand.

Fuck, the last time I was here I broke said hand into a million little pieces then did the same to his heart, so how?—

“Are you going to knock?” I hear Aunt Lyla’s voice from the other side and a smile stretches my lips automatically.

“I was getting to it.”

The door opens and there she is.

“Yeah, right.” She calls me on my bullshit and I gotta respect that. Especially because she pulls me right in for a hug after, and sways us from side to side. “You look good, honey. ”

“I feel good, Aunt Lyla.”

“Good.” She pulls back, holds onto my arms while she stares at me, then nods back. “He’s still sleeping, but you can come in. I’m going to go look for an adult to have an adult conversation with.”

I think I should be offended by that, but instead I bark out a laugh. She grabs her bag from the entrance table and walks around me.

“Wait, Aunt Lyla,” I call out. “Where’s your security?” She can’t just go out alone in Vegas, that would be insane.

“Oh, relax.” Again she rolls her eyes at me, but she keeps walking backward. “They’re just one floor below.” Then she gives a dainty wave and turns around.

I walk hesitantly into the apartment, then shake my head at myself. I move faster, close the door, spare the stupid concrete wall—that’s intact of course—a glance, and walk down the hallway.

He’s sleeping, just like Lyla said, so I make sure not to make a single noise as I toe off my shoes and walk over to the empty side of his bed.

He looks so damn cute, with his mouth slightly open and breathing loudly.

I climb in beside him and stretch my legs, then roll to my side so I can keep staring at him.

I want to wake him up so I can kiss him, hug him, talk to him, but I stay still and just watch, for who knows how long.

Until he shifts a little, then a little more.

I see him caress his duvet as if it’s precious, and when a small smile appears, I know he’s thinking about how much he loves his bed. He really loves his bed.

I watch his facial expressions change for a little while until I can’t take it anymore.

“I know you’re awake.”

I don’t know how I forgot how fast he can move, but I have to smile when he scans me from my feet up to my eyes, always the tactician. Then he throws himself over me and buries his face in my neck.

“You’re here. You’re actually here,” he whispers against my neck. I feel his body tremble, and that has me returning the hug.

“I’m right here,” I agree.

He worms an arm under me and squeezes me tight enough to make it hard to breathe, but that’s okay. I don’t mind, not at all.

“I missed you so much, Vinny.”

“Me too, Si. So fucking much. Every day.” Then, just as fast as he came at me, he pulls back and looms over me with wide, panicked eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk about the letter over text, but—” I stop his frantic words with a finger over his lips.

“It’s fine, Vinny, breathe.” He does breathe and I lower my hand and have to sigh. “And okay, I was very nervous for a while there because I had no clue what that response meant, if it was good or bad or what, but I get it.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

It seems like time stops for a moment. I don’t breathe and I don’t think he does either, but then it’s like we’re unfrozen, and he lies back down ridiculously, and cuddles up to me and rests his head on my shoulder.

His feet end up hanging off the end of the bed, since he’s substantially taller than me, but I don’t care. I wrap my arm around him and bring him close so we’re face to face.

“I don’t regret sending you the letter,” I tell him, somewhat hesitantly. I have no clue if what I’m about to say is going to piss him off. “I know it wasn’t ideal, but I was scared I was going to put it off forever and never say it if I didn’t say it then.”

“I guess I can understand that,” he says quietly, but shuffles close enough that our chests are fused together. I feel him shift and know he’s looking up at me. I know how close our lips will be if I look down at him, and the anticipation has butterflies going wild in my belly.

I’ve been waiting so long for this, and I have no idea what he wants, what’s going to happen, but I can’t hold back.

I look down and his green eyes are filled with the love I wouldn’t let myself see before. It feels like what I imagine winning the Stanley Cup would feel like.

“Vinny,” I whisper, and as if we’re magnets, I feel a pull I can’t resist and begin to lean in.

“Wait!” he shouts, and then my arms are empty and he’s rushing to the bathroom.

I hear the faucet turn on, and again I have to smile. He’s brushing his teeth to kiss me.

He’s so cute .

I’m on my back when he returns a few minutes later, and again he throws himself at me.

“Oof,” I grunt. He really just fell that time. “You’re gonna knock the breath?—”

His lips on mine are the best interruption ever. A deep, long kiss that turns teasing when he traps my lower lip between both of his and pulls a little. It turns heated when he bites it, then he soothes the sting with his tongue.

I give it right back, taking advantage of his parted lips to stroke his tongue with mine.

I cover his back with my hands and want him closer, a lot closer, but this isn’t the time, not yet.

For now I just enjoy the fact that he still wants to kiss me, that I have him in my arms, and that this time we’re finally on the same page.

“So what time do you have to leave?” I ask between bites of pancakes his chef left for him. Lyla isn’t back so we decided to go ahead and eat without her.

“Practice is late today, so after lunch.” He doesn’t even look up to tell me, and this time the reminder of how much he eats because he’s a professional hockey player isn’t grating on me.

I just find it adorable if I’m honest. I remember being that hungry, and all I want right now is to make sure he has what he needs, so I give him my third pancake and he eats that too.

“And what’s your mom doing here?” I think that’s an innocent enough question to get the conversation started. All we’ve talked about till this point really is food.

“She’s been staying here whenever we’re home since you left.” This time I know he’s not looking at me because he’s hesitant and not because he’s so engrossed in his food. “Gab called her,” he adds, voice lower. And then lower still, “The day you had your surgery.”

“Oh, wow.” I don’t know what to say to that.

“She just said I needed my mom cause I’m still a kid, and so she called her.”

“I needed my mom too,” I admit. “Even if I didn’t know it.”

“Yeah.” He sighs heavily and then looks up at me finally. “I love you, Si. I don’t ever want to have to hold that back again.”

I reach for his hand and bring it over to my leg.

“I don’t ever want you to stop saying it, Vinny.

” I see the relief in those brilliantly green eyes, and though it does make me feel like shit, it also reminds me that I know him.

All of him. “I know you’re impatient, and impulsive, amd I like those things about you because I know what to expect from you. ”

“I also know you, Si. But the way you were before...” He trails off, and then he pulls his hand away, stands, and begins to pace in front of the stools.

“I thought, well, it’s been so long since we’ve hung out, maybe he’s just changed a lot, you know?

But I knew something wasn’t right and I did nothing.

I know theres no real way for me to have known, but I was so busy trying not to push you away that I didn’t take care of you properly.

” He stops and faces me dead on. “That’s never happening again, Si. ”

“I don’t want you to be watching over me all the time, though.” I stand too and go to him, then I reach up to rest my hands on his shoulders and shake him a little. “I want us to take care of each other, Vinny.”

His hands go to my waist and I move closer instinctively.

“I want that too,” he murmurs.

I get lost in his eyes again, the butterflies dancing around like little demons, so I take a step back and breathe deeply.

“We need to talk before...” I wave around at the space between us, it’s pretty self-explanatory.

“Yeah.” He rubs a hand over his head. “Okay, so I love you?—”

“And I love you.”

His smile is so instant and boyish that I have to smile back.

“I really like hearing you say that.”

“Then I can say it again.”

“Soon,” he mutters, then shakes his head. “But what do we do now? Like relationship-wise? I don’t want us to start avoiding shit again, and I have no idea what you’ve been through the last three months. Are you going to work at the Pirates? Do I have to stop talking about hockey altogether?”

His chest heaves with agitated breaths and I need to make it better for him. All of it.

“I’m still going to work for the Pirates.

” That’s the first thing I need to tell him, to reassure him.

“I don’t want you to ever avoid talking about hockey around me.

I do need to tell you about my time at New Hope and about some things my therapist helped me with, but for now let me say this.

” I move in again and take his hands. “I’m going to keep going to therapy.

I know what my triggers are now. I understand my trauma now.

I will do everything in my power to show you every day how much I don’t hate you, especially not for being a hockey player, and I will force myself to talk a lot more about how I’m feeling.

I know that’s the one thing that’ll make both our lives easier, and in return I want you to go back to being the guy who would tell me every single genius, idiotic, and psychotic thought that passes through his head. Deal?”

“Yes.” He breathes out the word. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Bullseye.”

I’d smile at him calling me by my old nickname, but he wraps one arm around my waist and dips me back to kiss the breath out of me as if we’re in a movie.

And I’ll never complain about that.