Page 34

Tommy

I’m not sure what got into me. Maybe the hug. I was so angsty after we’d walked back to the apartment, ready to make excuses, when he stopped me, then… well, that hug. I felt like I’d come home after years of being away.

I’d worried about Amos’s career. I guess I always had. I brought it up because I wasn’t ready for all the emotions. I thought volunteering with the high school team would help, but something about how Amos acted made me think maybe he wasn’t ready to go back to football.

I had often thought about Amos and how easily he could become a famous movie star. He had the skills and the charisma. Hell, he seemed made for the camera. Even on the field, he glowed despite being buried under all the protective gear.

The audience loved him too. Even after all the bullshit had hit the fan, the fact that everyone was talking about him made it clear to anyone with an ounce of foresight that he was someone beloved by vast numbers of fans.

I sat in the back seat of his brother’s car when he showed up to take me to mine. Amos was as animated as he’d ever been. In some ways, hanging with his brother, enjoying listening to them argue and banter, felt like we’d never been apart— like we were still college buddies.

I looked down at my hands as the wave of emotions washed over me. But we weren’t the same and never would be the same again. We’d had sex… well, sorta, although even as little as we’d done, even though we’d both been drunk, I thought of what we’d done as us making love. Because love him, I had… still fucking did.

It figured the one night I’d finally decided to be done with him, put him out of my life, and let someone else in, he showed up and derailed me. “Fucking Amos.”

“Huh?”

he said and turned toward me.

“Oh, just thinking about, you know.”

I had to think fast. What rhymes with fucking? Sucking. God, no! “Ducking,”

I blurted. “I was thinking of when you ducked under Peter Farnsworth’s arm and made that touchdown. It was epic.”

Amos glowed. Jeez, that ego. I glanced over at the mirror and saw Josiah smirking at me. Well, fucking A, Josiah always did seem to understand me more than I liked.

Thank God, we pulled up at the bar, and I made a very quick exit, thanking Josiah for the ride and waving bashfully at Amos. As much as I loved being in Amos’s arms, as much as I desperately wanted to be there again, I needed to keep the boundaries up between Amos and me. I hadn’t given him my new phone number and was happy he hadn’t asked. I’d need to text Owen to let him know not to give it to him.

I slipped into the driver’s seat, fastened the seat belt, put my hands on the steering wheel, and wondered if I really wanted Owen to keep my number from Amos. What if—?

“No!”

I said to the empty car. “No, someone stop me before I go back down this track again.”

I started the car, grabbed my phone, and texted Owen.

Me: Dude, do NOT give my number to Amos.

I pressed Send.

Owen: You’re as much of a dumbass as him.

He texted back, but then didn’t text anything else. Yeah, maybe I was, maybe we both were, but Amos was still my kryptonite, and I needed to get off the train now before it derailed… again.