He's already asked me that, and I've already answered, but there's another question if I listen closely, and I squeeze his hand when I respond again.
"We've got one more year left. Do you still want to wait?"
"We're back to that morning," Jamie says. "When we admitted we wanted everything, everywhere."
"But back then, I didn't understand why it was going to be so hard for you. Now I know who you are, and I may not be familiar with your fame, but I’ve heard all the slurs before. I know how headlines work. Those problems won’t be solved by Harper's graduation. That'll only letmeoff the hook."
Jamie snorts. "No, it won't. Everyone will be all over you and the boring life you love. Fame by proxy."
"What if I love something else more? Someone else?"
I'm looking at him when he swallows, slow to make eye contact with me, even in the dark. He doesn't pull away, but I wonder if that's because he doesn't know where he'd go. We need to talk, and escaping to his gorgeous house won't take care of that problem unless he wants to bring me with him.
It might be less intimate than this bench, but our words are better drowned down here.
"Do you? Is that even possible?"
"Whether it was possible that first night was a fair question, but now? Of course it's possible. I don't need to have slept with you to know how I feel about you." I pause and comb my hair back from my face, a pointless act when the wind insists on knocking it loose. "But if you're asking, I guess that answers the question of how you feel aboutme."
"It answers nothing, and I hate that you think it does."
I drop my head back and stare at the sky for a few seconds, just toclear my head. "There will be people who support you, too. It won't all be bad, right?"
"Sure."
"Do you still have an agent?"
"Nah. When I couldn't play, and all my endorsement deals ended, there wasn't—I didn't really need an advocate, right?" There's a pause, but I know Jamie wants that question to be rhetorical, and I fight myself to let it go. "I've got an attorney who can look at paperwork when I need her to."
"But your fans. And your team."
"I don'thavea team," Jamie snaps, frustrated by a loss he's mourned for years, and finally taking his hand away from mine. "And I don't know. There are Pride nights, and more than one player has spoken up to support those, but the actual fallout of Jameson Sinclair being a confirmed bisexual? Which, of course, people won't say—"
"You'll be gay to them, and the Melanie Bishops of the world will weep."
"Exactly. So, there will be a frenzy about that, no matter how long it's been since I was in a locker room. Questions about teammates and secret apps and who knew about me and who else might be gay. Digging into any inappropriate thing I ever said or did. What lines I crossed. Will I still be invited to signings? Eh, probably? Whatever the reason for it, I'd continue to draw a crowd for a while. Being a guest commentator? It'll come down to the money I make them or cost them. The press will be reliably terrible to me, except for a few more reputable journalists who have always been kind. The league? They’ll remain officially uninvolved in the private life of a former player who hasn’t done a little dance for them in years."
I sigh. "Without a team—without a contractual obligation and the ties either side would risk severing—you'll be in the middle of apublic tug of war. Stuck between the fans and teammates who stand by you, and those who love your name but will only use it until they want to distance themselves from it."
"IwishI had that obligation, though. Fuck, I just want to be in the middle of it again. I want the sounds and smells and love and hate and achoiceabout losing it all. I never had a choice."
My stomach winds itself into an ugly little knot when his voice breaks, my blood running cold in a way that has nothing to do with a late night at the beach. It hits me hard that the night I last saw him play—the worst night of his life—is the only reason I'm sitting next to him now. Without that injury, he would've been preparing for the season instead of drinking at Kai's. His appearance at Harper's back-to-school night might've been possible that September, but a relationship with me? All the wanting and waiting we've shared for the past three years?
Jamie would've had his choice back then.
And it wouldn't have been me.
I almost say so out loud, but I choke on it, and wonder whether I could risk everything right now for the chance to have a single night in his bed, rules be damned. It already feels like I'll regret staying where I am.
"One year to go," I start, clearing my throat and seeking a middle ground. "And if we're doing this, I don't want to hold back anymore. Not if it's only about protecting ourselves from feeling too much. I want to hold you, and you want the truth."
"Like the day you came over to tell me you were leaving for the summer."
"That night, too."
"You want more of those."
"Yes."