the dough he’d prepared inside it. He’d thrown on a tee to keep from getting burned by any stray pops of oil. As he kept busy with his task, I pan-fried chicken on a skillet beside him. Our primary goal seemed to be evading the truth as we embraced the sound of the cracking juices on our skillets until we had our meal ready and were sitting adjacent to each other at my table.
“Try the tortilla by itself first,” he said. “I want you to marvel at my skills.”
I laughed, shaking my head as he rested his foot against mine, rubbing gently as I cut one and bit into it.
Damn, of course he could make a tortilla.
He eyed me as though waiting for the compliment he was sure would follow. “I don’t see why I have to say anything. You already know they’re good.”
“Maybe you could do wonders for my self-esteem if you copped to it.”
“Since when did you start running low on self-esteem?”
“Since you tasted my tortilla and didn’t lose your fucking mind.”
As he always managed to do, he got me laughing.
“Fine,” he said, annoyed. “I’m going to take these away and get you some from the fridge.”
He took my plate like he was going to snatch it from me, but I seized it and confessed. “No, no. These might very easily be the best tortillas I’ve ever had. You are some kind of tortilla god. Is that what you want to hear?”
He smirked but then frowned. “Now I’m a little disappointed I haven’t been called a god in other areas yet.”
“Trust me, Kyle, you’re a god in any area I’ve seen…and felt.”
“And I can’t wait to show you the god I am in even more areas.” He winked, taking another bite of his fajita, grabbing the tortilla with his hand and shoving it right into his mouth as I cut a slice of mine. He had a thick chunk of meat in his mouth when he said, “So…”
By the tone of his voice and the awkwardness in how he dragged it out, I didn’t have to be psychic to know what he meant. And for some reason, I didn’t feel like he was about to spit out a joke like he usually would have.
I just threw it out there: “Is this the part where we have that awkward conversation where we figure out what the hell we’re going to do about this?”
It took him a minute to finish chewing and swallowing. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Well, we would have gotten there sooner or later.” As we sat there, facing off against the fears that had been mounting since the night before, I decided it was best to be honest. “I keep running through all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. I see the consequences, and I see the worst like it’s a premonition.”
I teared up as I spoke the words because of how it all haunted me in the moment. It was strange how we could go from having such a good time to everything bubbling up at once, to the point where it was fucking overwhelming.
He pushed out of his seat and approached me, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I know, James. I see it too.”
“I don’t want to ruin my life,” I spat out, turning my gaze to him. I could see the fear in his eyes, but I was quick to help soothe it with the truth: “But I don’t want to lose this either.”
He pulled me into his chest, and tears rushed from my eyes.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I muttered.
“I know, James,” he iterated.
If only I’d never fallen that first day. If only I’d never assigned extra credit…or been nearly mugged. If only I’d never mentioned H4H to him. But no matter how many times I told myself I would have been better off never having had those experiences, what the hell was the point to a life where I never knew Kyle Forsythe?
“Trust me,” he went on, “this was the last place I ever thought any of this would lead. But you don’t have to figure it out by yourself.” He kissed my forehead. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the sensation of sweet relief as it moved through me.
He moved down, kissing my right eye, then my left.
I took a breath and pulled back, looking into his sincere gaze.
It startled me how familiar that side of him had become to me, snuck up on me. At the beginning