Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(31)
“And the answer?” I don’t think I truly want to know this either.
“Guys in general. I’m … uh … I’m bi.”
More inexplicable disappointment.
It’s stupid and selfish of me to think any of this could be about me. That what’s between us is a one-off somehow. If it was just us, it’d give me reassurance that what I want with Miller is bigger than either of us and something out of our control. The thought of going out there and being with other guys doesn’t appeal to me, but maybe if I pushed myself—
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there,” Miller says.
On the small square on the screen where I can see myself, I notice the large frown lines across my forehead.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” I admit. “But it makes sense after you told me you’d thought about it—us—before. Although I don’t know why you didn’t think to come to me about it.”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “How do you think twenty-two-year-old Talon would’ve reacted to that?”
“Whoa, why do you say that like you think I was some kind of close-minded asshole back then?”
Miller runs his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“Are we really doing this now?” Miller’s reluctance makes me nervous.
“Yes.” My voice comes out growly.
“Until tonight, I’ve never said the words I’m bi out loud. I’ve known it for a long time, but I’ve never actually said it. The thought of saying it back then to anyone, let alone the straight guy I measured all my hookups against, made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Not to mention it was your first year in the NFL and you moved to the opposite side of the country.”
Damn.
Asshole of the year award goes to me.
“Seems like tonight’s the night for major revelations,” I murmur.
Miller cocks his head. “How so?”
“This whole thing, ever since moving to Chicago … is it too early to have a midlife crisis? I’m twenty-eight, for fuck’s sake.”
Miller laughs. “So, you’ve been wondering if your sudden attraction to men means you’re going crazy?”
“Well, not … crazy. I dunno. I moved to Chicago for you, and until I saw Jackson and Noah together, I never questioned my motivation behind it. Now I can’t think of anything but that. And I don’t know if this is an attraction to men or if it’s a … you thing. I don’t know what it means, I don’t know what we’re doing here, and I don’t know if …” I can’t say it.
“Don’t know what?”
“If after all is said and done, that this won’t dissolve and we not only screw up our friendship but also the team.”
Miller’s lips press together. “It’s an impossible situation. It’s putting everything on the line even thinking about it.”
Even though he’s right, and I’m scared shitless of all this being some … temporary insanity—not that being gay or bi or whatever should be equated to insanity—I’m wondering if I’ve missed Miller on a completely platonic level and somehow my screwed-up brain thinks this is the only way to hold onto him. Which is ridiculous, because if anything, this is going to push him away.
God, I hate my head right now.
“Shane?” I keep using his first name because I can’t help loving the way he looks at me when I do. Like he can’t believe I’m either being serious or looking at him differently from the rest of the team, who are all on last-name basis only.
He stares at me expectantly. “Yeah?”
“Why’d you call tonight?”
Miller sighs. “Pure jealousy.”
“Huh?”
“I was talking to this guy, Maddox, and he told me the story of how he and his boyfriend got together. It made me realize that if you didn’t explore with me, you might go to some other guy, and I can’t handle that even more than the thought of fucking everything up.”
I don’t know what that means for us or if I should be flattered or insulted. “Why?” I manage to get out.
“Because even though this is the worst idea in the history of ideas … it’s always been you. Those hookups in college might’ve shown me that I’m attracted to guys, but you’re the only one I’ve ever truly wanted.”
My eyes widen, and he backtracks.
“That’s probably too much pressure to put on you right now, but I don’t mean it in any other way than what I’ve said. I’m not going to push you or ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, and I have no expectations of a future.” He blows out a loud breath. “I wanted you to know you can use me. I’m at your disposal to help figure whatever’s going on in that head of yours.”
God, I want that. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more, but I’m still wary. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say softly.
“You never could.”
Even I can hear the doubt in his words, but that doesn’t stop me from going for this. Right now is a time to be selfless for once and put everything and everyone else first.
Instead, I find myself whispering, “Can we do this again?”