This Time, I Choose It

“That was a better answer,” I said.

“I've been practising in my head.”

“Don't tell me how much. It'll go to mine.”

He smiled, but he didn't move closer. His thumb rested against the side of my hand.

I liked that he could wait now. I liked, even more, that I didn't have to.

I put my free hand against his jaw and kissed him.

For a moment, it was gentle. His mouth softened beneath mine, and the little breath he let out made me step closer. He touched my waist over my T-shirt, paused until I leaned into him, then held me.

Eight months of imagined conversations were suddenly useless. He was warm. His hair curled against my fingers. When I pulled back, he followed only far enough to rest his forehead against mine.

“Hi,” he whispered.

I laughed. “That's what you've got?”

“I had a speech.”

“Terrible timing to forget it.”

“I'll send it in writing.”

I kissed him again for that, and he laughed against my mouth.

We sat on the edge of my bed afterwards. I kept his hand because giving it back seemed unnecessary.

“I don't want to spend the season pretending this is something casual if it isn't,” I said.

“It isn't for me.”

“Me neither.”

He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.

“I want to date you. Properly. Dinner somewhere that doesn't have a team nutrition sheet. Spending time together because we want to, not because Reed's marked it on a board.”

“And terrible music?”

“That may be part of the package.”

“I'll have my agent negotiate.”

His smile faded into something more serious.

“About people knowing—”

“I'd like something that's ours for a little while,” I said. “I don't want to learn how to be with you while everyone watches.”

He nodded. “I'd like that, too.”

“But private doesn't mean you decide I'm embarrassing.”

“You aren't.”

“And if one of us changes his mind about what we're comfortable with, we talk.”

“We talk.”

I believed him enough to keep going. Trust, it turned out, didn't arrive with a certificate. Sometimes it was just the next small choice.

Rafa glanced at the clock.

“We should sleep.”

“How romantic.”

“There's a match tomorrow.”

“I'm aware. I was hoping my new boyfriend might kiss me before citing the schedule.”

His face went completely still.

I felt my ears warm.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Costa.”

He turned towards me, smiling now in a way that made the whole room ridiculous.

“I like hearing that.”

“Schedule?”

“Owen.”

I leaned into his side. “Boyfriend.”

He kissed my cheek, then my mouth, and I stopped pretending I didn't like saying it.

We slept in our own beds. This was partly professionalism and partly because we'd both spent several minutes discussing how neither of us slept well sharing a narrow mattress, which was an impressively practical conversation to have while holding hands.

Before he switched off his lamp, Rafa said, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

A minute later my phone vibrated.

COSTA: Goodnight, boyfriend.

I could hear his quiet laugh from the other bed.

ME: You've just said that.

COSTA: This one is private.

I put the phone against my chest and stared at the dark ceiling, smiling like someone who'd suffered a serious head injury.

In the morning, I made it through breakfast without embarrassing myself until Rafa reached past me for the coffee.

“You haven't eaten,” I said.

“I was getting this first.”

“You'll have a stomach full of coffee and complain at eleven.” I pushed the toast towards him. “I'm being an excellent boyfriend. Try to appreciate it.”

He stopped with the pot in his hand.

“Say that again.”

“That you complain?”

“The other part.”

Across the room, Ben called for someone to pass the jam. I used the noise to lean closer.

“Boyfriend,” I said quietly. “Now eat your toast.”

He did as he was told, looking more pleased than anyone had a right to be over bread.

We played an hour together that afternoon. Nothing spectacular happened. We made useful runs, missed opportunities, got shouted at by Reed, and came off sweating in the late summer heat.

On the bench, Rafa handed me a bottle before taking his own.

His little finger brushed mine behind the cool box.

I hooked it for a second.

No camera turned. No one shouted. The world continued its ordinary business while something in mine quietly changed.