Page 69 of Off the Edge

“I should uh . . .” He uncurled from my lap, and flashed a quick, embarrassed smile, then clambered off. “I gotta let my dad know I’m okay.” He patted his pockets and spun. “Where’s my phone?”

I got to my feet, wincing at sore muscles, and spied the phone on the bed, under his shirts. I picked it up and handed it over.

“Thanks.” Our fingers brushed. “They don’t really do texts, but I can’t talk to them or I’ll fall apart again.”

“I’m sure a text will be fine.”

He looked up. “Yeah.”

Some color was coming back into his face. Not a lot, but enough to know that he was going to be alright.

He rapidly tapped out a message, then set the phone down on the side and stared at the chaos on his bed. His shoulders fell. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“I have to. I can’t dance, Ren. I have to go home. Saga’s parents, they’re . . . They’re not great. They uh . . . There’ll be things to organize. The dance studio . . .”

“Alright, then I’ll help you organize it all.” I picked up the nearest shirt, flicked it out, and began to fold. Then I folded a second, and stacked it on the first. I picked up a third, but he hadn’t moved. He stared through the bed.

I lowered the shirt.

He wasn’t in any condition to do anything. His mind and body were locked in shock.

“Perhaps think about it?” I suggested. “Give yourself tonight. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah. You’re right.”

I set the folded shirts to one side on the nearby shelf. Then, looking at the rest of the chaos, I began to tidy while Cam leaned against the table, chewing on his lip, watching me but not seeing me. I folded everything, put it all to one side, put his bags away, and when that was done, I made us both jasmine and hibiscus tea from the little complimentary sachets left for all the athletes.

I handed him his mug.

“Thanks. I’m sorry, again. I’m not thinking clearly.” He tried to smile and didn’t quite make it. His eyes were red rimmed and glassy still, close to tears again.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s fine, really.”

He took a sip. Then gasped, almost spilling his drink.

I reached out to steady him. “Too hot?”

“No, I just realized—the party. Shit, were you there?”

“I hadn’t made it yet.” I smiled to soften his panic.

“Damn.”

“It’s really quite alright, Cam. I was only going there to see you anyway.”

I probably shouldn’t have admitted it, but my guards were down, and I didn’t want to fight the feelings anymore. Fight anything. I wanted to be fully present, for him, for whatever he needed me for. Everything outside his apartment door was far, far away. None of that mattered. All that mattered right now was Cam, and keeping him safe.

“You were?”

I kept my smile, but looked at the now empty bed, not seeing it, just needing to look away. “I stayed to watch you dance this afternoon.”

That brought a smile to his face. “Yeah, I got your text. I thought you didn’t watch competitors?”

His tone had lifted a little with a sprinkling of his typical sassiness. “You were brilliant, Cam, truly.”

“Thank you. That means a lot . . . coming from you.”