Chapter 10
TEN
COLTON
Thank God the food arrived. I didn’t want to talk about the help center anymore. I’d call when I was good and ready. After setting the bag on the dinette, I took the containers out. “Do we need plates, or are you okay eating from the container?” Why dirty plates if we didn’t have to?
“Containers.” Travis slid drawers out in my kitchen. “Where’s the silverware?”
“On the end. I always put it closest to the table.” Yeah, I had reasons for how I organized my kitchen. I sat in a chair and opened one container.
“Oh.” With a smirk, he grabbed two forks, ripped off some paper towels from the holder on the counter and then joined me at the dinette, falling into the chair next to mine.
“Looks delicious.” Handing me a fork, he said, “Oh, our drinks.” He bounded to the coffee table and then brought our drinks to the dinette.
“So, I have a bye-week this week.” He twisted his fork in his noodles.
“Yeah? Does that mean you have the entire weekend off?” My heart pattered. Could I spend the weekend with him? But it might be too much too fast.
“I still need to hit the gym, but yes, basically.” He eyed me. “Does Evan have a home game we could attend? Did you talk to him about it?”
Shit, I’d forgotten when we were out last weekend.
“No, not yet. But I’m sure he would give us tickets.
” Where was my damn phone? I turned, spying it on the coffee table.
“Let me check.” I strode to the coffee table, grabbed my phone, and then stepped back, opening my browser to check his schedule.
“We’re in luck. He has a game on Saturday night at the Scottsdale Convention Center against Salt Lake City. ”
After chewing a forkful of noodles, he said, “Great, that’s near here.” He sipped his Gatorade. “What time is it?”
“Seven.” I set my phone next to my plate and ate some food. The noodles and chicken perfectly combined sweet with spicy.
“How about dinner in Scottsdale before the game?” With a warm grin, he set his fork in his food.
This sounded more like a date. Could we keep it friendly while we were out in public? No one would know us there, so it might not matter. “Yeah, sure.” I stuffed noodles and chicken into my mouth.
“Good, I’ll make some reservations…maybe Olive and Ivy? I’ve heard it’s a pleasant spot.” He drank more Gatorade.
Wasn’t that a fancier place? This definitely sounded like a date.
“Sure.” I picked my phone up and opened my text app.
“I’ll make sure Evan can get us tickets.
But he doesn’t have anyone else to give them to as far as I know.
” Unless he’d already given them to the women we’d met last weekend.
Shit. We could buy tickets, but they wouldn’t be as good as what Evan could give us.
Colton
Hey, I wanted to come to your game with Travis this Saturday. Can you get us tickets?
The three dots blinked at me.
Evan
Sure. Got a hot date with the football player?
I scoffed a laugh. Of course, he’d go there.
“What?” Travis leaned in and pushed on my hand, tilting my phone’s screen toward him. As a grin swept his lips, he said, “Tell him yes.”
“It’s not a date, Travis. We’re not dating.” My heart hurt a little. That was a rude thing to say. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean. It’s not a public date.
We’ll keep it friendly while we’re out. But everything else about that night will be me taking you on a date.
We’ll know it’s a date, but no one else.
Does that work?” He squeezed my wrist, and lines formed between his brows.
“You said you didn’t want to see anyone else, and we like each other. ”
My heart battered against my rib cage. Was I ready for this? It was one thing to have hookups in secret, but outwardly calling our time together dates? It meant so much more. I croaked, “Yeah, okay.” I had to be real with myself. He was right.
“Good.” With a quick exhale, he straightened. “Get those tickets from Evan and I’ll make dinner reservations.”
I stared at my phone. I’d just agreed to my first date with a guy. Travis, no less.
“Are you okay?” Leaning toward me, he cupped my cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on my lips. “Colton, talk to me.”
My gaze darted between his stunning blue eyes, framed by blond hair. “Yes, I’m okay. I just needed a moment to process this.” I tapped on the screen. Evan knew we’d hooked up, so he might as well know the rest.
Colton
Yes. Do we pick up the tickets at the venue?
Evan
Good for you, Colton! Yes, just give them your name at the ticket office and you’re in. I’m so happy for you.
Colton
Thanks. Don’t tell anyone.
Evan
Who the hell would I tell?
Colton
Thanks.
With a long sigh, I picked up my fork and shoveled it into my food. “Okay, looks like we have tickets.”
“This’ll be so much fun, Colton.” He patted my shoulder and ate his dinner.
I should call the help center before Travis got here. It was Thursday, and I had half an hour before he’d be here for his tutoring session. Okay, hookup or whatever we were calling it now. I knew he’d ask me about this again.
With a scowl, I pulled up the website on my laptop as I sat on my couch, my pulse beating into my throat. Why was this so hard for me? It was only a phone call. I punched in the number and held my finger over the call button. What would I say? Just tell them I’m queer and I need a therapist.
I hit the button and set the phone on speaker. It rang a few times and picked up.
“ASU LGBTQ Help Center. What can I do for you?”
Stabbing the end call button, I dropped my phone and scrubbed my face.
With a growl, I said, “Fuck.” What if the therapist wanted to rehash my mother’s death?
I might return to that horrible place, and dating Travis…
I could spiral and start drinking heavily again.
Or worse. But I didn’t know how to get painkillers.
But then there was a weed dispensary close by. Hell, that wasn’t the same.
I took a few calming breaths and then reentered the number and stared at it.
I should think this through. My relationship with Travis wasn’t problematic at the moment, right?
Did I really need this? I gritted my teeth.
But I didn’t want to call our date on Saturday a date.
I was forcing him to be friendly in public, even while being in a place where no one knew us. My head was so confused.
Closing my laptop, I set my phone on the cushion next to me while I ruminated on things.
I had several reasons I hadn’t wanted to be with Travis.
First, I was his tutor, and I could lose my job, a job I loved.
Second, my father would not approve, and even though he was an ass, I didn’t want to lose my last remaining parent.
Third…well, third was my fear of being triggered and losing control.
I’d done a good job of keeping that at bay.
I glanced toward my kitchen. But organizing the hell out of my apartment when Travis hadn’t been here might be a sign, along with decluttering to the point of only having the essentials left.
As my throat tightened, I set my laptop on the coffee table.
How could those things be bad though? I was just a neat person.
I glanced at my phone and then picked it up, noting the time. Now Travis would arrive in fifteen minutes. I had to call and say something. Then at least I could tell him I called and not lie to him.
I dialed the number and set it on speaker.
After a few rings, a woman said, “ASU LGBTQ Help Center. Can I help you?”
“Yes, um…” I cleared my throat. “I’m a student at ASU. A queer student.” My nerves frayed and my hands trembled. I couldn’t do this, damn it.
“Well, you’re in the right place then. What sort of services are you looking for? We have clubs, support groups, therapy referrals—”
“I need a therapist.” I swallowed a lump forming in my throat as my vision grew blurry. What the hell? Why did this make me emotional?
“Sure. Are you in danger? Either by someone else or yourself?” she asked.
Danger? Like, was she asking me if I was about to hurt myself? “N-no, I’m not. I’m just looking for a therapist referral. Someone who’s familiar with…” I couldn’t say it because I didn’t know. “With parents who aren’t understanding.” Okay, that was an easy one. Surely, they got a lot of that.
“Of course. We also have support groups for that. If you give me your ASU email, I can send along a list of therapists for you to check out, along with information on support groups. Can I ask, do you know about PFLAG?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.” I wasn’t sure from where, though. Maybe a television show? My mouth went dry. I had to give her my ASU email address? Then she’d know my name. “Everything here is confidential, right?”
“Of course,” she said. “I can send you information on PFLAG as well. Where do your parents live? If they’re open to getting help, it’s a great resource for them,” she said.
“I…” Fuck, I wasn’t about to come out to my dad anytime. This was overkill. All I needed was some therapy referrals. “Sure.” I clenched my free hand into a fist on my thigh.
“Okay, give me your email address and the city your parents live in, and I should have the information to you in the next half hour.”
I gave her the information, and as the call ended, knocking sounded at my door. “Fuck, Tex.” I threw my phone onto the coffee table. Why had I called him Tex just now? With my hands still trembling, I stood and shuffled to my door. I had to pull myself together. I’d only made a damn phone call.
The knocking came again.
I swung the door open as a lump climbed my throat, and my breath hitched. Fuck, I was losing it.
“Colton?” Tex tossed his backpack to the floor and wrapped me in a tight embrace. “Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” He kissed my head. “Talk to me, please.”