3 - Hello

I didn't know how to react. I knew precisely what Conor meant by 'saying Hello properly.'

When we had to separate three months ago, I couldn't wait for him to be in front of me again. But the closer we got to that point, the more I got the nervous feeling that I didn't know if I could be with him the same way we were that night. I mean, it only has been an hour! What if we were about to discover that it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing? Something that was just happening between friends? And we both read more into it than there truly was? Okay, when we FaceTimed, we both said we missed each other and wished we could be closer. But... what if the reality of being together in one room brought the realization that it was just wishful thinking?

I took a step closer to him, and he smiled at me lovingly. I took another step. It was almost as if my body wanted to torture me further by preventing me from going over there.

But I want to, so badly.

I shook my head.

I have to stop overthinking this. Walk over there. Kiss him. And then I'll know.

So I fastened my pace. And it helped that he moved toward me as well. I wrapped my arms around him. His hands moved to my back, holding me tight. I pushed my chin into his neck, and so did he. Conor smelled like a forest in spring. The warmth of his body was comforting.

"This feels nice," I whispered.

"You could have gotten a hug like this an hour ago."

"I'm sorry. I blanked when my stupid brother called you Green Beans. And... I don't know."

Bathing in his arms made me feel safe and, at the same time, afraid that this might not last forever. In spite of the fact that he had just arrived, there was already an end to this approaching.

Five days.

That's more than last time, yes. But it was nothing compared to all the days we spent together while he lived here.

In only five days, he has to return to his parents, school, and everyday life because spring break will be over.

I have to get this right. I can't fuck this up. I shoved my face in front of his.

"I'm glad you invited me here," he whispered and caressed my nose with his. I could breathe the air leaving his slightly open mouth.

I can't and don't want to be without Conor ever again. It doesn't matter that he lives two thousand five hundred miles away. As long as we want to be in each other's lives, we will. I'm sure of that. I only have to get these five days right. Be the guy Conor deserves.

"Is it okay if I—"

With a loud bang, the door to my room flew open, interrupting us, this moment and everything I longed for.

I jumped three feet backward and shoved Conor away from me.

Of course, my stupid reflexes had to kick in.

Conor didn't stumble but looked moderately surprised by my move. So was I. As was the intruder, who stood in the doorframe, eyes wide open. I glared at Aj.

"Can't you knock?"

"You never knock on my door," Aj replied.

My eyes wandered between him and Conor.

"Mom said the barbecue is ready," my younger brother said and left, leaving the door open.

I walked over and smashed it into its frame.

"Jerk," I yelled.

What if he saw us? And what if... Conor is mad that I jumped away like a cat seeing a cucumber?

Shoving him as soon as someone could see us hugging tightly wasn't the move one should take when one likes someone.

This was so easy in December because it was just the two of us. But now? With my family around? That was a whole different deal.

Despite this, Conor just burst out laughing.

"Dude!" I yelled at him, not believing his reaction.

"This was such an Asher move," it busted out of him.

He walked to me, took my hand, and leaned his forehead on mine.

"Lucky for you that I like Asher."

He grasped my hand, and I wanted him to hold it like this forever, squeezing it at least a million times.

"I'm sorry, this was so stupid."

"What did you want to ask me before your brother interrupted us? Is it okay if you...?"

His grin was devastating. He already knew what I wanted to say. I'm sure of that.

"Do I have to say it?"

"Say what?"

"That I want to kiss you, dammit."

Fuck. Don't get angry. Breathe.

I searched for the floor, but his eyes searched mine.

"I'm sorry, I raised my voice."

"I'm not."

Conor buried his tongue in my mouth. His fingers—shoved into my hair.

How could I have ever imagined—even only for a second—that doing this might feel wrong now? Guess I have my answer. What I felt for him in the last months wasn't just imagination. This is real—more than anything before.

He pushed me into the door, and I pulled him closer. I wanted to explore everything. Because that's what I wanted to do and have always longed for with him—everything. And nothing was going to stop me from now on.

—

For a moment, I forgot where we were and grabbed Conor's hand as we walked down the staircase again. But as I heard some rustling in the kitchen, I let go.

Walking hand in hand in front of my parents wasn't an option. Not for now. My family has met two of my past girlfriends. I don't think they would have a problem if I brought a guy now. But with Conor living this far away and not having been around for this long, we can't just waltz in and announce that we are boyfriends now. And, shit, we aren't. We are friends who like each other a lot, talk on the phone daily, and even have had some FaceTime dates. But we haven't talked about being more than that yet.

The smell of sizzling meat and burning coal led us through the living room toward the backyard.

"Conor! So good to see you again," my Dad said, standing in front of the grill with an apron that announced he was the 'chef' today and turning some rib-eye steaks.

"Thank you for having me, Mr. Blakely."

"You're welcome. So how's it going living in LA?"

I took a can of orange seltzer and held it up to Conor. He nodded, so I took another one and handed it to him before finding a seat on the table that Dad and I had carried here earlier from the garage. We got lucky that the real spring (not one of those fake ones you have in February and March) arrived just in time for us to have the first barbecue of the year.

"It's amazing. LA is such a diverse place. So many people with so many different backgrounds. My classmates don't get tired of sharing very different points of view and ideas."

My Dad stared at him as if he hadn't expected such a long answer. So Conor wrapped it up. "Oh, and the lower humidity is fantastic."

Dad nodded. "I'm glad you like it. Your parents are settled in as well?"

"Yeah, they're a bit stressed because we had to move twice in the last two years. But they hang in there. And for now, we have the perfect apartment close to my Mom's work and not too far from school."

"It has been quite some time since your last visit," my mom mentioned as she joined us. She carried my Dad's condiment selection he ordered online from some particular company in Savannah and parked them on a small table next to the grill.

Our eyes met, and Conor understood right away that neither of them knew what had happened.

"Because he had a life there, Mom," replied in a hurry. "And he had things to do, like moving twice."

Mom raised her eyebrows at me as if she wanted to tell me to behave, and so did my father. Conor just stared at me and clenched his teeth to hide a laugh.

Thankfully Aj released the tension by running into the side table next to the grill with a big BANG. Napkins flew everywhere, and all the expensive condiments landed on the floor. (Lucky for Aj, all the bottles were made out of plastic. Because he wouldn't want to experience how Dad would have reacted if one of the containers broke.)

"How often have I told you not to stare at a screen while walking?" Dad yelled at him while Mom squatted down to clean up the mess.

"Way not to raise more questions about why I haven't been around," Conor said quietly, using the diversion.

"Would you want them to know?" I whispered.

Conor shrugged and got up to help my mom, but she insisted that he return to enjoying himself because he was our guest of honor today.

"Any plans for tonight?" Dad asked while flipping the steaks.

"We wanted to meet up with Leo, Will, and Milo," I answered. "They are picking us up in about two hours."

"Milo Nowak? How is he? Haven't seen him around for a while either."

I had no answer to that besides that I don't know because he cut all cords with me. And that he threatened to come for me if I hurt Conor, but I shouldn't tell them that. I searched for Conor's face and then remembered that all things considered, he also didn't know Milo and I weren't friends anymore. Or does he? Because it seemed that he immediately grasped that I was at a loss for Dad's question.

"He's fine," Conor jumped into the conversation, "He will compete in a boxing competition soon."

"Which one?" Dad asked.

Conor made a face and fumbled for his smartphone to look it up.

"He told me, but I forgot. Something with guns."

Dad looked at me as if I should know the answer, but I made a face, too, and shook my head. Dad nodded and pressed his lips together as if he only barely could keep himself from lecturing me that 'friends should know that.' But his eyes moved back to Conor as he raised his head from his phone.

"It's Gloves, not Guns," Conor elucidated.

"Good for him," my Dad replied, bringing his attention back to the grill.

"He also won't join us today," Conor said, just loud enough for me to hear.

"Why not?"

"He wrote to me while we were in the car. Something with his Dad."

Conor smiled sadly at me and didn't have to say anything more because I knew this wasn't why Milo didn't want to join.

The reason was that I would be there. And I got the feeling that my last message to him, asking if we could pull ourselves together for Conor's sake, could have maybe resulted in him deciding not to show up at all. Because he just can't stand being around me anymore.