Level Hands: Bend or Break, Book 4 (32 page)

“The iceman cometh,” Austin said sourly from where he sat on the low couch, legs spread so he could hunch over the coffee table, an illegal alcohol lamp flaming at his elbow. The black wax monstrosity in front of him was a new piece.

Rafi remembered how many days it had been since he’d done anything but head directly to his room upon returning to the suite, and admitted to himself that the sculpture was probably only new to him.

“Hey,” he said. Lamely.

“Nice to see you too, stranger.”

Obviously the latest piece wasn’t going well. Either that or Austin was hanging on to some wariness about Rafi’s anger over the pot bust. The way Rafi had been acting lately, that wouldn’t be a surprise. At least Rafi knew how to handle a cranky Austin.

“Skittles?”

“God, yes.” Austin threw down the half-formed lump of wax he’d been molding with powerful fingers and bounced up off the couch. “I’m starving.”

“Shocker,” Rafi drawled, passing over the bag after spilling a few more candies in his palm. He wouldn’t be seeing that one back again. Austin was always starving. The world’s tiniest trash compactor for a stomach.

They munched and Austin waited, as if he knew Rafi was there, at last, to talk about all the shit that had been going on in his brain. Rafi had to work his way up to it, though, through a conversation that started about rowing. He finagled an update on Denny’s injured arm from Austin, and then finally got around to his confession about this crazy idea that he might go into nursing.

Austin, of course, didn’t think there was anything strange about the idea at all.

“Cool. My uncle was, like, the black sheep of the family after running off to join the army for Desert Storm and coming back a nurse.”

Remembering the first day he’d met Austin, and the story of his friend’s father who was “the head of some government department in Panama”, Rafi suspected there was more to the story than that. In Austin’s rarefied world, there almost always was. “What does he do now?”

“I don’t remember. The undersecretary of Health and Human Services or something. Or is it the deputy secretary? I can never remember that shit.”

“For?” Rafi asked, simply to enjoy the answer he knew was coming.

“The United States, silly.”

“Of course he is.” He shook his head.

“You got any more candy?”

“No. Want me to go get some stuff from the vending machines?” Might as well extend the olive branch right off the bat.

Austin skewered him with a sharp look. No dummy, his cox. “Indeed I do. You can make up for your horribly antisocial behavior by saving me in my hour of need.”

“Yeah? What hour is that?”

“The hour before this stupid project is due, which is not actually until Friday. But I’m hungry now.”

“You’re always hungry.” But he went back into his room to look for quarters. The last time he’d gone down there, the card reader had been broken and it wouldn’t take paper money either.

“It’s taking bills again,” Austin called to him.

Damn, he’d missed that. The rhythms of the suite, where they each knew what the others were on about almost before they said anything out loud.

There was something else—someone else—he was missing too, someone whose understanding of him made the rhythms of the suite look like playing patty-cake next to a symphony.

Rafi knew he’d fucked up badly with Denny. Beyond badly. And he wasn’t sure he knew a way to fix it. Or even whether or not he could.

When he returned with the candy, Austin thanked him. Before Rafi was able to lock himself up in his room again, though, his cox stopped him with that voice of command he normally saved for when they were on the water.

“Hey. Are we gonna talk about what’s really going on with you, or what?” Austin rapped the question out, pinning Rafi in place like a bug.

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to. But if one thing had become clear in these past two days of thinking long and hard about what he’d done and what he wanted to do going forward, it was that Rafi had to let go of his need to fake it.

Pot-smoking bust aside, Austin had been a good friend to him since the day Rafi had shown up on campus.

It was time for Rafi to stop pretending as if he’d been anywhere near as honest a friend in return.

The next twenty minutes of soul-baring were the hardest thing Rafi had done since coming back to school from Chicago. Austin sat quietly and listened to him talk, not interrupting the stream-of-consciousness dumping of every screwup and mistake Rafi was making in class, on the team and, most importantly—more important than anything else—with Denny.

When he was done, Rafi felt drained, wrung dry like a racing uni after a dunk in the river.

“Listen, sounds like you’ve got stress, anxiety and anger management issues,” Austin announced.

“What are you, a shrink?”

Austin shrugged. “I’ve been in therapy since my parents split up when I was five. I’ve got this shit down. Do you want to talk to my shrink?”

“What?”

“She does phone consultations,” Austin said, as if it were obvious what he’d meant.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can afford that.”

Austin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Like she gives my dad a detailed list when she bills him. I’ll tell her to put it on his tab. ’Cause, dude, you need this. We—” He circled a hand around the suite. “—need this. Okay?”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected, but maybe being honest had brought him something he absolutely needed.

Chapter Fifteen

One phone consult with Austin’s shrink wasn’t going to fix Rafi’s problems like the wave of a magic wand. But the psychologist managed to tease out the details of one particular problem in his life and help him come up with a plan to fix it.

Having a shrink who was also a college football fan was a bonus for an athlete with scholarship stress, it turned out.

He was too nervous to call Denny and ask him directly, so Rafi had texted him and asked Denny to meet him at the boathouse on the Monday afternoon before winter break. Coach Lawson had agreed to the session without asking for details.

Rafi got to the boathouse early, hoping a workout would burn off some of his nervous energy. In the locker room, he’d barely finished changing into his workout gear when: “Look what the fucking cat dragged in. You slacking, Fidel? Or did your whore boyfriend wear you out last night?”

Before he could think twice, Rafi surged to his feet, chest bumping Boomer back until the rower banged into the lockers behind him.
Fuck it
. He’d had to do this more than once in high school.
Guess it was too much to hope college would be different.

“Let’s go.” The whites of Boomer’s eyes were visible all around his pupils. “Let’s fucking go, if you’ve got such a problem with me,
Booger
. Let’s see how much trash you can talk with your teeth knocked in.”

“Fuck you.” But he could hear it in the guy’s voice. Boomer was backing down already. “You’re not gonna set me up to get suspended for fighting. No fucking way.”

“You tell yourself that’s why,” Rafi said, voice sharp like a knife. He stayed right on Boomer’s toes. “But you and I both know different. And if you ever say shit about my boyfriend again, I won’t be asking you to go. You understand me?”

And God, it felt good to make threats. To not give a shit and to defend his man, even if Denny wouldn’t have thanked him for it. Rafi didn’t care. He
needed
to do this.

With deliberate contempt, he turned his back on Boomer and faced his locker to put his shoes on.

“Fucking cocksucker,” came the muttered voice behind him as he laced up.

Rafi slammed his locker door as three of their teammates wandered over just in time to hear him say to Boomer, “Wait your turn, asshole. I’m not a porn star. I can only suck one dick at a time.”

He left Boomer behind him for the gym, where the memory of that asshole sputtering and turning red in front of his friends as they gave him shit powered Rafi through a set of sprints on the ergs. By the time he wrapped up his workout, Rafi was feeling revived and ready to do the hard work of being honest with Coach about the help he needed.

In Lawson’s office, he exchanged small talk with his coach until Denny arrived, looking wary but cooperative. After exchanging greetings, Lawson and Denny sat and listened as Rafi explained his problem.

“My, um, anxiety about crew is out of control,” he said, keeping his eyes focused over his coach’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to look either of them in the eye. “I’m taking it out on…people. Friends. Everyone.”

He didn’t have to say the words
my boyfriend
for everyone to understand. Going into too much detail didn’t seem appropriate. “The main issue is that I’m worried my scholarship won’t be renewed if I’m not outperforming my teammates. Having to apply every year is making me focus on that stress above everything else.”

When he paused, Coach Lawson nodded at him to continue.

“I spoke to a therapist—” Denny’s head jerked around until he was staring at Rafi. “—and she mentioned that the California state school system recently changed all their athletic scholarships to a four-year model. They wanted to prioritize academic possibilities for their athletes, not pro sports careers, so they decided to eliminate the idea that if athletes weren’t cutting it, they’d be…well, cut.”

“I’ve heard about that,” Lawson said slowly, tapping a pen against her desk. She pushed back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I thought it was a terrific idea.”

“I asked Denny to meet us, because I thought maybe he’d have some insight. About how the alumni group runs things.” Here was where it got hard, because Rafi had to admit to what they all knew: that Denny and Cash and their family members had manipulated the system for him. He was embarrassed to admit it, but he was going to ask them to do it again for him. If he wanted to get the things he wanted in life, he needed to figure out a way to stop being ashamed of asking for them. He needed to get damn good at that. “I know his family…I know
he’ll
help if he can. With the board. I want to find out if I can…I don’t know what? Petition them? To change my scholarship like that too.”

When the silence ran on uncomfortably long, he cleared his throat. “I think it would help me. Um, a lot.”

Lawson didn’t make him wait any longer. “I’d be more than happy to speak to them with you. Or for you, even, because I’m not sure you should be there, actually. It might be better if I brought this up as if it were my idea entirely.”

To Rafi’s left, Denny nodded, slowly. Lost in thought. “That might be better.” He glanced at Rafi. “I wouldn’t want them to think you were complaining.”

Rafi blew out a breath. “Even if I am.”

“They didn’t think this through. Didn’t set you up to succeed,” Lawson put in, like a true coach. “We can do better.”

Fifteen minutes later, Denny and their coach had come up with an entire strategy on how to bring the matter up with the board. Rafi, meanwhile, sat chilling in a puddle of sweat, disbelief swamping him at how easy this had been.

Months of stress and anxiety gone, maybe. With a half-hour conversation sparked by his own honesty.

God, he was going to kill himself if it turned out to be this easy.

By the time he returned his attention to the conversation, Denny and Coach Lawson had moved on to other topics.

“If PT doesn’t get you back up to competition speed,” Lawson was saying to Denny, “I want you to seriously consider what I told you.”

“What’s that?” He’d obviously missed something.

“I want Denny to take a real look at getting into coaching. It’s competitive as hell, but I think he’d have a shot at getting on staff at one of the elite programs with his background. Work his way up and maybe even find a spot with the national team.”

“Jesus,” he breathed, staring at Denny, who wasn’t looking at him at all.

“It’s a long shot, and I’m not even sure I’d want it.”

“Why not?” Rafi demanded. He knew it in his gut, how great Denny would be at this. How hard he could push a top-tier team, improve their performance and bring them to new heights.

He’d done it for Rafi, who had started out not knowing an oar from a baseball bat. Imagine what he could do with real elite athletes.

“It’s a tough field, like Coach said. And you have to be ready to pick up and move wherever the job is.”

“So?” Rafi demanded, not seeing the problem.

Lawson raised an eyebrow at Denny as if to say the same.
So?

Denny spread his hands in the air and said simply, “I wouldn’t ask Rafi to put aside his own plans to follow me across country. I’ll need to follow him this time.”

Lawson nodded her understanding, and the two of them chatted for another minute while Rafi tried to recover from nearly swallowing his tongue.

“Thanks, Coach. I started some research, looking at Chicago internships.” Now Denny looked at Rafi, biting his lip and then letting it go to sit up straight. “We’ll see what happens. I’ve got plenty of time.”

After they left Lawson’s office, Rafi followed Denny down the hall, chasing after his swift pace.

“What do you mean, you’re researching Chicago internships?” he demanded of Denny’s back.

Denny stopped and turned to face him. “I figured there’s a pretty good chance you’re going to want to go back there after graduation. So I’m checking on the urban planning scene. I mean, I haven’t declared my major even, yet, but I’m pretty sure that’s the direction I’m leaning.”

“But, wait.” A hundred and forty-seven different voices were chattering in his head. Exclamations and questions and the slow, deep whisper running underneath it all like a river.
For me, for me, for me.
“Why?”

Because there was only one question that had really ever mattered.

Denny stared at him, slashes of pink blooming on his high cheekbones. A chunk of blond hair was falling in his eyes but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Why?” His voice was level, steady, at first. But as he spoke, his volume increased until he was practically shouting. “Why? Because I am waiting for you, Rafi. I’m waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and figure out that we work.”

“You’re waiting for me?” He heard the words but had a hard time believing in them. Not after the way he’d treated Denny.

“I’ve been waiting for you since I was seventeen years old,” Denny said, and took Rafi’s breath away.

Rafi slumped against the fitness center wall, speechless, knowing he was supposed to say something, something important. Knowing he was fucking it up by not saying anything as random staff and students passed them by, turning their shoulders to squeeze past in the narrow hallway.

This was too important to be happening in a public walkway with sounds of grunts from the weight room and racquetball ricochets in the background. He looked for an exit and spotted one, heading for it and hoping Denny was following.

Outside, Rafi collapsed into a seat on a nearby park bench, the metal under his ass cold as ice. He sucked in crisp air through his nose, smelling the murky dampness from the swampy area that bordered the fitness center.

Denny approached and laid his hand on Rafi’s head, palm pressed against the close-clipped hair, the heat of his hand a benediction. Rafi let his head fall forward until it pressed against Denny’s stomach. Those muscles were tense, hard against his skull.

Fingertips stroked down the back of his head to flirt with his neck, gentle, soothing.

“I’ve known since the day we met that if you wanted me, I wanted you right back. And I got it. You had some kind of moral thing about not taking advantage of me. Which was a dumbass rule, but I got it. Then there was dealing with coming here, and Boomer’s bullshit trash-talking, and Lola’s accident, and the stress of it all that turned you into a total asshole this week.” Here Denny paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and blew it out in a rush. “And it didn’t help when I had my accident. I know you wanted to turn the tables there. Be the one who was helping me out for a change. But I just couldn’t deal with that. It was like…I had one thing I could do for you, you know? I could help make this whole crazy change in your life easier. Not because you couldn’t do it without me. But maybe because I needed you to count on me for something. I needed you not to be able to shut me out so easily.”

It was easy, somehow, to say the words this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to shut you out.” He didn’t want to lie and make it all sunshine and roses though. Pretending he didn’t have resentments of his own wasn’t going to do them any favors. “Sometimes, though, it feels like you keep saying you understand what I’m saying, but you never actually hear me. I know there are steps. That things need to move forward in a…a relationship. But if you’re always moving faster than I am, it feels like I’m the one always being left behind.”

“I know I push too hard sometimes,” Denny admitted at last. “I think I want so much, it makes me feel unbalanced. Like you’ll never need me as much as I need you.”

“But I do. God, I so do. And I’m sorry too,” Rafi repeated fervently. Hell, he’d repeat it from now until graduation if it would fix things between them.

“Thank you. That helps. But, Rafi, that’s a whole lot of time we’ve wasted. Okay, not wasted, but…let go by while we made sure we knew what we wanted. And I know. I’ve always known.”

He tipped Rafi’s head back with inexorable fingers until their gazes met, and Rafi could see that Denny was done with fucking around. This was it. This was all him. Everything he had, laid out on the table like light on the river at dawn.

“You’re it for me. That’s all I need to know. And if we need to figure out a way to fight better, or do anything better, I’m in. All in. You understand?”

Rafi’s throat was too tight to speak. He blinked to keep his face dry and nodded.

“So you’re the one who’s gotta figure this out next, okay? Because I’m waiting again. And I don’t know, maybe I really would wait for you forever. But mostly it feels like I’ve spent too much time on hold for you.” He dropped his hands from Rafi’s face and stepped away, blinking hard.

“I talked to my mami about you,” Rafi admitted. He’d finally managed to get his mom on Skype again, for the first time in ages. She’d made it clear he’d waited too long.

Denny’s look was sharp, but waiting. He didn’t say anything. They were both out of the closet, maybe more with some people than with others, but neither of them were hiding much at this point. So Rafi’s telling his mom about Denny was only full of potential, not a shocking revelation. “I told her that maybe we were too different to make it. That we didn’t see things the same way. Or fight about them the same way.”

“That’s a big one.” Denny nodded.

“I know.” Their fight had leveled him. Left him stomping defensively around campus, into and out of classes with half his attention on the argument raging inside his own head. He’d yelled and shouted and demanded Denny agree with him. And after days of yelling and shouting to himself, the idea had slowly begun to percolate up from somewhere deep and sticky inside him that maybe Denny wasn’t the one who needed to change.

Because even though he mostly wanted to defend the way he fought as being part of his family’s style, he knew that wasn’t quite true.

Yes, he and his sisters had grown up shouting and yelling and slamming doors at each other. Maybe it had something to do with not having his mom around once Rafi had arrived in the States. Maybe his sisters had been grown up enough to pay the bills and to raise him, but not quite grown up enough to think about whether or not it was cool to elevate the volume with the escalation of anger.