“Yeah, I’m lucky that something I love is so easily within reach. I’m actually pretty excited to take over, to be honest. I’ve got ideas.”
Another smile, this one managed around a piece of sushi roll.
“I could use an accountant,” I tell Marcos. He laughs. I wasn’t joking, but that’s not a conversation for right now. That’s a conversation for when I’ve got him at the ranch, and can ply him with baby animals and fresh air.
“When do you think I should come?” he asks.
“I’ll be going back within a couple days of the semester ending, so…a couple days after the semester ends.”
He laughs again. Today might very well be the best day of my life—Marcos happy and comfortable and agreeing to come back home with me. I wonder what else I might be able to get away with.
“Max will be heading to Detroit for training camp the last week of June,” he says slowly, as though he’s thinking while he talks. “So, maybe I come then? For a week or?—”
“—or the rest of the summer?” I fill in hopefully. A week isn’t long enough. Hell, the summer probably won’t be long enough.
“Yeah,” he says slowly, staring at me hard enough that it feels like he’s trying to read my mind. “Maybe.”
I nod and happily pop another sushi in my mouth. There is a lot of wiggle room in maybe. Maybe is good. I can work with maybe.
“Fantastic. I can’t wait to see you on a horse.”
“I’m not going to ride a horse.”
“Tight blue jeans,” I continue, ignoring his protests, eyes closed as I picture it. “A little bit dirty; sweaty. Cowboy hat.”
“I will never, in my life, wear a cowboy hat,” he says firmly. Laughing I open my eyes and find him scowling at me.
“You can ride double with me,” I offer.
“Becausethatwouldn’t be embarrassing in front of your family.”
At the mention of my family, a little bit of joy slips away. I haven’t told them about Marcos. I don’t think they’ll care, but I also think that’s probably what everyone believes when they come out to their parents. What if they do care?
Marcos, who’s been watching me and is incredibly observant, apparently reads all of my thoughts right off my face. Leaning forward, he puts a hand on my knee, bringing his face close to mine.
“It’ll be fine,” he says.
“I think so,” I agree, even though I’m unsure.
“If it’s not, you can come back here with me, right?” I nod. “Good. Now you’ve got a back-up plan, even though you won’t need it.”
I nod again, and then close the distance between us to kiss him. The sushi is finished, so I haphazardly stack all the trays and put them back in the take-out bag. Setting it by the door to deal with later, I tug on my pajamas and crawl back into bed. Marcos does the same. For a second, I wonder if theexpiration date on cuddling has passed, as he curls up onto his side with his back to me.
I don’t have to wonder long. Reaching a hand behind him, he finds mine and tugs me over. Grinning, I spoon him—sliding a leg between his and tucking my face back into that lovely little spot on his neck.
The last thing I think about before falling asleep is the upcoming summer and the many nights I’ll hopefully get to sleep just like this.
16
Marcos
Lukeand I make our slow way through the crowd. As expected, the final game of SCU’s hockey season is packed with students. I’m grateful for the foresight that had me grabbing a hoodie on the way out the door. Tugging the sleeves down to cover my hands as another person bumps into me, I move a little closer to Luke. He’s walking in front of me, clearing the way as we trudge toward our seats.
By the time we get there, my stomach hurts and my skin is crawling even with the hoodie covering my arms. There aresomany people here. Luke silently files into the row and sits down, gesturing for me to take the end seat.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“No worries,” he says, leaning forward and squinting down at the ice. His shoulders relax, and I know he’s spotted Max. I search him out as well, and watch as he skates around the back of McIntire’s net.
