“I can feel you fretting,” Gavin sleepily mumbles into the back of my neck. He’s naked, spent, and curled around me, holding me close. I never want to leave this shitty, lumpy, pushed-together bed. “Are you worried about the game?”
“No,” I say. I’m worried about what comes after. I’m worried about what happens when we leave this place. I’m worried about what happens when Gavin and I have to go back to being rivals instead of the powerhouse duo we’ve become over these last few weeks, both on the ice and in the bedroom. I’m worried about how I’ll adjust to no longer having him by my side and curled around me while we sleep. Which for the first time in my life, I’m able to do soundly, lulled into a deep slumber by his nightly presence.
He rolls me onto my back, then turns my face to look at him. His eyes are soft and sleepy, but they carry the same melancholy I’m harboring in our post-incredible-sex haze. He drags his hand down my chest and across my stomach, then settles it on my hip, curling his large fingers around the outside of it.
“You’re fretting about something,” he says.
It hurts too much to look at him right now, so I take my gaze to the ceiling and throw my left arm casually over my head. I close my eyes and enjoy the way his hand feels on my hip. Possessive, yet also incredibly tender.
“Do you think it’s too much to ask the equipment managers to pack this bed up for us?” he asks. I can hear the mischievous grin in his voice.
It pulls my lips up at the corners. “Where would we put it?”
He kisses my shoulder. “My place, obviously. It’s a step up from my mattress on the floor.”
I open one eye and look at him. “Please tell me you’re joking?”
His grin grows. “About which part? Me taking this bed home or it replacing the mattress on my floor?”
“Both, actually.” I laugh.
His smile fades slightly. “Neither,” he says. “This would be a decorative improvement for me.”
“Dorm room chic. I like it.”
“No, you don’t.” He laughs. “I bet your place is completely decked out.”
Now it’s my turn for my smile to fade. “It is,” I admit. “But I don’t love it or feel at home there. None of it was picked out by me. My mother had her decorator do it all and I just sort of went along. Too busy with hockey and keeping my father happy to focus on filling my place up with furniture. Hell, I barely picked the unit. I was rushed into purchasing a place in that building by my father as an investment.”
Gavin lifts his head and looks at me. There’s a slight quirk up to his lip. “Please tell me you don’t live in the same building with him.”
My cheeks burn red.
“I knew it,” he says, pressing his finger into my cheek. He lays his head on the pillow and slides his hand back down my body to curl his fingers around my hip again. “We gotta move you. If only so we can have some privacy whenever the Blizzards play the Broad Wings.”
I sigh. “I can always sneak into your hotel.”
“Is that what you want me to do when you play in Buffalo?”
“And miss my opportunity to sleep on your floor?”
“Asshole,” he says, laughing and nuzzling my neck.
When he lifts his head, I wink at him.
“But seriously.” He uses his hand on my hip to turn me onto my side to face him. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. But you promised me we’d try.”
Looking resigned, he nods his head, then kisses me long and slow. His hand slides up my back and settles at the nape of my neck. His fingers thread into my hair and he holds me steady as he deepens his kiss. I feel him grow between us. His cock has gotten thick and heavy again, readying itself for round two.
I reach my hand between us and give it a few slow tugs. “Someone’s awake again.”
“Someone wants to get inside you as much as possible before he has to wait weeks in between.”
“That’s fair.” I keep stroking him. My own cock is starting to rise, eager for a second release. “I guess one bonus is whenever we see each other it’ll be like the first time again.”
He frowns against my lips.
