RYLAN
The bottle of wine feels heavy in my hands as I stand outside Jamie's door, second-guessing my choice for the fifth time. I spent an hour at the wine shop, analyzing vintages and regions with the same intensity I use for reviewing game tape. The clerk probably thought I was insane.
Deep breath. I can handle this. I've faced playoff elimination games with less anxiety than I'm feeling about this dinner, but... this is different. This is Jamie's family. This is his home.
Before I can overthink it further, the door swings open. Jamie's there in a soft sweater that makes his eyes impossibly blue, curls slightly messy like he's been running his hands through them while cooking.
"You're early," he says softly, a smile playing at his lips. "Should have known."
"I can come back…"
"Don't you dare." He glances down the hallway before pulling me inside. "Mom and Dad are stuck in traffic, they decided to get an Air B&B on the other side of town for some unknown reason,"he rolls his eyes. "And Lola and Adam won't be here for another hour."
The door clicks shut behind me, and suddenly we're alone in his space. His actual home, not another hotel room. The delicious smell of turkey cooking in the oven makes me remember our family's holiday dinners when Nick and I were little kids. But the memories don't hurt right now, they feel more like a cozy blanket around my shoulders as I follow Jamie into his home.
"Nice place," I manage, taking in the comfortable mix of modern furniture and personal touches. There are books everywhere, academic texts mixed with novels, scattered across coffee tables and stacked on shelves. Family photos sit next to random hockey memorabilia, and he has some quirky art on his walls.
It's exactly like him, stylish but lived-in. It has an underlying warmth that makes my chest ache.
"Here." I thrust the wine forward like some kind of shield. "I wasn't sure what to..."
"You didn't have to bring anything." But he takes the bottle, his fingers brushing mine. "Though knowing you, this is probably perfectly selected to pair with turkey."
Heat crawls up my neck. "The clerk said the acidity would complement—"
Jamie's laugh cuts me off, warm and fond. "God, you're adorable when you overthink things."
Before I can protest that observation, he steps closer, right into my space. "We have at least forty-five minutes before anyone else arrives," he murmurs, eyes dropping to my mouth. "Any ideas how we could pass the time?"
My carefully prepared response about wine pairings dies in my throat.
"Jamie..." His name comes out rougher than intended. "We shouldn't..."
"Why not?" His fingers trail up my arm. "My family's stuck in traffic. We're alone. And you look..." His eyes drag over me, making my skin heat. "Really good in that sweater."
I should step back. Should maintain some professional distance. Should...
"Fuck it," I mutter, pulling him into a kiss.
He makes a pleased sound against my mouth, backing me against his kitchen counter. My heart pounds in my chest. Everything in here is just so him—justJamie—and it's making me dizzy.
"Been wanting to do this all week," he mumbles between kisses. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you in that weight room and not touch?"
I laugh breathlessly. "Try watching you stretch after practice."
"Yeah?" His smile turns wicked. "Like what you see, captain?"
"You know I do, you menace." But I'm smiling too, letting myself relax into this moment. Into him.
The oven timer beeps, making us both jump. Jamie groans, pressing his forehead to mine. "I should check that."
"Probably." But neither of us moves.
The sound of a key in the lock makes us spring apart like startled teenagers.
"Jamie?" Alexandra's voice carries from the entryway. "Traffic wasn't as bad as we thought!"
Jamie's eyes go wide. I quickly straighten my sweater while he runs a hand through his curls, trying to tame them.
