He looks at his hands. I look at the floor. The silence stretches between us, thick and awkward. We’re both waiting for the other person to make a move, because I don’t think either of us knows what the rules are anymore.
I finally force myself to turn. I need to get home. I need to pack.
“Hey, Sinc?”
I spin back toward him so fast I almost trip. “Yeah?”
Louis is looking at me, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.
“I was thinking.” He gestures vaguely toward the TV, which is currently off. “Did you want to go over some tape on the Mustangs’ power play? Might be helpful?” He’s rambling a little, and it’s one of the most endearing things I’ve ever seen.
He’s looking at me with a mix of hope and uncertainty, and I feel like I must have the exact same expression on my face.
“Yeah. I think that would be really helpful,” I say with a smile, letting go of the doorknob.
The door clicks shut as I step back inside, and the atmosphere changes instantly. The noisy, playful energy of our teammates is gone, replaced by a thick, electric tension that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
I follow him back into the living room, where he sits on the couch. I should sit in the armchair to keep a safe distance between us, but I don’t. I sit right beside him, so close that our legs touch. He’s wearing basketball shorts, and the heat from his skin seems to sear right through my jeans.
“So,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Want me to grab the remote?”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “So, I, uh, might’ve told a little white lie.” He grins sheepishly, giving me a little side-eye. “I didn’t download the video.”
“Good,” I say, returning his grin. “Because I’ve already watched it.”
“Oh. Good. That’s good.”
My heart is hammering against my ribs. This whole situation is reckless—and I’mneverreckless. But I want this—I want him—too much to fight it.
“I, uh, didn’t want you to leave,” Louis says, the confession tumbling out.
“I didn’t want to go.”
I reach out, my fingers grazing the skin of his neck above his sling. His pulse jumps under my touch.
He makes a low noise in his throat, his eyes darkening with desire.Fuck it.I lean in, capturing his mouth with mine.
It’s slow and gentle at first, like we’re both testing the waters. Our mouths move against each other, exploring, until Louis lets out a groan. The sound goes straight to my already hard cock, and I deepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping into his mouth.
The kiss turns messy and desperate. He grabs the front of my shirt with his good hand, pulling me closer.
“Careful,” I murmur against his mouth, pulling back just an inch. “Your shoulder—I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Fuck my shoulder,” he pants. “Touch me.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I shift so I’m straddling his lap, my knees on either side of his hips. I’m careful not to put weight on his chest, keeping my body upright, but the friction of his hard cock rubbing against mine through the fabric of our clothes makes my head spin.
“Is this okay?” I ask, searching his eyes for any sign of pain.
“More than okay.”
He reaches up and slides his hand under the back of my shirt. The rough skin of his palm against my back makes me shudder.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked in the door,” he admits.
“Just since then? I’ve been thinking about it since Edmonton.”
He grins, a flash of white teeth that makes my stomach flip, and then we’re kissing again. I grind down onto him, loving how hard he is for me through his jeans.
