Is it just me, or are things weirdly romantic now? I blurt, making the situation even worse.
He nods, the golden flecks in his brown eyes glinting in the low light. Maybe I owe you an apology. Sharing a bed as friends is more intimate than I realized.
I try to dispel the seductive mood. It’s all those hockey tournaments you go to as a kid. You start to think sharing rooms or beds is no big deal.
Mats chuckles and sits on his side of the bed. Cleo, is it okay if I get undressed to go to sleep?
Wow. He would sleep in all his clothing if I said no? What a gentleman.
Go ahead. That was my dilemma too. I had to scour the room to find this. I point to the T-shirt.
He clears his throat. Uh, yeah. It’s… not exactly your size. Also, what does it say?
I pull out the thin fabric so he can read it.
Ah, trucking. Well, that’s a disappointment.
I snort with laughter. Mats! Did you just make a dirty joke? I’m enjoying our new friendship.
He smiles back, then turns to take off his socks. He rises and lays his watch, his phone, and his wallet in a line on his bedside table. On my side of the bed, my clothes lay in a tangled pile where I shed them. Oops.
I can’t stop watching him. This may be my only opportunity to see the private side of Mats, which I very much want.
He takes off his belt, coils it, and lays it on the dresser. Then he pauses and looks at me.
What’s wrong? I ask.
Maybe I should get undressed once the lights are out… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
Is he serious? Well, let’s see, am I uncomfortable about seeing a very hot guy get undressed in front of me? I pause dramatically. No, I don’t think I am. You may proceed.
Mats laughs again and his relaxed expression makes him even more handsome. Why do I feel like now I’ll never be able to walk by the Minks dressing room without hearing laughter?
Actually, I was thinking of not telling anyone about this, I confess.
Really? Is that even possible?
Because you think I have no filter, right? Which isn’t completely wrong.
He nods, then reaches for his bedside lamp and turns it off. Wait, what if it’s Mats who’s shy? It’s not something I’ve ever considered, since hockey players are renowned for going tarps off at any excuse. Still, I reach over and turn out my light too.
Luckily, there’s moonlight leaking through the curtains, and with all the snow, it’s quite bright. Mats pulls off his T-shirt and lays it over the chair. His naked torso outlined in the dim lighting is impressive: bulging pecs, broad lats, and those huge arms. I’m a sucker for good biceps, even if they are the easiest muscles to pump up. But it’s not like Mats had a chance to work out just before this; that’s naturally him. Maybe there are benefits to clean eating.
I hear him undoing his zipper and the swoosh of his pants dropping. Normally, when a guy is getting undressed in my vicinity, I’m too busy worrying about what he will think of what I look like naked. I love my body, it’s strong and effective. But, along with my personality, my body is too much for some guys—too curvy and too muscled. Tonight, I don’t have to worry. I can just… enjoy.
Mats’s thighs are huge and defined, but his calves are surprisingly slender. Maybe this is what he’d look like without hockey, a slim body perfect for his fashionable clothes.
He doesn’t take off his underwear. I wasn’t expecting him to, but a girl can dream. Still, I can see the outline of his cock, and it’s impressive.
Jesus H. Christ. It seems unfair to other men that you have a body like that and a big dick too, I observe.
Again, I feel like the women’s team is going to know all about me by this weekend.
I’m relieved that he takes everything I blurt in stride. The mattress shifts as he gets in and slips under the covers.
Yes, I’ve been telling tales about our dinners. But lately, it hasn’t felt right, I admit.
Why not? he asks.
