Hugo sighs. “Want to cuddle?” he asks as he sets me back on my feet and turns to grab his bag from his trunk. I didn’t realize he’d lifted me off the ground. “I really miss cuddling.”
“Yeah. I do too.”
He flashes me a smile. “You hungry?”
I shake my head. It’s late afternoon heading into evening since he flew in from Chicago. My stomach is dancing, so I don’t think eating is the best idea. “Unless you’re hungry,” I add.
Hugo shakes his head as he opens his front door. “Nope. The bus stopped on the way from the airport, and we all grabbed something to eat.”
He throws his bags to the side and shuts the door behind me. We kick off our shoes as he locks up and then he has my hand. I know when he really wants a cuddle because he tends to keep my hand in his until we’re on the couch. That’s been his pattern the last couple times I’ve come here. I’m not upset about it.
We stop in the kitchen so he can grab a couple bottles of water and then we head upstairs to the back den with the super big couch. It’s crazy wide, so it’s almost a bed.
Hugo sets the drinks down and then backs me to the couch. Idrop and he follows, immediately wrapping around me and pressing my back into the cushions.
There’s no stopping my racing heart. There’s equally no stopping my dick from getting excited when he pushes his leg between mine to get closer. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to ignore the feeling of his body against mine. As well as the thick bulge of his dick against my thigh. Especially since I know what that thing looks like hard.
Not in person, but as a 3D replica. The memory is burned into my retinas.
“What did you do while I was gone?” he asks.
I both hate and love that it sounds like such a domestic question.What did you do without me while I was gone?
“Not a lot,” I answer. “Hung out at home, mostly.”
“I think we play better when you’re around. I’m not the only one who looks for you as soon as we step foot on the ice. Even in another arena.”
My heart swells.
“How do you spend your time when you’re not playing games?” I ask, trying to move this away from things that make me desperately want to tell him how much I like him.
“Travel,” he says with a huff. “Talk to you, mostly.”
I grin and close my eyes.
“Also, there’s this girl that I’ve been texting with,” he adds, and my chest gets tight. Noooo! “I really like her.”
His hand moves and for a moment, I’m distracted by tracking it over my body. My skin tingles when I feel his fingers skim along my bare midsection and I nearly throb when his hand runs along my skin to my back. He pulls me close, but now his hand is under my shirt.
“What do you like about her?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds normal.
“I don’t know. She’s not superficial.”
“How do you know that?”
“We talk about real things. I didn’t meet her outside the arena where I know all that she’s probably interested in is my career or my dick. This girl… she doesn’t know me. I’ve been playing an online game with her where I build a homestead and stuff. We talk about life. She has some really cool fish.”
My heart nearly stutters to a fucking stop when I realize he’s talking about me. I’m not at all surprised he thinks the anonymous texts are from a girl. He’s grown up liking women; of course, he’s going to think that someone he’s attracted to is a woman if he doesn’t know otherwise.
But holy hell does it make me excited that helikes me. You know, the me he doesn’t know is me.
“She sounds great,” I say.
He sighs, nodding. “She does. We haven’t met yet. I don’t even know her name. But I’m not in a hurry to, either.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid that if she finds out who I am, she won’t like me for me.”
