JULIAN
By the timeI’m driving home from the arena on the tenth, I’mreadyto see Arush again. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours surprised by the realization of just how much I missed him. I miss his presence and his conversation. His smile.
I miss hugging him when I walk through the front door. That was probably the first moment I realized we’d already created a routine and the absence of it is deeply felt. I walked through the hotel room door, and while I knew he wouldn’t be there waiting for me, my eyes immediately looked for him. Expecting to see him there.
The room was dim and empty. Just me. As it remained for the following six days, every single time I walked through the door.
But as I drive home, I’m so, soreadyto be with him again. I can’t wait to see his face and the way it lights up when he smiles at me. I want to get lost in his pretty, dark eyes.
I want to feel the way his hand fits in mine. How his body fits against mine as we embrace.
Since I called him a few days ago, we’ve talked on the phone a lot. Still, the first thing he asks when he answers my call isalways ‘Are you okay?’ It makes me wonder what he’s thinking when I’m gone. Why is that his first question?
The lobby of my condo complex has a lot of people roaming around. Among them is Sally as she gets her mail. I smirk, thinking about what Ellie and Paul told Arush. The old couple means well. They enjoy keeping up on the lives of everyone in the building. But they’re truly an older couple from a very different generation.
I’m positive they don’t mean harm by the gossip they share. It gives them something to entertain themselves, and Ellie’s wit is sharp. I’m convinced that keeping up with the condo has a lot to do with it.
They would invite any one of our neighbors in if someone needed something. They might pass some judgment and spread some wrong information in the process, but in a way, everyone in this condo is their family. You might not like what family does, or understand it, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t take care of them if they needed something.
That’s Ellie and Paul.
As much as I adore them, I’m also glad I don’t run into them. I only have a short time at home before I promised my Arizona friends, who are now here in Chicago, that we’d grab an early dinner before the game. Which means I want to soak up all of Arush’s attention while I can. Before I need to leave him again.
Thankfully, tomorrow is a day off. I’m not stepping foot outside this building. I might head down to the gym for a while, but I’m not leaving. Maybe Arush will let me drag him down with me, just so I can keep my eyes on him all day.
My eyes lock with Arush’s as soon as I open the door into the entry. His smile is a cross between excited and shy. I drop my gear bag and suitcase while I cross the space to wrap my arms around him. He hugs me tightly as the door clicks shut quietly behind me.
We don’t speak and my eyes drift closed as we stand there just like that for a long time. I love the way he smells. There’s something that screams he’s from a different culture here. Spicy and warm, welcoming. I press my nose to his shoulder and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with all things Arush.
“I’m glad you’re home,” he says quietly.
“Me too.”
“I’m sad you have to leave again.”
I laugh under my breath. “Trust me, it’s not my first choice. I get games back-to-back when we’re home, but when we’ve just come from a week of travel where we were in a different time zone yesterday, played a game last night, traveled home today and have another game tonight? I think the people approving these schedules should have to play them for a season.”
“It doesn’t seem healthy.”
I snort through a grin. “Trust me, impact sports aren’t healthy in general. It takesa lotto keep at something this violent on your body. It’s always impressed me when people play into their thirties. You know they began when they were six-, seven-, eight-years-old. That’s two to three decades of hard impact play, constant stress on your body, and pushing every part of you far beyond what the body should be put through during a rather short period of time.”
“Why do you play?” Arush asks.
I press my mouth into his shoulder again as I think about it. “I love it.” It’s as simple as that.
“Do you worry about the toll it takes on your body and how that’ll affect you later in life?”
“Definitely. All the time.”
“Are you going to play into your thirties?”
I don’t answer right away but take another deep breath of Arush. Has anyone ever smelled this good before? Is it whateverhe showers with or maybe puts on after? Or is it just the smell of Arush Bakshi?
“I don’t know,” I say eventually. “Part of it isn’t up to me. If a team wants me, that gives me the opportunity to keep playing. If they stop wanting me, that means my skill is weakening. On the one hand, I’d rather go out on my own choice.”
“On the other hand?”
“Part of me wants to keep playing for as long as I’m able. I’d really like a Stanley Cup before I retire.”
