Adan followed me over the edge a moment later, his release joining mine as he shuddered and groaned my name. We stroked each other through it, extending the sensations until they bordered on too much.
For several long moments, we lay there, chests heaving as we caught our breath in the aftermath. Adan’s forehead rested against mine, our noses brushing, sharing air in the scant space between our mouths. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, the rhythm gradually slowing.
Then Adan rolled to the side, pulling me with him so we lay facing each other on the narrow couch. He looked utterly debauched, his hair a mess, lips swollen, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“What are you thinking?” he asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“That I should probably feel guilty about what we did, but I don’t.”
“Good. Because I don’t either.”
“This complicates everything.”
“Everything was already complicated. I don’t think complicated comes in levels. It either is or it isn’t.”
I tilted my head to look at him. “You’re very philosophical for someone who just had their first sexual experience with a man.”
He snorted. “As if that has anything to do with it. Besides, it was your first time too.”
“True.”
Reluctantly, I rolled off the couch. “Let me get some tissues to clean up.”
I took quick care of myself, then handed Adan some tissues so he could wipe himself clean. As soon as that was done, I threw them all in the trash and hurried back to the couch, where Adan still lay stretched out like a Renaissance painting. He opened his arm and I snuggled close.
We stayed like that for another hour, talking quietly about nothing important, just enjoying the feeling of being close without having to worry about being discovered or maintaining appropriate distance. Eventually, Adan’s breathing evened out, and I realized he’d fallen asleep against my shoulder.
I should’ve woken him up, should have sent him home to his own bed and his normal life. Instead, I carefully maneuvered us both so we were lying down on the couch, Adan’s head pillowed on my chest, his arm around my waist, and then I wrapped a blanket around us.
This was dangerous territory—not just the physical intimacy we’d shared, but this emotional closeness, this domestic comfort that felt more significant than anything that had come before it. But as I listened to Adan’s steady breathing and felt the weight of his body against mine, I couldn’t bring myself to regret any of it. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Even if I had no idea how we were going to make any of this work in the real world.
18
ADAN
The Albany arena was emptying out, our 5-2 victory still echoing in the satisfied voices of teammates heading toward the bus. I’d scored twice and assisted on another, riding the high of everything clicking exactly the way it should. Tank was rehashing my second goal with Martinez near the exit, their voices carrying across the parking lot. “—came out of nowhere with that wraparound. Their goalie didn’t even see it coming!”
I should’ve been over there with them, breaking down plays and talking shit about Albany’s defense. Instead, I was lingering by the visitor’s locker room, pretending to check my phone while actually waiting to see if Nils would appear.
He’d mentioned driving separately before the game, something about needing to run errands. At the time, I’d been too focused on pre-game prep to think much about it. But now, with the team getting ready to pile onto the bus for the four-hour ride back to Buffalo, I was a little disappointed that we wouldn’t have the chance to spend time together.
“Adan?”
I turned to find him approaching from the coaching staff exit, gear bag slung over his shoulder. He’d changed out of his coaching attire into jeans and a sweater that made his eyes look impossibly blue in the parking lot lights.
“Great game tonight,” he said, stopping a careful distance away. Even here, with most people gone, we maintained the professional spacing that had become second nature.
“Thanks. That positioning drill we worked on really paid off in the second period.”
“I noticed.” His voice carried that warm pride that always made my chest tight. Then, more quietly: “Want to skip the bus ride? I have an idea.”
My heart rate kicked up immediately. “What kind of idea?”
“The kind that involves not being trapped on a bus with twenty other people for four hours. The kind that allows us to spend the night together.”
“Hell yes.”
