He let go, but his gaze remained locked on mine. His nose twitched, same as a muscle in his jaw. Did I smell bad? I showered after practice, so it couldn’t have been me.
“I, um, was looking for a pizza place around here,” I said, his stare starting to make me feel awkward. This wasn’t how I pictured introducing myself to the last member of the team.
“Gino’s Yard. It’s down that way,” Gabe said, pointing over my shoulder. “Best pizza in all of Vermont.”
“Awesome. Do you… want to join?”
Gabe’s nostrils flared again. He shut his eyes in a brief wince. Was he injured from practice or something? “I can’t,” he replied and took a small step backward. “I have something.”
Riiiiight. Gabe must have had some hookup he was on his way to meet with, or maybe he just didn’t want to hang out with the “newbie.” That was fair enough. He wasn’t required to break me in, to keep me company.
“Okay,” I said, figuring I should put this odd introduction to rest already. “Well, thank you for the help. And it was good meeting you. I’m excited about the season.” I held a hand out, hoping he wouldn’t try to turn my knuckles into pulp this time.
He grabbed my hand, tensed again, shook it, and then—surprisingly—pulled me into an equally tight hug.
Damn, he even smelled great. Nothing like the basic Dove soap they stocked the locker room showers with. He smelled like pine trees and leather and… and sex.
Certain switches in my brain flipped. My core tightened, and I suddenly became hyperaware of how pressed together our bodies were and how perfect a fit it felt. I could feel the rise of his chest, the cage of his biceps around mine, his large hand resting between my shoulder blades. Hisbody heat was delicious, radiating through the jacket he wore, a jacket I suddenly, and very muchirrationally, felt like was in the way.
I was big on scents. A bad one could easily turn me off, even just a tiny whiff of one, but a good scent could turn me into a drooling and feral mess in an instant.
Case in point.
Shit. I had to break this hug before Gabe could feel just how into it I was becoming.
How awkward would that fucking be?
I cleared my throat. Gabe stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans. His pupils looked blown, the light from a streetlamp glinting off them. “Right, well, I’ll see you tomorrow for the morning skate.”
“See you then,” I said.
Gabe continued walking, returning a few waves from excited fans who recognized him. He disappeared around a corner, but I felt like I could still smell him on me.
Alright, don’t be a fucking weirdo.
He was my teammate, someone I would have to work very closely with for the foreseeable future and whose chemistry I had to align with perfectly out on the ice. I couldn’t fuck that up by secretly fantasizing about him. Sure, I could admit he was hot and possibly also jerk off to the memory of his touch and smell later tonight, but it had to stop there. I’d have to get my post-nut clarity and wipe any kind of want or lust for Gabriel Sanderson from my mind.
I turned back toward the pizza place and told myself this was nothing.
Just proximity. Just a good-looking man in a cold city.
I'd felt chemistry before. Chemistry was just dopamineand bad decisions wearing each other's jacket. A bunch of lies bundled up together in a trench coat waiting to jump out and strangle you.
I wouldn’t be so foolish the second time around though.
No matter how strong that chemical reaction could be.
Gabe was right.That pizzahadbeen really damn good.
My sample size was a meager “one,” so I couldn’t compare it to any other pizza places in Vermont, but I could easily take Gabe’s word for it and believe it was one of the best pizzas in the state.
With my belly full and my muscles beginning to ache, I headed home. The fog had lifted, which made the short drive a very scenic one. It felt peaceful, driving through the curving roads, surrounded by lush trees broken up by beautiful homes with their holiday decorations lighting up their front yards.
I turned onto the driveway for the house I was renting. Finding it so soon and getting out of a hotel within days was a damn miracle.
It was dark compared to the homes I’d passed on the way here. I’d have to pick up lights or something at Walmart. It wasn’t a large house or property, so it wasn’t like I had to break the bank to decorate it. Just a simple one-story home with a small yard (perfect for less maintenance) and a short drive to the arena. Easy to care for and perfect for a lone bachelor who traveled all the time and needed a comfortable place to call his home base.
I’d never been the type to need the biggest and the best of things. My parents worked hard to give us a good life—both of them upper middle class, my mom a pediatrician and my dad a psychologist—and they spoiled me whenever they could, but I just never got a taste for excess. I enjoyed having comfort more than luxury, and that’s exactly what this home represented.
