“Hopefully only good things.” I shifted the wine bottle to my left hand and reached out with my right, gripping his tightly. “Sebastian Carruthers. Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” He glanced down at the wine in my hand and grinned. “And you brought the good stuff. Come on in.” He guided us into the house, closing the door behind us. “This way.”
“T-Mo?” I asked under my breath as we followed Bell through the foyer. “Your college teammates called you Moree.”
Taylor’s steps faltered, and he stopped to look at me in wide-eyed shock. “You remember that?”
“Yeah. I mean, of course.”
“I didn’t think you paid attention to stuff like that.”
Oh, I’d paid attention, all right—to the way his teammates could sling their arms around his shoulders or ruffle his hair, the way they’d drape themselves over him at parties, half-drunk and laughing, and hanging on his every word. No one ever looked twice at teammates being physical with each other like that. That was just what hockey bros did.
I’d been so jealous I could barely stand it sometimes. They got to touch him without consequence, while I had to measure every accidental brush of our hands. They got to use cutesy nicknames for him, where I had to fight every instinct not to call him “baby.”
And when he’d call me “bro” in that same friendly, casual tone he used with them, it had felt like proof that we weren't special. That what we had—what we did—was just more of the same easy affection he gave everyone.
I’d let that jealousy get the better of me.
Despite the attention I’d paid him back then, I’d missed what actually mattered. I’d been so focused on noting every touch his teammates got that I didn’t, that I hadn’t seen the way he looked at me differently. How he treated me differently, too. How he’d wait for me after class, even when it made him late to practice. How he’d remember things I’d mentioned once in passing and bring them up weeks later.
Taylor had loved me—maybe not with words, but in every small choice he made where I was concerned.
“I wish I’d paid better attention.”
The words hung between us, Taylor's throat working like he was trying to figure out what to say, and I couldn’t look away from him even though I knew I should.
“You want a minute?” Bell asked, his voice cutting through the moment.
My head snapped toward him. His expression had turned gentle, his mouth going soft at the corners. It was the kindof look that said he’d once stood exactly where I was and understood what was happening.
Well, that didn’t take long,I thought.
Not even ten minutes here, and I’d already given myself away.
Taylor cleared his throat. “Nah. We’re coming.”
“Back this way.” Bell gestured for us to follow him. “Come meet my husband.”
The living room opened into a large kitchen with a marble-topped island and wall-to-wall French doors that led out onto an expansive deck. Through the glass, I spied a dark-haired man standing at a built-in grill that looked to be professional-grade.
Bell plucked the wine from my hands as we passed through the kitchen. “I’ll get this opened. You know where the glasses are, Taylor.”
Taylor pulled two bottles from the six-pack of beer and twisted off the caps. Then he retrieved a couple of glasses from the cabinet next to the refrigerator and passed them to Bell, who filled them nearly to the brim. He handed me one, then moved toward the door and slid it open.
“Hey, babe," he said, addressing the man at the grill. "Taylor and his bestie are here.”
Ethan Harrison looked up, his mouth quirking up and to the side. It wasn’t quite a smile, but close. “Hey, T. Long time no see.”
“Tell me about it,” Taylor said, stepping onto the deck and handing him one of the beers.
Ethan took it with a nod of thanks, then hung his tongs on a hook on the grill and wiped his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder.
I stepped forward, the rich smell of charred meat and smoke hitting me immediately. I extended my free hand. “Hi, I’m Sebastian. Thanks for having me.”
Ethan’s handshake was firm. “Happy to have you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to check on the food. “Bell mentioned you’re in town doing some work?”
I glanced at Taylor, not sure how much he’d told his teammate about me or how we’d been passing the time during my visit. “Officially, I’m on vacation for the rest of the week, but yeah, I’ve been talking to some folks about a local campaign.”
