"Thank you," he says quietly.
He pulls me down and kisses me.
It’s not hunger or urgency; it’s a sealing of something. A moment between two people when they finally understand each other.
When he pulls back, I settle into him again, my cheek resting against his chest, his arm tightening automatically around me as if he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
We lay there for a while with the fire popping and the wind howling. The world outside is buried in white. But none of that matters tonight. The only thing that matters tonight are the two people in this bed and the fact that after almost two weeks, Luka and I finally feel like we’re on the same team.
"We’re going back in two days," he says finally, voice quieter now.
"I know."
"Are you going back to Scottsdale?"
"Yes." I trace a slow line across his chest. "I need to make sure I still have a job."
"And then?"
I tilt my head. "And then what?"
He hesitates, which is rare for him.
"We have away games as soon as I get back," he says. "Then the playoffs, if we make it deep. Then the offseason."
"And?"
"And I was wondering…" His fingers tightened slightly at my waist. "If I could come and see you."
He takes me off guard. I wasn’t expecting that. Although when it comes to Luka, I’m never expecting half the things he says or does.
"You want to come see me in Scottsdale?"
"Yes."
"Won’t you melt?" I ask.
That earns a slight tick up at the corner of his mouth.
"Not if you’re there."
I smile up at him.
"For how long?"
He exhales slowly. "If you’d let me… I’d spend the offseason there."
My world just about spins off its axis. Is Luka Popovich, sex god and quintessential lifelong bachelor, asking if he can spend the offseason with me?
"You’d want to stay for the entire offseason? With just me?" I ask softly.
"I’m not ready for this to be over," he says. "I want to try. With you."
There it is again.
Try.
Trust.
