“While I was with Stephanie?”
I break eye contact and nod.
“I’m so sorry I put you through that.” He cups my cheek, making me look at him again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you weren’t into men. I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship.” I almost don’t say the next part, but then I remember my promise. “I’m still struggling with it and letting myself want this means believing something about myself I don’t know if I can.”
“What do you mean?”
“That in any universe you’d want me.”
“Why wouldn’t you believe I want you?”
“Because my reality for so long was crafted in the idea that you were straight and would never return how I felt. I wanted so badly to turn off those feelings because I feared every day I’d fuck up things. I never wanted to cross a line and make youuncomfortable or make you feel bad that you couldn’t return it.” It’s hard to say, hard to tell him the depth of what I’d buried.
He carefully wipes my eyes with his thumb. “I never would have held it against you. But I do want you. I want only you.”
“I want only you too.” I break down, and he holds me while I hold him.
“So you’ll come with me wherever I get drafted?”
“Yes. I’m not giving you up when we just figured this out. You’ll already be traveling and gone a lot. I’m not giving up more of your time than that.”
“And are you okay being out?” he asks carefully.
“Cat’s kinda out of the bag there with all the pictures, and you’re going to be asked about it when you don’t have a publicist threatening everyone’s life. And if you forget, I’ve been out.”
He gives me a flat look. “Dating a professional hockey player is a different level of visibility.”
“I’m not saying you have to comment on it, but I don’t want to hide.”
“Good. I could never hide how I feel about you.” He’s too perfect, and I hate him a little for it, but at least he’s mine.
“I love that you don’t want to hide me.”
We kiss and explore each other’s bodies. Not really seeking out a release, but more so seeking comfort in skin on skin. It’s slow and lazy, and there’s no better way to spend a Sunday morning.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You know how, when you were just helping me out, you said I could fuck you any time I wanted?”
“Yes…what about it?” I say, finding the direction change strange.
“Does that stand?”
“You want to use me whenever you want?” I’m hard just thinking about it.
“Yes,” Wolfe says, breathless and clearly turned on by the idea.
“I guess you’ll have to put a ring on it,” I tease.
His mouth hangs open. “I’m gonna remember that.”
“No! I was teasing. Do not add this to your blow job stuff as more reason!” I’m never beating the wanting to marry him allegations now.
Fuck.
