“Well, my nap is going to be too fucking short so I’ll be dragging by the end of the game,” he says and pulls his shirt on.
I’ve finished wiping up so I drop the wash cloth onto the floor by the bed. I sit up but then he leans over me and kisses me so hard and so deep that I end up with my back pressed into the mattress. “But it was worth it?”
And then he walks to the door, puts his hand on the handle, and turns back to me. His eyebrows raise. I realize that’s a question, so I add, “I have no regrets.”
“Me either,” Noah says. “But next time, I’m sucking you off.”
I just smile. God damn him and his tenacious attitude. He leaves without another word or glance in my direction. And I wait for sleep to come. It takes forever but when I finally doze off I dream of the feel of his skin and the taste of his mouth.
CHAPTER 6
NOAH
I realized when my mom died that I was good at compartmentalizing my feelings. And by compartmentalize I mean sticking them in a box in my mind and burying it somewhere about six feet under my soul. So yeah, I can totally play a hockey game, on the same line as Luke, like we didn’t just have our tongues in each other’s mouths and our hands on each other’s cocks. In fact, I even feed him the pass that he uses to score the game-winning goal. And then I skate over and clap him on the back with my gloved hand and tap my helmet to his and tell him, “Way to go, Alexander.”
And all is perfectly normal until he responds with, “Good pass, rookie.”
And I skate away with a tightness in my chest and a flush on my cheeks that isn’t from the grueling pace of the game. That fucker is using a nickname that he invented today, while we were fucking around. He’s never called me rookie before and I… that fucker. His candidness is churning up that box I’ve buried.
The locker room is chaotic because everyone is upbeat and filled with extra holiday cheer now that we’re skating into our official Christmas break on a win. The press do their thing, making rounds and talking to everyone who made an impact on the game, which includes me. My quotes are always short and sweet when I get interviewed. I fucking hate this part of the job. And right now, with Luke four people over, giving his usual, long detailed entertaining answers, I’m having trouble keeping my head and eyes with the reporter in front of me. Luke’s in shorts and a team Under Armour shirt clinging to every over-exerted muscle. His dark hair is damp and curling at the ends. As a reporter asks another question, Luke raises his water bottle to his lips and sucks in some fluid, and all I can think about is that I know how those lips feel wrapped around my piercings. I know how that shadow on his jaw feels brushing against my neck. I know…
“Noah?” the reporter sharply prompts.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?”
I glance at Luke and he’s staring at me as the reporter repeats his question. I stutter out a response and the reporter moves onto another player.
When the press is gone we all shower, but I speed through it for two reasons. One, because I can’t be in there with Luke for too long because I’ll look at him. And if I look at him I’ll really look at him and every single one of our teammates will see the difference in us. In me. And secondly, because Justin and my dad are waiting for me. I’m staying here for the break and flying back to Vegas the day after Christmas.
Dad is beaming when I find them outside the guest lounge, and he pulls me into a hug. “You were incredible tonight. One of the best games of the year for you.”
“You’re really getting your footing on this new team,” Justin says, pulling me into a hug when dad lets go.
“Skates.” I hear his voice behind me and even though he’s probably a few feet away, something electric ripples down my spine. “He’s getting his skates under him. At least make it a hockey reference.”
Justin laughs and when Luke walks all the way over my brother slings an arm around his broad shoulders. The shoulders I’ve had squared against mine, skin-to-skin. “Okay, skates. Anyway this is going to be a blast. Like old times.”
“What is?” I stupidly stutter.
Dad’s bushy eyebrows pinch. “Luke, you didn’t tell him you’re joining us for Christmas?”
I fight to keep my jaw from dropping as my head moves slowly toward Luke. He looks so relaxed and calm, his damp hair brushed neatly in place, and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie nowhere to be found. I stare for a moment too long at that small expanse of skin where his neck meets his chest. I know what that skin feels like under my tongue. And he knows what I look like when I come. And I don’t have time to process any of that because he’s going to be right there, sleeping under the same roof. In the place where this obsession I have with him started.
This will either be the worst Christmas ever or the absolute best. Nothing in between. And I don’t know if I’m ready to find out.
CHAPTER 7
LUKE
I don’t know why I blindsided him. He doesn’t deserve it. I should have said no when Justin called me and invited me to stay with them for the holiday. Noah probably needs some time to figure out how he feels. Not about me. I’m irrelevant. I was a tool he used to experiment. No, he needs time to figure out if that experiment is an actual shift in his identity.
But here I am, stretched out on the pull-out couch in his family’s basement rec room, staring at the dark ceiling, wondering if every sound above me is Noah. Hoping if it is him, he’s on his way down here. For the next step on his journey of sexual awakening. But maybe there isn’t a journey. Maybe it was just a one-time trip. He drove into gay-town, decided it wasn’t for him and now he’s settling down in straight-town. Not all guys who are curious stay curious.
But then I remember the way he looked at me after he came on my hand. His eyes locked with mine and he looked so fucking happy. So content. Like all was right with his world and not like he’d made some horrible mistake.
“Fuck…” I mutter to myself.
Something above me creaks again. The couch is in the corner of the long rectangular rec room. Above, the kitchen. The bedrooms are at the other end of the house, above the laundry room. I hear water running down a pipe behind the wood paneled wall beside me. Someone is at the kitchen sink.
