“Then yeah. Stay. I can meet you at my place, or?—”
“Wait for me here.”
He startled. “In the closet?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, in the closet like some little goblin.”
“You rolled your eyes, didn’t you?”
“How could you tell?”
He grinned up at me. “It’s all in your voice. You’re better at showing it than most people.” I didn’t know why that made me feel so fucking good. I cupped his cheeks again and desperately fought off the urge to press our lips together. “Wait for me downstairs. I have to talk to my coach, and then I’ll drive us to your place.”
“Okay,” he said, his murmur so soft it was nearly a whisper. “And I’m?—”
“Don’t,” I said, touching his lips, “say sorry again.”
He huffed. “I’m Canadian. It comes naturally.”
“Fight the urge.”
He burst into laughter, then shoved his face into my neck and gave me the softest, warmest, most devastating fucking kiss of my life, right against the beat of my pulse. “Alright. I’ll do my best.”
And with that, he let go, moving around me to let himself out. I stood there for so long—too fucking long—feeling the echo of his lips and knowing that I was absolutely and utterly fucked.
I could tell Jonah was not in the mood to fuck, which was great for me because I wasn’t either. When I brought up training with the Legends, Noah had laughed in my face and told me and Vanya to get the fuck out. God, I hated him so much. He was such an arrogant little twat, and every time I saw him, I wanted to put my fist through his face.
I would have started having my agent reach out to other teams if it hadn’t been for the fact that I liked Boston—and that Jonah was there. If he wasn’t, if I wasn’t in the car with him on the way to his place, I might have made the call.
Instead, I took his hand as he led the way up to his front door, and the two of us said nothing as we kicked off our shoes and walked into the living room. Evidence of Vanya was all over the place. He’d come over to make his curry for Jonah by the smell of it.
He did that for every guy on the team who was having a bad day or missing home. And even though it wasn’t my comfort food, every time I ate it, it felt like a warm hug.
It was a wonder Jonah hadn’t fallen for him.
“Are the lights on?” Jonah asked as he took his cane and looped the strap over a hook by the door.
“Mm. Want me to turn them off?”
“I don’t want you breaking your neck,” he said, reaching for me. His hands fell to my waist, and he tugged me close. “I probably have one of the city’s lowest electricity bills most months, so I can afford to run the lights a bit while you’re here.”
I smiled and nosed along his temple. “Thank you. We have no shot at playoffs, but I’d rather not go out with a concussion this year.”
“Aww, come on. You’re not doing that bad.”
“You must not be watching,” I said, then froze, but he just laughed and shrugged.
“Trust me, I have been. And…okay, maybe not this year. But it’s better than last season. Vanya’s saves have been amazing, and Linds and Kosy’s chemistry has gotten a lot better. I think another year—maybe some extra practices in the summer—and they’ll be unstoppable.”
I looped my fingers around the waistband of his sweats and tugged him against me. “It’s a good thing we don’t play against each other. You’d destroy us.”
He grinned. “I didn’t expect it, but I think we’ve got a shot this year. Our season started rough, but we’ve been doing much better.”
“Yes. You have.” I swallowed heavily and stared at his lips. Fuck, I wanted that kiss. Maybe it should be me begging for it after everything I’d said and done. “Jonah, I?—”
“Bed?”
We both spoke at the same time, then froze. A moment passed, then another—honey thick and slightly awkward.
