He wouldn’t remember it anyway. Not really. And not for long when he did. It had been a week since he’d had any idea who I was, and I didn’t bother trying to remind him when I wentto see him. He called me at least seven different names, and it was easier to go with it.
The only person he ever asked for was my mom, and all we could do was tell him she was on her way. But it did make me hate her a little more each time I heard the lost note in his voice, wondering why he was there alone.
I doubted I’d ever see her again, but if I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Letting out a sharp breath, I turned the corner, then froze when my phone began to buzz in my pocket.
“Alexio calling…”
I picked up. “Babe. Aren’t you about to hit the ice?” I actually had no idea what time it was, but I knew his game had to start soon.
“I have a few minutes. I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a weird day.”
I frowned, leaning against the wall. God, I wished I were there. “Yeah? Can I help?”
“Just this,” he told me softly. “This is all I need.” He was quiet for a second, then cleared his throat and said, “Can I sleep over tonight?”
I scoffed. “If you don’t sleep over and fuck my ass in every room of my apartment, we are breaking up.”
He burst into laughter. “My slutty little goalie.”
“Only for you,” I told him with a grin. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
His laughter died down and ended on a sigh. “Yeah. I think I’m just…I don’t know…starting to realize that my seasons are winding down. I don’t know if I’m going to stick around to watch Boston get better.”
“Babe…”
“No. It’s not me being self-deprecating or anything like that. I’m just feeling old, you know? Half the fucking veterans onthis team are still in their twenties. And it’s a little weird that I can literally hear my joints popping when I get out of bed in the morning. That’s not supposed to happen for another ten years.”
Bowing my head, I felt an ache to pull him into my arms. I understood, of course. I had just turned thirty, but my body felt decades older sometimes. I wasn’t ready to retire yet. That was so far off, but dear god, sometimes it felt like the years were racing by.
“Well, after everyone leaves tonight, I’ll make you feel very young and spry.”
“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that,” he murmured, “but I’m looking forward to you showing me.”
“I’m gonna buy spicy lube.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Oh, I’m on my way right now. I’m going to traumatize some poor clerk by asking him to find it for me.”
“Christ,” he said, then muttered curses in Greek which I loved hearing even if I couldn’t understand them. There was something about reducing him down to his other languages that I was kind of obsessed with. I was pretty sure he did it on purpose after he noticed how much I liked it—and how it got my dick hard. But I wasn’t complaining. He sighed out another heavy breath. “I miss you.”
“I know, but I’m just gonna get my dad settled, and then I’ll be by to catch the end of your game.”
“Alright. I l—uh.” He stopped, but I heard the words. Neither one of us felt ready to say them, even if they lived in our chests. I think we were both afraid it was too soon—that if we rushed, it was all going to come crashing down.
But it was getting harder and harder to hold back.
“Me too,” I whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” I pressed the phone to my ear hard and fought the urge to say fuck it to the entire afternoon and rush down there to kiss the shit out of him before the game. “I need to run, but I’ll be there in a few hours. Do good hockey, babe.”
“I will.”
His words sounded a lot like a lie. They were playing Denver at home tonight, and it was going to be a fucking massacre. But I didn’t think Alexio much cared. His season was over, and in a few weeks, mine would be too.
