Lane was going to have to figure out a time and place to say it. Hewantedto say it. Had planned, despite all his nerves, to say it last night. Had really been about to say it after, during the incredible sex, but in the end, he hadn’t wanted it to be like that.
What if Trevor thought he didn’t mean it, because he said it in the middle of his orgasm? What if he thought it was only about sex? That was the last thing Lane wanted. So instead of letting the words out, he’d bitten them back—literally bitten Trevor’s shoulder so he wouldn’t be more tempted than he already was to justsaythem.
Maybe his mom was right and saying it on the couch wouldn’t be the end of the world. Would be better thannotsaying it at all.
But then that night practice went late and then even later, because Aidan wanted to go over some more footage from the day’s scrimmage. Specifically the tight end formations, so by the time he and Trevor got home, they were both worn out.
Trevor declared he wasn’t cooking, and before Lane could even declare that they were ordering takeout, he’d plucked Lane’s phone right out of his pocket, like it was his.
Like everything that was Lane’s was his, andGod, Lane nearly blurted it right then, between Trevor muttering about chicken pad thai and beef satay skewers.
After they ate, Lane expected that they’d both slump down on the couch, barely watching whatever was playing on the TV before they staggered to bed. Only three more days before they hosted the AFC Championship game.
But instead, Trevor shot up and paced for a second before heading over to his puzzle table.
Lane swallowed back his groan.
He wasnottelling Trevor he loved him while Trevor tried to put together a one-thousand-piece Thomas Kinkade monstrosity.
He loved him, and he wanted Trevor to know just how much. He wasn’t even sure his mom was wrong, but there were moments and then there weremoments.
“Put the game on and come over here,” Trevor suggested.
“Ramsey’s in Calgary tonight—game doesn’t start for almost an hour. Actually, I’m going to watch some film,” Lane said.
Trevor shrugged. “Thought you might have had enough today, already.”
It was clearhehad, and it wasn’t like Lane could argue with that for himself, either. His brain was tired, too, but there was something teasing at the edges of his consciousness. Some kind of certainty that if he looked hard and thoroughly enough, he’d find a way for them to beat the Patriots and he and Trevor would get a chance at that kiss.
Famously, Sam Crawford and Heath Harris had been the first same-sex couple to kiss after winning the Super Bowl. They weren’t the only ones now—when the Piranhas and Condors had won, they’d had multiple couples making out on that stage, which had been hilarious, because the commissioner hadn’t seemed to knowwhereto look. Especially when the Piranhas had won their second, because the head coach and the defensive coordinator had even been locked together in a tight embrace.
But it wastheirturn.
Lane wanted it for him and Trevor. Wanted to give Aidan his second ring, because he couldn’t think of a quarterback who deserved it more.
He picked an early season game that the Patriots had played, andlost, in fact, and was almost halfway through when he felt Trevor drop down onto the couch next to him.
“Was thinking,” Trevor said.
Lane hit the Pause button and then glanced over. “Dangerous,” he teased.
Trevor rolled his eyes, but looked pleased. “I mean it. I was thinking, we should tell people. I want to tell people.”
Was it possible that Trevor thoughtLanedidn’t want to tell people? He would fucking declare their insanely perfect relationship to the skies. If Trevor gave him the chance, he’d yell about it to anyone who’d listen.
“Okay,” Lane said.
Maybe he’d understated it too much, because Trevor’s smile faded a little.
“Just . . . okay?” Trevor looked straight-up concerned now.
Lane knew he wasn’t always going to be good at this relationship thing, even when it mattered as much as this one did. Most recent evidence of that was last night’s quasi-disaster, though it wasn’t like he was batting a thousand right now, either. He forced himself to regroup and focus.
“I’ve been leaving telling people entirely up to you,” Lane said. “Everyone knows about me, but you’ve never dated a guy before. I didn’t want to overstep or to push you. If you want to tell people, I’m one hundred percent on board.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “One hundred?”
“One hundred and ten?”
