Trevor leaned back, gave Lane a very blunt look, even as his eyes were as sweet as ever, brimming with affection and an undeniable fondness. “I’m not the one who had a panic attack over telling them.”
“I . . .” Lane swallowed hard. Didn’t really want to call it that, but what else had it been? He’d never felt anxiety spike like that, before, and it did seem to fit with what he’d heard of panic attacks. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t treat me with kid gloves now,” Lane grumbled and yanked him in, none too gently, hoping that the action would mean he wouldn’t have to explain anything more.
“Like you’ve never done that to me,” Trevor mumbled into his shoulder.
“Can’t help it,” Lane admitted.
“And neither can I,” Trevor murmured back.
It was nice to sit just like this, tangled up together, no end need in mind, justenjoyingit, because now Lane could believe that Trevor wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to want to stop experimenting. He was only going to keep wanting and wanting and wanting,for real.
The third period of the game started and they shifted so Trevor could see the TV screen. “You know what this means,” Trevor said during the next commercial break, turning to Lane.
“Know what what means? The power play? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not nearly as clueless as Aidan.”
Trevor chuckled. “No, no, not the power play—though Ramsey needs to figure out their zone entries better.”
“You tell him that next time you see him,” Lane said. He’d enjoy watching that conversation go down. Trevor’s bloodgetting hot, and then getting to enjoy the end result of that all getting turned on tohim.
“I will,” Trevor said. “But what I meant was that if you want to wait to tell them, that means we’re going to need to win this game. Means we gotta keep playing if we want them to stick around.”
Lane turned to him. God, they were in a relationship now. Trevor was hisboyfriend. He might never get over that single fact. “Were you intending to lose it?”
“No, no, just . . . they’re not gonna go down easy, you know?”
“And neither are we,” Lane said, reaching out and tangling his fingers with Trevor’s, squeezing them. “Neither are we.”
Chapter 12
“Wow,thisplaceisso great.”
Delia turned around, taking in the whole apartment that they’d found for them. A sublet from an old friend of Lane’s, who’d played for a season for the Blue Jays and now rented it out to various acquaintances who also played sports or were affiliated with any professional athletes.
It had been a great find, and Trevor could see how much she liked it. It wasn’t much different from so many of the other places the guys he knew rented—not that much different than the condo that Lane owned, either. Small but well-designed, but very modern, with a lot of shiny gray and white, all windows, with all the modern conveniences.
Very different from her and his dad’s house in Arizona, but maybe different was good.
“Lane, you’re a wonder, finding this so last minute,” she said, pulling him into another quick hug again. She looked over at her husband. “Don’t you think? The rentals I found were all so dark and dingy and overpriced.”
“I keep telling you we should buy something like this here,” Trevor’s dad said, leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at her. “We need to be closer to our boys.”
“Is that why you keep trying to remodel the house?” Trevor asked, because that felt like a safer conversational topic than apparently their parents starting to spend at least a portion of every season in Toronto—or the momentary panic that had flitted across Lane’s expression when Tom had said it.
He believed that Lane wouldeventuallybe ready to tell them the truth, but until then, Trevor couldn’t fully relax, because even though their relationship had only really been developing since early January, it felt like navigating through a particularly thorny set of assumptions.
“Sure,” Tom said. “And also Delia deserves nice bathrooms, don’t you think?”
“Then God, Dad, hire a fucking contractor,” Trevor said with exasperation.
“It’s going better this time around,” Delia said staunchly. “The tile looks nice!”
Trevor knew when he eventually had to look at pictures of the tile work, because his dadwouldshow him, it would not look particularly nice.
He looked over at Lane, who just shrugged, a glimmer of a smile on his face now. They both knew how itreallylooked, but neither of them was going to be dumb enough to say anything.
