Page 119 of Puck Me Back to Life

I gently stop him before our lips meet.

His expression immediately falls.

I rest my forehead lightly against his. “Not tonight.”

His eyebrows knit together. “You don't...”

I kiss his nose. “It's not that.” I smile softly. “I just think you need something different tonight.”

He searches my face.

“I'm not going anywhere.” My thumb brushes gently across his cheek. “Let me take care of you for a little while.”

The tension in his shoulders loosens.

Just a fraction.

Then he nods. “Okay.”

I stand, keeping one arm around him until we're both balanced. Then I stretch out along the couch and pat the space above me.

“Come here.”

Kai gives me a sleepy, confused look. “You want me to…?”

“Mhm.”

Without another word, he carefully settles on top of me. His head comes to rest over my chest while one of my arms naturally circles his back.

He exhales.

The sound almost resembles relief.

I reach for the remote and turn the volume up a little.

A few minutes pass like that. The television continues playing in the background, the broadcast shifting from commercials back to a replay of an old Raiders game. The familiar sound of skates carving into fresh ice fills the apartment before the commentators begin breaking down a defensive breakdown that led to a goal against.

Neither of us says anything for a while.

Kai's breathing gradually evens out against my chest. Every now and then I feel him sniff quietly into my shirt. I pretend not to notice.

On the screen, a Raiders defenseman pinches too aggressively along the boards. The puck squirts free into the neutral zone, and within seconds the opposing team has an odd-man rush.

The color commentator sighs. “That's just a terrible read. You can't give away the middle of the ice like that.”

Kai watches in silence until the puck ends up in the back of the net.

Then, with perfect seriousness, he mutters, “Jameson is getting walked out there.”

I blink. “What?”

He gestures weakly toward the television without lifting his head from my chest. “He got caught flat-footed three shifts in a row.”

Another replay rolls.

The winger blows past Jameson wide before slipping the puck across the slot.

Kai lets out an exhausted sigh. “He keeps chasing the puck instead of taking away the passing lane.”