Page 84 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

“Cool. There’s this place around the corner that makes a kick-ass omelet. I can show you the neighborhood a little bit too.” He sits up and drags his fingers through his hair, and I shamelessly enjoy the view of his bare chest and the way the blankets pool around his waist.

Beau grins at me, then gives me a little nudge to get me up and moving. I pull on the same clothes I borrowed from him last night—a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, both of which are just a little bit too big. I take another quick look around his apartment in the daylight, and I have to admit, it’s more him than the modern place he had in Boston, and the balcony really is pretty fucking cool. I can see us chilling out there with a couple of beers on a warm summer night, listening to the traffic and watching the sunset together. I still hate it though.

The neighborhood itself is a lot quieter than I expected when we step outside. There are cars parked up and down the street, but the sidewalks aren’t crawling with people like I thought they would be. Beau’s fingers brush against mine and I have the wild urge to reach for his hand. Would he mind? Would anyone else? Something tells me that most people wouldn’t be shocked if someone snapped a picture of the two of us holding hands and posted it all over the internet.

“There’s a Thai place right there that has fucking amazing pad thai,” he says, pointing at a little restaurant right across the street, nestled between a bookstore on one side and a coffee shop on the other. “Oh, and a few more blocks down there’s an antique store that has some really cool stuff. There’s a beat-up old upright piano that still seems like it plays okay, but it’s all scuffed up and looks like shit. I’ve been thinking about buying it so I can strip the paint, sand down all the nicks, and refinish it when I’ve got some time during the offseason. I thought it would make a great Christmas present for my mom, plus now I have a balcony where I could do all the work on it.”

“Your mom would love that.”

“The guy who runs that corner store is really nice,” he goes on, pointing out the bodega as we near the end of the block. “His son is in peewee hockey right now and is a big fan of yours. I told him I’d see about getting you to sign something for him.”

“Yeah, of course.” My throat tightens a little. It seems like Beau is really happy here. I know he misses me, but he likes the neighborhood, he likes his team, he even likes his small apartment that needs updating. It almost feels like he’s trying to sell me on all of it too. I don’t know if he just wants my approval or if it’s something more than that, but we both know it doesn’t really matter what I think. He’s here and I’m in Boston, and there’s nothing we can do about either of those things.

Except…

My stomach swoops and my heart suddenly trips over a beat as something occurs to me for the first time. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Beau stops walking and looks at me curiously, making me realize I’ve stopped in my tracks. I shake my head and start moving again, but the wheels are turning in my head now.

“This is the place.” He tilts his head and opens the door to a small restaurant that’s decorated like a fifties diner.

It’s packed, but we manage to get a table after only a few minutes of waiting. The smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee permeates the air and makes my stomach growl. Between going two rounds with Beau yesterday and the game, I think we’ve more than earned a greasy breakfast.

As soon as we sit down, the guys at a table a few feet away start nudging each other and taking turns glancing at us. I grin and tilt my head so Beau notices, and he smiles too. We order a couple of coffees and I get a big stack of pancakes with a side of eggs, and Beau gets an omelet. His foot bumps against mine under the table and I get the wild urge to reach across the table and hold his hand again, just like I did earlier.

After the waitress brings our coffee, one of the guys at the other table gets up the courage to make his move.

“Incoming,” I murmur to Beau, hiding a smile behind a sip of coffee.

His expression gets a little tighter and more uncomfortable, but he does his best to put on a brave face and endure the attention, nodding politely to the guy as he approaches our table.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you guys don’t want to be bothered while you’re eating breakfast, but I just wanted to tell you that I’m a huge fan. You two were such powerhouses together in Boston and it sucks that they split you up, but it’s also fucking cool to have Bozy here in Chicago. You’ve been playing like a beast this season, man,” he rambles. “The game last night was awesome too. It was so great to see you back on the ice together, even if you were playing against each other.”

My stomach sinks a little and I force a laugh. This isn’t as fun as it usually is, maybe because everything he’s saying is hitting way too close to home. The guy casts a hopeful look in my direction.

“Any chance you’ll become a Husky one day?”

I laugh again and that same jolt of electricity from earlier reignites inside of me. Beau answers before I can work out a diplomatic response, which is a first.

“Are you kidding? Trav would die before he’d let anyone drag him away from Boston. Thanks for all the support though; we appreciate it.”

Beau’s words hit deep in my chest. I have always said that, or at least something close to it, and I meant it. But things are different now. I love Boston; it’s been my home since the day I was born and I’ve never once considered living anywhere else.

Except… I think I love Beau more.

My pulse is thundering so loudly in my ears that I miss whatever else they’re saying until Beau nudges a napkin and a pen in front of me that already has his signature on it. I scribble my autograph and the guy walks away beaming just in time for our waitress to drop off our food.

My thoughts swirl while we eat. My contract is up at the end of this season and I’m going to be a free agent. I’ve been waiting for Boston to start talking about renewing, but I’ve been playing so shitty the past month, maybe they’re reconsidering. Maybe I don’t want to renew with them anymore, anyway. God, it’s a fucking long shot. I’m not even sure if the Huskies would want me. I’ll definitely have to kick my game back into gear if I want them to consider it.

“You’re quiet,” Beau says.

“Sorry, just in awe of how good these pancakes are,” I lie with a laugh. I don’t want to get his hopes up. Hell, I don’t want to get my hopes up either, but it might already be too late for that. Now that the idea has burrowed into my brain, I can’t think about anything other than getting home and calling my agent to see if she can get the ball rolling on the downlow.

We take our time with breakfast, neither of us in any hurry to get back to reality. But eventually time catches up with us anyway. Beau covers the bill and we head back outside, walking slower than before.

“Let’s go get my car and I’ll give you a ride to the hotel,” he says.

“Thanks, but you’d better not, unless you want me to lose my cool and shove my tongue into your mouth in front of the whole team.”

I glance around and spot a narrow alley between the restaurant and the shop next door. I grab the front of Beau’s coat and drag him into the alley so we’re out of the direct view of everyone in the restaurant and people driving by. I press him up against the brick wall and slam my mouth into his, licking inside with the same desperation I felt yesterday, the same relentless need I’ve felt every time we’ve kissed. He moans quietly against my lips and kisses me back like he’s just as reluctant to let go as I am.