Page 25

TWENTY-THREE

CHARLIE

Sheer panic—the kind that makes you start to sweat instantly—can make you do stupid shit.

Nikolay just lied to me.

I’m pretty sure it’s the first time since he stopped hating me, because I’ve never seen him twist his mouth the way he did when he told me about his tradition with Bear.

He’d for sure suck at poker.

But why did he feel the need to lie?

We’ve gotten good at being together twenty-four seven over the past two weeks, so what changed today?

Or has he been pretending?

The thought is mortifying.

In any case, he might be out for a couple of hours, maybe more, so for my own sanity, I need to find something to do with myself.

I put on the washing machine, adding Nikolay’s clothes from the suitcase and duffel he left by the entrance, and feel like a fool. Like I’m just now realizing I’m being made fun of.

Could that be it?

I guess it’s possible he’s been making fun of me behind my back this whole time, but...

No. I know that can’t be right.

The few serious—maybe even sentimental—moments we’ve had since we were benched couldn’t have been fakes. Not unless he’s Meryl-Streep-good at acting. All those times we’ve celebrated a goal or a win on the ice. Every heated glance after I took a shower or he did while we were in our hotel rooms... I’m sure those were real.

Once the clean-up is as good as it’s going to get, I decide to shower off the travel, and once I’m under the spray my hand automatically goes to my hardening dick.

Pavlov’s dog , I think, remembering that conversation Nikolay had with Benny at the start of the roadie. I’ve become like Pavlov’s dog when it comes to showers.

The bathroom has become the only real place for privacy. Of course, now that we’re home for a solid week we each have our rooms, but it seems my body got used to jacking off in the shower very quickly.

I imagine what it would be like to sink into him, looming over him while we’re in bed, his kisses driving me to the brink, and when I know I’m about to come, the image of him thrusting into me comes into my mind.

If the way the orgasm has my body bursting with heat and my arms twitching is any indication, my psyche is excited about the prospect of having a dick in my ass.

Though, since I’ve seen Nikolay naked—because sometimes you can’t avoid it in the locker room or the showers at an arena no matter how hard you try to look away—I doubt my first time receiving anal would be exactly comfortable with him... And if it turns out he’s a grower as well as a shower then I might be fucked.

Literally and metaphorically.

I don’t think I’d want anyone else, though, considering I’ve never been attracted to a man before, and I haven’t thought about anyone else—man or woman—in a sexual way since I first kissed him.

The panic, though, comes right back with a vengeance as soon as I’m out of the shower and the bliss from the orgasm fades. It has me springing into action again, but this time to get some clothes on. Once I’m dressed, I haul ass to Michelle and Kelly’s house.

I don’t feel like this is a conversation I can have with Uncle Enzo—talking about kissing a man with him was fine, but talking about having sex with anyone is out of the question.

I could technically talk to Finn about it, but he still thinks I’m suffering over Nikolay’s animosity because I haven’t had the time— okay, I haven’t taken the time —to catch him up.

In his straightforward way, I bet he’d be great about it. He’d make sure it wouldn’t be too awkward, but I’ve got a deep sense of dread and urgency spurring my movements, not logic, so off to my neighbors’ house I go.

“Hey Charlie,” Kelly says brightly as soon as their front door is open. “You guys were ah -mazing against Detroit,” she cheers with a little cry, but when she gets a good look at me, her face falls and her hand goes to her chest dramatically. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I need help.”

“Okay, sweetie, come in, come in.” She pulls me by the arms and drags me to the kitchen. “Sit. Let me just make you a hot cocoa, and you can tell me all about it.”

“What’s up?” Michelle asks as soon as she comes in.

“Charlie’s freaking out about something,” Kelly says in a soothing tone, as if she were scared of spooking me.

Michelle, in her own way, turns sharply toward me, her eyes boring into me and... searching. She walks over determinedly and pushes me to sit at their dining table, then takes the chair next to mine.

“What happened?” she asks, with a seriousness that betrays the fact that she’s ready to take any issue into her own hands. My body deflates then, and I pat her hand in thanks.

“No one did anything to me,” I assure her. Her only response is narrowed eyes. “I promise,” I say like a vow, then let out a sigh and sit back. “I need help—fuck, advice. I don’t know, I just need?—”

“You need someone to talk to,” Kelly says, walking over with three mugs that have steam coming out of them. The tantalizing smell is everything I didn’t know I needed at this moment. I see she added six tiny marshmallows for each of us.

“Thank you,” I whisper as I reach for my mug. “And yes, I just need someone to talk to, and you guys are my closest friends here, so...”

I trail off, hoping that didn’t sound insulting, because I didn’t mean it to. I consider myself lucky they ever bothered with me in the first place.

Inviting me to their show more than a few times since I’ve been here, going to my games whenever they’ve been able to and cheering on me from the stands... they really are great supporters.

I realize at that moment that I haven’t told them any of this, and if my head wasn’t such a mess I would do it right now, but I do promise myself that I’ll tell them soon.

“We’re here,” Michelle says, her gaze steady and sharp, her hand still holding mine.

Kelly nods, her small smile tender. “You go ahead and start talking, sweetie. It looks like you need it.” I snort at her honesty.

“Two weeks ago I kissed a man for the first time in my life.”

Both react the same way. Leaning in, eyebrows well into their foreheads, and mouths slightly parted. I guess that means I should keep talking?

“I’m pretty sure he’d never kissed a man either,” I start slowly, thinking about every word before saying it. “Then he kissed me back a day later. And it was...” How do I even explain that kiss?

“Yes?” Kelly asks, eyes alight.

“It was awesome,” I admit and look down. “It was possibly the best kiss of my life and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, but then I went away for the roadie and I figured...” I pause to think more carefully, but then I sigh and give them just enough information so they’ll understand the situation. “You guys know I got benched, and that’s a whole other story.”

“But you were put back in,” Michelle reminds me, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. I don’t blame her, I know I’m not making a lot of sense to them.

“Yes.” I nod. “And right now, even though I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss, now that I’m back, it feels like I should do something about it, you know? But I’m still on thin ice when it comes to my spot on the team, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

“Have you talked to him?”

I take a moment to debate whether I’m really about to tell them... but no. I can’t.

“Yeah, we’ve been talking while I was away,” I hedge.

I feel like shit for how I phrased that because it’s pretty much a lie, but I also know outing people is a serious business, and in my book, a big no-no.

I have no clue how Nikolay would want me to handle this, but I can’t tell them who it is unless I do.

“What have you been talking about?” Kelly asks, and leans her chin on her closed fist, looking as locked into the conversation as humanly possible.

“Mostly hockey,” I admit. That’s not technically a lie.

“So you want to kiss him again and maybe do more?” Michelle surmises.

“Yes, definitely more,” I can’t help but agree vehemently.

“Do you really think he’d be such a distraction?” Michelle’s still frowning. “I mean, you’ve been amazing the last few games. Even against fucking Boston.”

“But what if he’s different now that I’m here?” I ask desperately.

“What if it’s not?” Kelly offers with a soft smile. “What if you keep getting shit done at work and then let yourself find out what could be outside of it?”

Like a lightbulb coming on in my brain, her words give me the best way to approach things with Nikolay.

“Thank you,” I tell them urgently and stand. I’m walking out of the room before I remember my manners. “You guys are the best and I promise to come back to take you up on that hot cocoa.”

“And to tell us what happens,” Michelle shouts, but I’m already running out the door.

I see headlights illuminate the front windows sooner than I thought, and I’m not ready yet, but I guess having twenty more minutes before we eat will be good.

I might be delusional thinking we can get the conversation over within that small time frame, but it’s not impossible, is it?

Standing by the sink in the kitchen, I hear the front door open, then close with a harder bang than normal, and I have to press a hand to my stomach because the nerves are alive and well, wreaking havoc in there.

He comes in, face set in a stubborn, hard expression, and I feel suddenly lightheaded, but that feeling has never stopped me on the ice when I need to keep pushing, and it doesn’t stop me now.

“We—”

“We need to talk,” he interrupts me, saying the exact same words I was about to. My mouth hangs open as he takes three more steps and stops at the opening between the island and the counter. “I know I said all those things about us having to focus on the team and all that,” he starts rambling, and I realize when I look more closely that he seems nervous.

He’s pacing then... three feet to the left, then back.

“But fucking hell, Charlie, there’s no way I can forget about that kiss.”

His eyes meet mine for only a fraction of a second, and though I want to tell him I’m on the same page, he just keeps talking.

“I went to Bear’s to talk about all of it. I’d told him about the kiss before.” This time, when he looks over, he must see my bug-eyed stare because... does that mean Bear’s known about it since it happened? “No,” he shouts and his feet finally stop. “I didn’t tell him it was a kiss with you, just that a man had kissed me. And so he knew, and I just wanted his advice on what to do now, how to approach this, because I’m pretty sure I’m the first man you’ve kissed... I am, right?” he asks with a fierce scowl. One of the ones he uses on the ice.

“You are,” I confirm quickly.

“Okay. And you’re the first man I’ve kissed just the same. So I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do now. And then Drew just said talk to him, and I realized...” He takes a huge breath, and this time, when his eyes land on mine they don’t move. “I have no fucking clue what the rules of the NHL are for this kind of... thing. I doubt there even are rules because fuckers probably never imagined something like this could happen. They probably never anticipated two players would... get involved,” he settles on after hesitating.

“I know the risks, believe me. I’ve been reminding myself of them this whole time. But the way it felt to kiss you, Charlie.” He shakes his head and looks away for only a moment before continuing. “We’ve been playing like legends these past few games. And when we’re out on the ice we... talk. About everything. Everything except those kisses. But I still feel like I can talk to you about anything and you’ll understand .

“Even though it feels wrong to not tell the guys that you’re the man I kissed, I really don’t have a problem with that lie as long as I get to do it again, Charlie.” There’s a desperate need I understand all too well in his eyes. “I feel like we’re actually becoming friends and not just teammates. And yes, maybe it’s the fact that we’ve barely spent a second apart, but I don’t think that’s it. Just a while ago, when I was at Bear’s place and I understood I had to come here and talk to you to regain any kind of peace, I couldn’t wait to come back. I realized that even if you tell me no, even if you don’t ever want to kiss me again, all I need right now is to keep talking to you.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s about hockey, about the team, about your family, or even if you decide it’s time to do what Gab asked and talk me into retirement. Hell, it could even be about the kiss—kisses, whatever. I just wanted to get back here and talk to you and yes, kiss you maybe, and just...”

He trails off, and it takes me about a millisecond to decide he’s said enough. I walk up to him, and in three quick strides my body’s pressed to his, I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, and then fucking finally , his lips are back where they belong.