Page 107 of Breaking the Ice

“Differently how?” Zach knew he should get up and clean them up, but he didn’t think he could move until he heard Gavin’s answer. Maybe he shouldn’t be testing Gavin, but there was a part of him thatneededto, because he couldn’t go back again, not after what they’d just done.

Gavin knew exactly what Zach was asking.Are you going to do this tonight and in the morning tell me you regret it? That it’s not happening, all over again?

He picked his words carefully. “I should never have kissed you and then claimed after that nothing had changed. Honestly, Ishouldn’t have told you nothing had changed after the night wealmostkissed. I freaked out, and that wasn’t fair to you.”

“Was it fair to you?” Zach wanted to know.

Gavin should’ve known that Zach would be like this, because he’d always asked the tough questions. Didn’t let things slide. Went after what he wanted with a single-minded focus Gavin had always admired.

“No, it wasn’t. But that wouldn’t be the first time,” Gavin said wryly. “At least according to my therapist.”

“Well, stop that,” Zach joked, nudging him with his shoulder.

“I’m . . .I’m trying,” Gavin promised.

Zach pulled himself up, but Gavin reached out before he could think it through, held onto his arm. He didn’t want Zach to go, even to the bathroom, until he was sure Zach understood what he was trying to say.

Until Zachbelievedit.

“Hey,” Gavin continued in a low voice, “Idowant to do this again. I want to do this lots of times. And all the other stuff too. The breakfasts and the lunches and the late night tape watching. Falling asleep on you, on my couch. Phone calls every night.”

Zach smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah? Good. Cause I want to, too. But I don’t think we’re going to need the late night phone calls, anymore, G.”

He got up and went to the bathroom.

Zach had said something along those lines before they’d had sex.Cute you think you’re going to have any nights alone after this.Gavin’s heart had hiccupped when he’d heard that.

He knew Zach meant it. Zach meant it all, it was obvious from the way he gazed down at Gavin, like he was something precious and special that was worth waiting for.

And he wanted Zach to know the reverse was true, too.

He wasn’t letting Zach go. Not this time.

A minute later, Zach returned with a damp washcloth, but he didn’t hand it over. Instead he leaned over Gavin’s body, cleaning his chest and his stomach himself, gently wiping away all the evidence they’d finally done this.

Gavin was almost sad until he realized that maybe that had been the first time, but they had an infinite number after this.

Maybe that was too serious of a thought, but he didn’t know how Zach could think this was casual for him.

After tossing the washcloth in a hamper by the door, Zach resettled in bed, tugging Gavin over until his face was resting against Zach’s bicep.

Gavin curled his fingers into the golden trail of hair leading down to Zach’s soft cock. Saw it twitch a little and felt an echo of heat pulse through him.

But before they went at it again, he still felt like he had things to say. An understanding they needed to come to.

“I’m in this,” Gavin said quietly, “but I can’t say I’m always going to be perfect at it.”

Zach chuckled. “Don’t need you to be perfect. Just need you to beyou. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“Since Michigan?”

Zach tensed a little, and then he turned, looking Gavin square in the eye. “If we’re being honest, no.”

“Since I came back to Portland?”

Zach sighed. “Don’t freak out. But I had like an enormous fucking crush on you before, when I was in college. I wouldn’t have done a thing about it. Was more embarrassed about it than anything else, if I was being honest, but I don’t want to pretend. Not anymore.”

Gavin deliberately didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the past, for obvious reasons. But he still cast his mind back now, remembering how Zach had been during the two years he’d coached him in college. Zach, an eager and sweet eighteen-year-old puppy of a guy, who worked hard, who never told Gavin that he couldn’t do something.