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“Good to see you,” Gavin said, depositing the bag of sandwiches on the desk next to Zach’s laptop. “You two catching up?”

“Yeah, Monty’s on a shitty road trip,” Zach said.

“Like an eight fucking day road trip,” Hayes complained.

“Sucks,” Gavin said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty worn out but . . .” Hayes’ lips curled into a grin. “Not too worn out to make a detour up to Portland if I need to.”

“Ugh, Monty,” Zach groaned.

But Gavin just smiled. “I get it. If I was on the other side, I’d absolutely come kick my ass if I screwed up again.”

Hayes nodded firmly. “Glad you understand the score, Coach. ”

“I’m not going to screw up again, though,” Gavin said earnestly. “Not if I can help it.”

“Hmmm.” Hayes didn’t sound won over yet, though. “Guess that means if you ‘accidentally’ screw up then I can ‘accidentally’ kick your ass?”

Gavin laughed, for real then. “Sure. Why not.”

“Monty thinks he’s a real goon, now. With his whole three NHL fights,” Zach joked.

“And how many did you have?” Gavin asked, looking delighted. Zach was probably gazing at him like he was wildly, crazily in love.

Which he was. No question.

“More than three,” Zach said wryly. He’d gotten into more than his share. Usually because some opposing player was shitty to Hayes and he wasn’t going to stand back and let any of that crap go.

“But you’re built for that, baby,” Gavin teased, patting his bicep.

Zach flushed.

Hayes made an obnoxious cooing noise in the back of his throat. “You two are adorable. I’m happy for you, really. Now go have your lunch date, I’ve got lunch too. Not a date, so I’ll try not to cry into my turkey club.”

After Hayes had hung up, and Zach was opening the Sammy’s bag, spreading out the paper-wrapped sandwiches on the desk, Gavin asked, “He didn’t really mean that, did he?”

“About crying into his turkey club?” Zach asked, reaching into the mini fridge behind his desk and grabbing a can of Diet Coke for Gavin—that he’d started stocking just for him—and a bottle of water for himself.

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “Is he okay? He looked exhausted.”

“Dregs of the season. You know how it is.” But Zach couldn’t say he wasn’t worried. That he wasn’t always worried, in some way, about Hayes.

“Yeah, still. He’s . . .it’s not going to make him feel worse, to hear about us together?” Gavin asked, as he picked up half of his ham and cheddar sandwich.

“He’s happy for us,” Zach said. He wondered if that ecstatic thrill that they were an us would ever stop cascading through him.

Gavin cracked his Diet Coke open. “I didn’t think he wasn’t.”

“I just wish he’d decide it’s time to move on,” Zach confessed. “Morgan isn’t going to miraculously become not an asshole.”

“I don’t know, he’s trying pretty hard with Finn these days to keep that shit at least under wraps,” Gavin pointed out. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but I’ve seen it. Even watched him getting along with Braun, like they might actually be friends. I’m just saying crazier things have happened.”

“Don’t tell Hayes that,” Zach said morosely.

“I wouldn’t,” Gavin said, expression earnest. “I can’t say he and I get along all that great, but maybe I should—”

“Oh my God, G, no ,” Zach said and suddenly he was laughing. Not because it would be funny, but because of how catastrophic the dumpster fire would be. “ Nobody knows. Just them and us. Can you imagine how much he’d freak out if you knew he’d fucked Hayes Montgomery five years ago. ”

“Might get him out of his head, to scare him like that,” Gavin muttered.

Zach grinned. “You’re so evil. I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“God, I love you ,” Zach said, and he realized what he’d said only after Gavin’s eyes went wide.

And surely it couldn’t have been that much of a surprise?

He’d said it before, during their dinner date.

He hadn’t intended to say it again, but it had just popped out of Zach’s mouth because it was such a part of him now, had been practically since the day he’d shown up here in Portland, that it almost didn’t even make sense to not say it, though he had been trying to keep those three words under wraps not to freak Gavin out.

“Oh, um, yes,” Gavin said awkwardly.

Here was the thing: it was almost impossible to be mad that Gavin didn’t say it back right now, because of Gavin’s history, and how long and hard he’d resisted dating again.

He wouldn’t love again easily. But he would . Zach believed that with every fiber of his being.

After all, G had said it best himself; he’d dated two people ever. His wife, and Zach.

“Sorry if you . . .uh . . .didn’t want to hear that again,” Zach said, trying for chill and ending up somewhere else.

Gavin cleared his throat and set his sandwich down. “Not at all, Zach. I just . . .”

“I get it,” Zach said, putting a hand on Gavin’s arm and squeezing. “I really get it.”

Gavin didn’t say anything .

“I can be patient. I just wasn’t before, because you clearly wanted this as much as I did, and you kept pretending you didn’t.

That was frustrating, and I couldn’t do it forever.

But waiting for you to get comfortable, while I have you?

In my bed and next to me while we eat lunch and across from me at the dinner table?

That’s a no-brainer. I’m there and I’m happy to be, as long as you need me. ”

Gavin swallowed hard. “You mean that.”

“I said it, before. I can say it again. That’s why I don’t mind being patient. Waiting until you’re ready.”

“I . . .” Gavin winced. “Is it selfish to ask you to do that?”

“Is it selfish to expect you need more than ten days of time after we get together to love me?” Zach laughed and shook his head.

Gavin cracked a smile then, too, and something deep that had tensed inside Zach relaxed again.

“Maybe not to actually feel it,” Gavin said softly. “Maybe to accept it. To say it.”

They hadn’t done this at the rink, but Zach couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed Gavin briefly, tasting the honey mustard from his sandwich.

“Well . . .uh,” Gavin said eloquently when he pulled back. “Should we talk about the power play?”

Zach laughed. “Do you really want to?”

Gavin made a face. “I really don’t want to, but I think we’ve got to.”

“You know how I feel about it,” Zach said. He hadn’t made a secret of his opinion, and maybe Monty was right, it wasn’t his responsibility to merely parrot back Gavin’s opinions, but to challenge them.

Gavin had never struck him as someone who wanted a yes-man around him.

“I want to move Mal to the second unit,” Gavin said.

“Don’t do it,” Zach said. “Putting a good winger on that unit isn’t going to make any fucking difference, and it’s going to piss them all off.”

Gavin looked like he wanted to argue. He just picked at his sandwich, instead. “We need to do something. I knew it was a problem when the first line was scoring, but now that they’re not, it’s blatant there’s a gap in our game.”

“It’s just a slump,” Zach said. He’d been avoiding saying that word, but it was impossible not to call a spade a spade right now. Not when G was right, and it was staring them in the face. Continuing to deny it only made it harder to deal with.

“I know, but how do we fix it?” Gavin asked in a frustrated voice as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think you can, G,” Zach said gently. “They gotta sort themselves out. They’re taking the shots. They’ve got good puck movement, good angles. At some point one’s just gonna go in.”

“Hopefully more than one,” Gavin grumbled.

“Okay, more than one,” Zach promised.

“You really don’t think I should move Mal to the second power play?”

“If you want Elliott to freak out, sure,” Zach said. “And then Elliott’s not focused on scoring, he’s focused on how Malcolm’s not on the ice with him. ”

Gavin’s lips pursed. “He’s very possibly going to have to get used to that, anyway.”

“He knows it, or at least he acknowledges it in the back of his mind. Does he think about it? I doubt it, and you know what? He shouldn’t be thinking about it. He should be focused on this year .”

“I’m just saying,” Gavin said. “He can’t always be good only when Malcolm’s playing on his line.”

“That’s a conversation for whoever drafts him,” Zach said bluntly.

He wasn’t trying to be cold about it, but that was the truth.

And if things shook out the way they were looking, it was very possible Elliott would end up back with Mal, and other than yearly trade rumors, they’d never have to worry about it.

Gavin sighed. “I still think we should try it. At least for the power play in the next game.”

“If you’re gonna do it, you’ve got to do it now, so we can spend the next few days working on the new configuration during practice,” Zach warned.

“Not a few days so Elliott can get his drama queen act out of the way?” The corner of Gavin’s mouth quirked up. “I suppose you think I should be the one to tell Mal.”

Zach nearly said, it’s your team and your idea, so yeah, I’m gonna let you take this one.

But the more he thought about it, the more he knew it should be him.

“Actually no. I’ll do it.”

Gavin looked shocked. “Really?”

“I’m in charge of special teams,” Zach said .

“But it’s—”

“Yeah, it is your idea, and I fully expect you to concede it was a bad idea when it doesn’t help,” Zach said.

“You’re angry with me,” Gavin said, a crease forming between his dark brows.

“No. No. Not like . . .” Zach huffed. “Not like you think. Do I think you’re wrong?

Yeah. But I want you to know I’d be saying this regardless of what’s going on between us.

It’s not . . .it’s not personal. I’m not angry with you , G.

Obviously I’m frustrated too, with our lack of scoring depth. I want to fix it, too.”

“Okay.” Gavin nudged him with his foot. “As long as you’re not gonna punish me.” He flushed bright red then, and oh yeah, he could be into that.

Zach might be into that.

“I mean, not like that ,” Zach teased. He heard how low and rough his voice sounded. “Definitely not the ‘banishing you from my bed’ kind of punishment, anyway.”