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“Ayden’s pretty, gotta admit that. And you’re the same age.”

“I’m not into guys my age.”

Will hefted the saddle up onto a peg and took down another. “So tell Cross that. Keep sayin’ it. Scott had to work to convince me, at first.”

“Shouldn’t the older guy do some of the convincing too?

” Rusty wasn’t sure about being the one doing all the chasing.

What if Cross had changed his mind about getting caught?

What if dealing with an ignorant young guy with strong sexual drives was too much work?

He had the feeling Cross wasn’t good about saying no to people.

He hadn’t mentioned Willow much, but Rusty had the impression Cross had tried a lot harder to please her than the reverse.

He didn’t want to pressure Cross into a relationship.

“Sure he should. Nothing’s all one way. But sometimes with us older dudes, you gotta watch what we’re doing as much as what we’re sayin’.”

Like flying all the way out here to see me. Although that was before the sex and the talk. Rusty put his head in his hands. “Fuck. I just don’t know.”

“Only bit of advice I’ve got is talk to him. That’s kinda do what I say, not what I do , because talkin’s never been my good thing. Don’t make it wrong, though.”

“I know,” Rusty muttered into his saddle-soapy palms. “You’re right.”

Will patted his shoulder. “Finish that bridle first. Don’t leave a job half done.”

When the tack was clean, they headed out together.

At the barn door, Will stopped, his hat in hand, eyeing the sunset turning the western sky violet and gold.

“I love this ranch, and summers are the best, havin’ everyone I care about here in one place.

Winters are harder, with Scott so far away. We missed you too this year.”

“Thanks.” Knowing someone back here had missed him besides Kris was a little balm for seeing his mother notice him in the grocery store two days ago and just keep on going down the next aisle.

“Long distance is a hell of a lot easier when you’re safe and settled. The first year with Scott in the AHL was rough on Case and me. Summer saved us.”

Rusty followed Will’s gaze out across the land to the rolling hills in the distance. Most of Kansas was flat, but the wide skies gave incredible sunsets.

He looked back to find Will eyeing him, his expression warm.

“You know, I have enough summer hands with the new guys now. We’d miss you but it’d be okay, if you needed to go somewhere.

” Will set his Stetson on his head and jogged across the gravel toward the big house.

He took the front steps two at a time, his stride quickening, pulled open the door, and vanished inside.

If you needed to go somewhere.

Rusty pulled out his phone as he headed across the barnyard and down the lane. Sitting up on the rail fence of the pasture gave him an awesome shot of the sunset and he sent it to Cross.

~Wish you were here.

It was only six-thirty on the coast, so Cross might be at dinner. Or maybe back in his room, if he’d had no reason to linger. Rusty stayed put, the evening air cool on his skin, and waited.

His phone pinged. ~Me too. Physio is a sadist.

~Do you have a date for your release from jail? Cross was supposed to go home once his left leg was healed enough to really take his weight. His house wasn’t laid out for a wheelchair.

~Another week. I’m fighting with Marie about needing live in help. I’ll need a driver but I can cook my own food on crutches and wipe my own ass. It should be my call. After a moment, Cross added, ~Sorry. It’s not you I’m pissed at.

Rusty figured Cross knew Marie loved him, and there was nothing worse than being reasoned out of a snit, so he sent, ~Yeah.

Once you’re on crutches you’ll be fine. You did it with that knee thing, right?

Cross had damaged his MCL a few years back.

It was in his player bio that yes, Rusty had read, back in his it’s-just-a-crush days.

~Exactly. Right? This sucks enough without having a nursemaid in my house.

Rusty stared at the horizon, where sun-gold was turning to deep red behind the scattered trees.

Thought about “This sucks enough.”

Remembered “If you needed to go somewhere.”

He didn’t actually have the money to ditch his summer job, but maybe he could wrangle something. Maybe he should jump in with both feet.

Rusty hesitated, his finger over the screen as the sunset faded.

He didn’t want Cross to support him with his money, didn’t want to make false promises, didn’t want to live out of his fucking truck because he was too proud to admit he couldn’t afford a room.

But he wanted to be there with Cross, be the one to drive him where he needed to go and listen, if he needed to rant.

In the end he just sent, ~Want to video-watch a ball game tonight? Seattle’s playing. He checked online. ~Starts in half an hour.

Cross sent back, ~Sure. I want to hear you swear at the umpires.

~I can do that.

Calling wasn’t the same as being there, but if he could amuse Cross out of his funk, a bunch of umpires were going to get abused tonight.

He headed back to the house, pausing in the entry to listen for sounds of over-athletic fucking before venturing farther.

All seemed quiet, so he headed to the kitchen for a bottle of beer to take up to his room and his little TV.

He was surprised to find Scott there bending over the fridge, naked except for cut-off sweatpants, a red handprint visible above his sagging waistband.

Scott turned and straightened to reveal a couple of fresh hickeys on his neck and chest, and more on his lean stomach, superimposed over a mess of old playoff bruises.

Scott grinned, clearly noting the direction of Rusty’s gaze. “Casey’s inclined to treat me as fragile at this point post season. I encouraged something different.” He pulled out a couple of beers, set them on the counter and reached back in. “Something I can get you?”

“Could go for a brew.”

Scott pulled out two more, bumped the door shut with his hip, and handed a bottle over. “Is Will going to be your massage test subject?”

Rusty realized, “I forgot to ask.”

“You had one job.” Scott shrugged. “Well, two, if you count clearing the decks for me and Case. Which you did, thank you.” He picked up the three beers, then paused. “Something else on your mind?”

“It seems stupid to be on summer break, no practices, no travel, and yet here Cross and I are, two thousand miles apart. And then when the season starts, we’ll be back to trying to match up days off.”

“Long distance sucks. Are you thinking about heading back to Portland?”

“I want to. Like, wow. But I don’t have the housing allowance for the summer, and I’m not likely to find a temporary job that will cover West Coast rent.”

“Wouldn’t Cross let you stay with him?”

“I’m sure he would.” Rusty picked at the label on his beer. “That changes things, though, right? If I’m living off him. Makes it tougher to be equals, and I’m already fighting hard to seem like his match.”

“Hm. Makes sense.” Scott tilted his head.

“Listen, I have a condo in Portland that just sits empty in the summer. No way am I leaving my guys and the ranch when I don’t have to.

I was planning a couple of trips in the next two months to check on it, but if you wanted to hang out there, I wouldn’t have to worry. You could save me air fare.”

Rusty frowned. “Is that for real, or a way to make me accept a gift?”

“A bit of both.” Scott’s smile was charming, even to someone who preferred one specific older guy.

“There’s one trip in August I can’t skip.

I have some sponsor meetings with my agent.

I’d need to stay a couple of days. But I had thought I’d probably also go for a couple of days in June and July, just to make sure there were no problems. I have no problem skipping those trips if you’re there. ”

Rusty had sworn, the first time Scott offered him money last summer, that he was going to be as independent as possible.

He could be friends with the guy making three mil in salary and not be a leech or take it for granted.

The ranch job was real work. He put in the hours for the pay and his muscles told the tale.

Was the condo different from taking money for nothing?

He couldn’t afford to pay any rent that wouldn’t be peanuts to Scott. It was a ridiculous bargain he hadn’t earned.

On the other hand, if the place was sitting there empty… “You wouldn’t, like, Airbnb it?”

“A stranger in with all my things? No way.” Scott popped the cap off one of the beers and drank. “I trust you not to sell my stuff on eBay.”

“Might have to if I don’t find a job,” Rusty joked, although his stomach still felt unhappy at the idea. “Pillowcase drooled on by Scott Edison. DNA proof included.”

“Fuck you. Even though we lost, I did my laundry. Well, other than the stuff I hauled home to wash here.” Scott sucked down some more beer and pushed away from the counter.

“I need to bring these brews up before Casey comes looking for me. Let me ask around, though. Some of the guys stay in Portland for the summer. Maybe they know someone looking for help. A summer camp or driving kids around or something? You okay with kids?”

“I like kids.” Rusty kept his voice steady. He hadn’t seen his younger brothers and sisters for a year. Stevie would be seven now. There was a lot of growing up done between six and seven. Would Stevie be starting to forget him? Was he forgetting Mike? Fuck.

Scott must’ve noticed something, because he bumped Rusty’s shoulder as he went past. “You’ve got family here with us and we’ve got your back. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks.” Rusty stayed put, turning his beer around in his hands, until he heard Scott reach the top of the stairs, pad down the hallway, and go into the main bedroom.

When the door thumped shut, he made his way up to his own room, the ballgame, and a video call he hoped would be worth putting his earbuds in for, even if just to keep Cross’s occasional fond word to himself.