ERIK

It only takes three seconds after leaving the locker room for me to realize that Luke is drunk.

He’s not falling over himself, and he’s still coherent, but my best guess is that he and Silja had a few during the game.

Those two are acting like the best of friends, and even though Luke is way more open than I am, I’ve never seen him this chatty.

There’s also the fact that he gave me a warm, affectionate hug as soon as he saw me, before launching right into a full-scale, no-holds-barred, flirty-as-sin assault on my willpower.

And not physically. Of course, he’s doing the classic hand brushing, shoulder tapping, back rubbing routine, but that’s not what’s getting to me.

It’s his words. Compliments. Flattery. Hyping me up to nobody except for the two of us. He’s stroking my ego better than he strokes my dick when giving me one of those toe-curling blowjobs he’s so good at. All that sweet talking is making my heart grow three sizes.

My heart shouldn’t be doing anything at all, but it is, and I don’t want it to stop.

Nils slings an arm around me. “Erik, what’s wrong? Luke is here, so you should be happier.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying not to act like a fool around him.”

Silja chuckles. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Maybe you two should stop dancing around each other.”

Seriously? I sigh, not knowing how to reply.

Again, I’m not exactly blind to the fact that Luke likes me back, but the two of us can’t have anything serious with all this distance between us.

That’s not fair to Luke, so all I can do is try to resist him and keep things physical for the week he’s here.

Right when I tell myself that, Luke gives my chest a subtle pat after complimenting my sweater, flooding my body with sweet, fuzzy warmth that’s almost too comfortable to ignore.

Crushes are wild. One second, you convince yourself that you’re fine, and the next, you want nothing more than to have the other person take you apart.

Still, I shake my head and follow the rest of the team. There’s no room to be weak, not now, and not in public.

We make it to Pucken, a hockey bar a short distance from the rink. Most of my teammates order beers for themselves, but I stick with water to keep my head on straight. Luke and Silja do the same, and they’re both a little quieter now.

Nils, on the other hand, hasn’t had enough of messing with me.

“Hey, Luke,” he says when the drinks arrive, “what did you think of the goal Erik scored in the second period?”

Cutting a sip short, Luke swallows. I fixate on the jump his throat makes before getting distracted by his tongue darting out to clear some water off of his upper lip. Somehow, I manage to tear my gaze away and stare at the table, trying desperately to stop ogling him.

“Oh my god, that goal was epic,” Luke gushes.

Against my better judgement, I look back, and his face is completely lit up in a way that’s irresistible .

“Like, seriously,” he continues, “that goal was a total game changer.”

Nils stretches across the table and smirks. “Hey, he’s such a loyal fan,” he says in Swedish. “You should show some gratitude to your biggest supporter.”

I shush him. “Dude, he’s right there.”

Laughing, Nils waves me off. “I think you forgot that he doesn’t speak Swedish.”

“He might, though. He says he’s learning.”

Nils scoffs. “Oh, he’s learning? That’s so sweet, but he had zero reaction to what I said. I’ll show you.” I lock eyes with Nils, and in the gray, I catch an unmistakable, mischievous flicker.

Uh oh.

“Alright boys,” he says, turning to face the team, still addressing them in Swedish, “raise your hands if Erik should act on his obvious crush on… the guy sitting to his left!”

Jesus, way to—honestly, I don’t care anymore. I’m already embarrassed enough at myself, and at least there’s no way Luke learned enough to understand all that.

The rest of the team immediately raises their hands. Silja snickers, and Luke leans in.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Silja replies before I can. “Nils asked the team if they think Erik should have another drink.”

Luke also raises his hand, and the guys absolutely lose their shit.

Nils turns to me, smug as hell. “I told you, he doesn’t know what we’re saying.”

I glare at my beer.

“You good, Erik?” Luke asks. He’s resting his head in his palm, and then he bats his fucking eyelashes .

This isn’t fair. My ribs ache with pure want when he smiles, and I can’t do anything but give him a quick nod as a reply.

I groan. “If Luke gets any flirtier, I’m done for.”

Nils raises his drink at me. “Oh, buddy. You’re already done for. Just accept your fate. You two are so cute together, I can’t even.”

My pulse pounds in my ears as I struggle to tamp down the rising affection for Luke that’s at risk of surfacing. If I go all soft on Luke here, the team will never let me hear the end of it. In fact, they’d feed into the crush, and there are already enough people doing that.

I manage to hold my own for the next while, and then one of our defensemen, Matt, stands up and clinks his glass.

“Okay, let’s take this party to another bar!

” He’s one of the Canadians on the team, and his Swedish is passable.

The rest of the guys woot in agreement while Nils translates for Luke, and Silja makes an unnecessary show of standing up with shaky legs.

“I’m so drunk,” she says in perfect, sober English. “Nils, you need to help me get back to our place!”

Nils pretends to be shocked. “Of course. And Luke, uh, is barely standing upright. He’s so jetlagged.”

I swivel my head in Luke’s direction, only to see him paying his bill without fumbling or falling over.

“Makes sense,” Matt calls out. “We’ll catch you guys at practice on Sunday.”

The team leaves, which is when Silja makes a miraculous recovery. “Actually, I’m not that drunk. Maybe it’s my iron levels or something.” She then takes Nils’s hand and gestures to the exit.

“Alright,” Nils says, facing me and Luke. “Silja and I are gonna take a walk, but you two should rest up. See you guys later.”

And then they leave us alone.

“You good to go back to yours?” Luke asks. I expect the heat that flickers in his eyes, but what does me in is the softness that lies behind the brown, the crinkles at the corner, and the overwhelming adoration that pours through his gaze and hits me like a goddamn body check.

This man wants me. All of me, like how I want him.

When I’d known Luke for less than a month, it should have been easy for me to let go. I didn’t let go, and now I’ve known him for almost half a year. At this point, control is out of the question, and I’m done pretending that he isn’t special to me.

I grab Luke’s hand, intertwining my fingers as much as the fabric of our gloves allows me to, and squeeze. “Yeah, let’s head out.”

Guys like me are supposed to be strong, and for the most part, I am, but Luke Tremblay is the one big exception.

And when he leans his head against my shoulder, still holding my hand, I melt the rest of the way. I’m so gone for Luke, and I’ve never been so damn happy to lose a fight.

The short metro ride back to my apartment is silent, with both of our immediate priorities being very clear. For my part, I’m going to make good on my promise from earlier—Luke’s clothes are coming off the second we’re alone.

But he beats me to it. As soon as the door clicks behind us, we take our jackets off, and Luke is faster.

No sooner than I’ve hung mine up in the closet, his hands are on me, going straight for my sweater.

I help him yank it off, along with my t-shirt, and he takes a shameless second to check me out before tilting his head up and crashing his mouth against mine.

Desire and need tangle together in my core and release in a heavy moan against his lips. Luke pulls me closer, pressing our chests together, and the energy that hits me leaves me winded. My hands cup the small of his back, his are on my shoulders, and he falls onto the bed, taking me with him.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he mutters under me, turning to the side for air. I don’t have time to reply because Luke’s mouth is on mine again, and we kiss breathlessly for as long as I can hold out.

Ripping myself away from his body is an exercise in willpower, but my need for oxygen wins out against my need to make out with Luke, at least for the second he gives me to inhale.

Then Luke flips the script and flips me around, straddling my waist and keeping me down with his strong legs, his mouth never leaving mine.

Luke smiles into the kiss like an asshole—he has to know exactly what he’s doing to me, taking me apart piece by piece while his weight pushes me deeper into the mattress.

“I’m so fucking horny, Luke,” I grunt out.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

I smirk, making Luke tilt his head in confusion, before launching myself up, turning us over, and pinning his wrists above his head as he gasps through a lopsided grin. Neither of us want to actually control the other, but this little dance for dominance is a time and a half.

“Want me to make you beg tonight?” I ask, leaning into the fun.

He huffs in surprise. “Fuck yeah, you think you’re up to it?”

I don’t answer his question. “Clothes off. Now,” I order, letting his wrists go. He complies, stripping off everything.

Seeing Luke on a screen is one thing, but running my hands over him? Gliding my fingers through the neatly trimmed chest hair that covers his hard pecs? Moving down over his abs and teasing the base of his dick?

That’s something else entirely.

“Hey, this isn’t fair,” he says, his hands skimming my waist. “What do you say we take your pants off and I give you head?”

Please.

I nod, and Luke rips my belt and jeans off, palming the outline of my aching erection before taking it out. He grips it with a firm hand while he sinks to his knees, wetting his mouth and looking up at me.