Page 31

LUKE

There are very few things that make me happier than waking up well-rested, sex-wrung, and cozy next to a smoking hot guy. I’m wrapped around Erik, my head is on his chest, and his irresistible scent is filling the room.

So yeah, I’m in heaven.

Jet lag woke me up far too early, so I waste some time on my phone until I hear Erik stir. I turn to him, and he rolls over.

He blinks, and a tiny smile creeps across his lips. “Hey.”

“Morning.” I yawn, cutting myself off. “You sleep okay?”

Erik murmurs a noise of agreement and pulls me close with a strong hand. My face collides gently with his chest, and I let out a contented sigh.

“I fucking missed this,” I say.

“Same here.”

We’re both silent for a bit, neither of us awake enough to engage in any meaningful conversation, but we’re interrupted by a sharp knock. Erik heaves himself out of bed, leaving a warm indent behind for me to occupy, and drags his feet to the door.

“Silja came downstairs and dropped off breakfast,” he says, returning with a bag. “Were she and Nils nice to you last night?”

“Yup, they’re great. I didn’t talk to Nils as much, but Silja’s super fun.”

“Awesome. They’re my best friends here.” Erik pauses, setting the breakfast on the dining table. “They both like to chirp the hell out of me for, uh, certain things, though.”

I’m guessing that means they chirp him about me , so I nod instead of replying. Our conversation needs to happen sooner rather than later. We’ve both put it off for far too long, but at least that gave me time to think things through.

But this sure isn’t a pre-coffee conversation, so I shiver and dart over to the coffee maker. I fill it with water and slip a pod in before turning to face Erik, who looks away sheepishly.

“It’s fine, Erik. You’re allowed to stare,” I say. For added effect, I slip the waistband of my pajama pants down a little, making him clear his throat. Laughing, I turn back to the coffee maker and make two cups, bringing them back to the table after they’re done brewing.

Once I settle into a chair, Erik slips a hand over and strokes my thumb, the firm touch grounding and comfortable, and it helps me to prepare for what’s to come.

“There’s something on my mind,” I finally say.

“Yeah, same here.”

There’s a beat of silence, and since I started this, I’ll be the one to continue. “Okay, I’m about to drop some serious shit on you, just giving you a heads up.”

He nods, and I gulp a lungful of air.

“I like you too much to leave you behind. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my mind.” My voice is steady, but cracks form at the edges of every word. Erik sits there, silent, stunned, and staring at me.

My stomach turns. Did I misread him? Did I say too much?

His gaze shifts, soft and conflicted.

“I know that’s inconvenient, Erik, but I said what I said. This isn’t just physical for me.”

“You stole the words out of my mouth, you ass,” Erik says, letting out a dry, almost painful laugh. “I got you back yesterday, and I can’t let you go.”

“This is new to me. It’s freaking me out.”

“Yeah, same here.” He breaks eye contact, and I find myself smiling.

“Okay.” I pause to collect myself. “We can sit here going on and on about how much we like each other, or we can do something about it. What’ll it be?”

“Let’s do something.”

“Sounds good.” I straighten up. “Here’s a suggestion: we get together for real, given that we’re both disastrously head over heels for each other, and we do long distance.”

Erik hesitates, biting his upper lip. “What would that do?” he asks, and I cling to the fact that he didn’t immediately shoot the idea down. “I’m living in Sweden long-term, and you’re Canadian.”

“That’s true, but I have a passport.” My next words, ones that have been in the back of my mind for a while, catch briefly at the tip of my tongue. The hesitation is inconvenient, but I need these few seconds to brace myself. “I’ll move to Sweden.”

Who knew that four words with such a hard implementation would roll off my tongue that easily? For the first time ever, I might do something about someone moving away, rather than staying put.

Erik blinks, not saying a word. I tilt my head, begging him to break the silence, ideally with a “yes, please move,” or something along those lines.

“You would move?” he finally says.

“Hell yeah. I mean, I’ll have to research exactly how I’d move here, but I’m sure there’s a way.”

“What about your job?”

My response is immediate. “I think I can work from anywhere as long as I have a visa or something. I was hired in the US and my company lets me work from Canada, so it should be possible for me to transfer my job here.”

Erik clasps his hands together. “But what if we break up?”

I must be making one hell of a pained face because Erik brings his other hand to mine and gives me a tight grip. We haven’t agreed to be together yet, but my stomach is already quaking at the thought of breaking up with him.

“It’s not like I’d be trapped here,” I say. “I could always go home whenever.”

Erik’s mouth is still tight, so I cut to the chase.

“I’m gonna be real with you. There isn’t much left for me in Toronto.

All my friends have left, and I’m lonely as hell.

I’ve been thinking about living somewhere else for a long time, since before I met you.

” I keep my tone measured and my head held up, and Erik’s expression softens.

“Need any more reassurance?” I ask, humor creeping into my tone.

“Nope, I got nothing.” Erik chuckles. “Does this mean we’re together now?”

My heart flips as soon as those words leave his mouth. “Yeah. If we’re both on board, then we’re together.”

Erik parts his lips, his eyes hooded and a cute smirk plastered on his face. “So we’re boyfriends.”

And then his mouth is on mine, slow, deep, and so right. I run my hand along his stubbled jaw, savoring the texture beneath my fingertips as our tongues roll lazily along each other.

“Boyfriend has a nice ring to it, no?” I ask, pulling back. Erik nods twice before pressing his lips to mine again and cupping my neck with a firm hand. This kiss means something, and hell if I don’t want more of it. So much more.

Erik’s rumbling stomach reminds us that we haven’t started eating our food yet, so we detach from each other and dig in.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to run from it anymore,” he says between mouthfuls.

“Run from what?”

“Liking the hell out of you. I’ve been a mess ever since I left Toronto, but now we’re together, I’m feeling so much better.”

I take a break from eating my meat-filled breakfast bowl and rest my head on my folded hands. “Now you stole the words out of my mouth.”

We finish breakfast, then lounge around, not doing much at all, but Erik’s phone pings.

“Do you want to hang out with Nils and Silja today?” he asks. “They live in the same building, so we can plan something together.”

I nod, Erik replies to the text, and then he takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. The front door opens, I give him a firm squeeze, and we exchange a quick nod.

Our hands stay locked together.

A gasp comes from the door. It’s Nils. Silja, who’s standing behind him, pokes her head around to see why, and she breaks into a smile.

“Are you guys…” Nils points between the two of us.

“Yeah.” Erik and I speak at the same time.

“We’re together,” I say.

Nils launches himself into the apartment and hugs both of us, almost tipping the couch over. “Fucking finally. I’m so happy for you guys!” He untangles himself from us and Silja walks up.

“There’s more, though,” I say, and the two of them freeze. “I’m gonna move here.”

Nils pumps his fist. “Hell yeah! What’s that saying? Love wins?”

“That’s not how you’re supposed to use it, but sure,” Silja says, giving Nils’s shoulder a gentle slap. “Anyway, Luke, that’s amazing. You haven't seen much of Stockholm since you got here, have you?”

I shake my head.

Nils lights up. “Ooh, this is so exciting! Let’s take you on a tour of your new home.”

“I’m so down, let’s do it.” Silja pulls her phone out. “I’ll make a plan. Let’s hit Gamla Stan first and then we can go from there.”

“Hold up,” Erik says. “Luke, you should think about how cold it is before agreeing to anything outdoors.”

A quick check of my phone confirms that it’s well above freezing. “It’s not bad outside. Let’s hit the road.”

“Fucking Canadians,” Erik mutters. “You’re all crazy.”

I snicker. “Aww, is the big strong ice hockey player afraid of a little ice?” I go to give Erik a condescending hug, but he kisses me instead.

That’s one way to shut me up, and I don’t mind it. Not at all.

Nils and Silja head back to their place to get coats while Erik and I bundle up. Erik more so than me—I stop at a sensible jacket and a sweater underneath, and Erik puts on two more layers, a coat, and a scarf.

I have to admit, he’s sexy as hell even when he’s covered up, and the blue scarf brings out his eyes like nothing else. Still, I keep teasing him.

“You’re gonna be cold, Luke,” mutters Erik. “You need to dress properly. Bad weather doesn’t exist, only bad clothes.”

Letting out a scoff, I turn to face him. “The weather isn’t even bad, you’re just weak.” The sun is shining, there’s no horrible wind, and the air smells fresh. It’s beautiful.

Erik grumbles, but his soft smile betrays the act. “Come on, let’s explore Stockholm,” he says as Nils and Silja walk out of the building. “You’re going to love it, even though it’s cold as hell.”

Erik is right, and I do love Stockholm. All the pictures Erik sent me over the months don’t do the city justice, and the vibes are simply unmatched.

As planned, we start the mini tour in Gamla Stan, the old city, where we wander around before dragging Erik onto a ferry so we can get a better view from the water.

We do a ton of walking, go to a couple of museums, and I manage to fight jet lag.