Page 8

LUKE

“Jeez, what time is it?” I mutter, flailing my hand while trying to turn my alarm off. It’s already seven, so I need to get home at some point to start working.

Shifting slowly to avoid waking Erik up, I shuffle underneath the covers, feeling crisp sheets everywhere.

Oh, nice. I’m buck naked in Erik’s bed.

“Morning,” Erik mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his cute, tired face.

“Hey.” I’m well aware of my morning breath, so I keep talking to a minimum and snuggle against Erik instead.

“Sorry, I need to take a leak.” He walks himself into the bathroom and shuts the door.

So much for morning hugs, I guess.

I get up before my second alarm goes off, and I get dressed before Erik emerges from the bathroom. He gets back into bed, and I brush my teeth and splash some water on my messy hair to tame it.

His gaze softens as soon as I leave the bathroom, and I’m instantly drawn to him. He reaches out and grazes my stomach with his fingertips, and I shiver, both from the light touch and the chilly fall air that’s coming through the bathroom window.

“Are you cold?” he asks, frowning. “I can get you a shirt.”

My eyes flick over to my crumpled, sweaty t-shirt from yesterday that’s lying on the floor. As much as I want to tell him that I’d rather get back into bed, I don’t have time. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

Erik stands up and hands me a folded black shirt from a drawer underneath his bed. It’s a bit baggy once I slip it on, given that working out is a core part of Erik’s job, but it works.

“Sorry if it’s a bit big,” he says.

I scoff. “Are you apologizing for being buff?” I ask, giving his firm biceps a light squeeze.

Bad idea. Touching Erik anywhere gets me so damn turned on, and I still have to go home to work. That doesn’t stop me from running my hands along his arms, savoring the addictive sensation of his smooth skin under my fingertips.

We’re both silent as Erik puts his hands on my waist and leans in, touching his forehead to mine. I stretch my body up and plant a light, spontaneous kiss on him, and he keeps smiling through the whole thing.

How much I like Erik already is almost terrifying, but holy hell, I don’t care. If I’m interested in someone, I try to move things along fast, and that’s what I intend on doing with Erik. If I don’t shoot my shot, another lucky guy will.

“How long do we have before you leave?” he asks.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “My laptop is at home and I have to log on at 8:30,” I say. “I want to stay longer, but I can only stay for a quick coffee. I’ll get carried away if we have sex.”

“Okay then, one coffee it is. Do you take milk or sugar?”

“I normally add cream, but milk is fine.”

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t have any cream.”

“I’m sure we can get cream from somewhere,” I reply, staring at Erik’s crotch and biting my lip with exaggerated seduction.

He hisses through his teeth. “You just said that you don’t want to have sex. Why do you have to torture me?”

“Hey, I want it, I just don’t have time.”

“Fair enough,” Erik says, and I step over to him. How good this man smells is so fucking unfair, and the last of my willpower evaporates.

“How long will the coffee take?” I ask.

“Five minutes, but I can turn the stove up to make it go faster.”

Keeping my eyes on Erik, I reduce the heat on the burner and smirk, drawing a surprised huff out of him.

With a low growl, I slip his sweats down, he yanks my shirt off, and by the time we’re done with each other, the coffee still isn’t ready.

Erik hands me a cup after the pot finishes boiling. “Here’s your coffee,” he says.

I accept the steaming cup from him. “Cream served on the side?”

His face is still tinged with an adorable flush, and the color deepens, making my heart squeeze.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Erik asks, snapping us out of our silence.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.” I pause. “I’m curious, though, what’s breakfast like in Sweden? Do you guys eat, like, danishes?”

Erik barks out a laugh. “Don’t say that.” His tone is light and his eyes are crinkled at the corner, which makes me smile as well.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask.

“So,” Erik starts, “there’s a silly little rivalry between Sweden and our lesser southern counterpart.”

“That counterpart being Denmark?”

“Spot on, and you unknowingly waded into the rivalry by assuming that we eat danishes.” He ruffles my hair, and I’d usually find that to be a tad demeaning, but coming from Erik, it’s endearing. “In all seriousness, it’s only a bit of fun, kind of like what you guys have with Quebec.”

“That makes sense.” That Scandinavian rivalry sounds like something I can joke around with at some point. I’ll keep it in mind.

Checking the time, I down the rest of my coffee so I won’t be late for work. I need to get out of here soon, but there’s one more thing I need to take care of.

“Are you free this weekend?” I ask. Trying to play it cool is hard, especially since it’s been ages since I asked someone out on a proper date.

“No, sorry, I’m leaving on a week-long road trip tonight, and I won’t be back until the Friday after next. What’s up?”

Damn. Oh well.

“I, uh, wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out again.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, totally! I know we just met, but I always have a great time when I’m with you.” I glance off to the side before returning my gaze to the confused man in front of me. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m so down to hang out.” He scratches the back of his head. “My team should get back to Toronto at around seven.”

My stomach stutters. “So are you free after that? Maybe instead of hanging out, we could go out-out, if you’re cool with that?”

Erik blinks, his mouth curving up. “Oh, wow. I’d… really, really like that.”

I perk up, my heart flipping. “Awesome! Let’s plan something. I need to get going, but I’ll text you.” Reaching down for my backpack, I grab it and sling the straps over my shoulders. “See you next Friday.”

“Bye, Luke.” Erik hesitates for a fraction of a second before reaching out, skimming my neck with his fingers. Muscle memory takes over, and I lean in, parting my lips to receive his for a brief kiss that has me wanting more.

I force myself to leave Erik, kicking myself for not bringing my laptop, and I arrive back at my empty apartment on top of the world.

My chest is full, my smile might as well be extending past my ears, and I have to muster up enough willpower to start work instead of kicking my feet on the couch.

I open my laptop and my mind is everywhere, so it takes far too long to type out a reply to a meaningless email.

Once I finally clear my inbox, I stretch back and let myself daydream.

Erik is the best kind of trouble: the kind that can rip my heart out and leave me hurting more than a goalie who played a period without any protective gear.

Everything about him is addictive. Everything. How he looks, talks, smells, walks, and fucks.

But more than anything, it’s who he is that really gets to me.

He’s nice, and that’s dangerous.

Still, if there’s one thing I learned in finance class, it’s that there’s no such thing as a zero-risk investment.

High risk, high reward.

Now I need to hope that his bus back from Montreal on Friday doesn’t get stuck in traffic.

I spend the next week and a half trying to put out metaphorical fires at work with only the help of a metaphorical water pistol, given that we’re understaffed as always, and I don’t have the time or energy to focus on much else. Somehow, I’m successful.

But Erik. Oh, Erik. He stays at the very forefront of my mind because we text constantly.

He doesn’t reply during games or practices, of course, but not a day goes by without us exchanging a few messages back and forth.

We ended up planning our date together, which took all of five minutes.

He suggested going to an arcade bar, and I found one close to my place. Collaboration is sexy.

And shit, he keeps sending punctuation smiles at the end of those messages.

I never thought the way someone texts could be cute, yet I’m falling more with every little closing bracket that comes my way.

That’s why when Friday arrives, my feelings for Erik haven’t gone anywhere.

In fact, they’ve grown. It’s only been two weeks since I met him, and I’m already like this.

I’m not complaining.

Right at eight, there’s a knock on my door. I open it to let Erik in, and my pants tighten.

Holy shit .

This isn’t the first time I’m seeing him in his post-game suit, this isn’t the first time he’s worn that cologne, and this isn’t the first time he’s existed in my presence.

But there’s a little extra gel in his hair, the hallway lighting is doing him all sorts of favors, and he’s smiling. That same half-smile that breaks me down is on full display.

“Can I come in?” Erik asks, letting out a breathy laugh, and I realize I’m standing like an inconvenient statue in the doorway.

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry,” I say. Erik finished playing three periods of hockey an hour ago, but it's like I’m staring at the goddamn CEO of Attraction Inc. “I made pizza and it’s in the oven. It should be ready in a couple of minutes.”

Erik finishes taking his shoes off and stands frozen in the hallway, his expression soft. “You made pizza? Like, from ingredients?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have much to do at work, so why not?”

Correction: I worked overtime yesterday so I could go all-out for Erik today.

“Oh, wow, that’s really nice of you,” Erik says, shuffling to the fridge. “I brought beer, can I put it in the fridge?”

“Right, yeah, of course.” I stick my arm out to open the fridge and our fingers brush. And they linger.

And then we’re kissing. Soft, gentle, and so damn hot. Keeping my eyes closed, I bring my hand up to twist through his soft hair, and he groans.

Fuck , if I wasn’t falling for him already, that would have done me in. But I am falling for him, hard, so all it did was push me deeper.