Page 42 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

logan

The sun was already blazing when I padded into the kitchen, trying to stretch the stiffness out of my shoulders.

Smells of eggs and butter hit me first, followed by the fresh scents of lemon and jasmine blowing in from outside.

Riley came into focus, barefoot in nothing but boxers, flipping eggs with the confidence usually reserved for his famous slapshots.

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, look who’s vertical.”

I scratched my chest and mumbled, “Barely.”

He slid eggs onto a plate and looked back again, eyes sparkling. “Need recovery time, old man?”

“Hell yes.” I stepped behind him and wrapped my arms around his chest. “You’re the one who begged me to fuck you into the mattress. Don’t act surprised that I took the assignment seriously.”

He laughed as he leaned back against me. “I’m not complaining. To be honest, I need recovery time too.” He turned in my arms, kissed me, and slid a hand down between us. Palming me through my boxers, he added, “This thing is so big I’m a little sore this morning. Hope I can take it again tonight.”

“Whenever you want, babe. I told you, I’m at your service.”

I brushed his lips with mine before sliding my tongue into his mouth. His skin was warm against my chest, and I took my time savoring our connection. When his stomach growled, I eased back and let the kiss taper into nothing more than a shared breath. “Love you, Riles.”

“Love you too. God, this is so amazing.”

We gazed into each other’s eyes for another moment before he turned back to the stove.

I nuzzled his neck while he cracked two more eggs.

The moment was simple, a slice of everyday life for people who were in love, but I’d never experienced anything like it.

It seemed as intimate as sex, and maybe even more so.

When the eggs were ready, he handed me a plate, and we carried them out to the terrace.

Far below, the Mediterranean glittered, stretching into the horizon.

We ate in silence. Birds sang in the garden, and a breeze stirred the lemon trees, creating a quiet soundtrack to a morning wrapped in a love I’d never dreamed could be so powerful.

I remained quiet after my plate was empty, unwilling to break the spell.

A few days ago, I’d been sure all was lost, that Riley could never love me.

I nearly let myself be pulled into something reckless just to forget my heartbreak for a few hours.

All that felt distant now, blurred like a bad dream.

In its place was a reality so beautiful my heart fluttered in time with the sparrows singing overhead.

Riley shifted in his chair, and when I looked over, he was staring at me. His expression was unreadable, and when he tilted his head, I asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… this. It’s everything. I can’t believe how lucky we are.”

As much as his life had changed, he must have been reeling, yet he seemed to feel as fortunate as I did.

“I agree.” I reached for his hand, and we lapsed back into silence as we sat together, enjoying what life had given us.

Later, I pretended to read on a chaise while he was stretched out on the one beside me.

He had AirPods in his ears and was probably asleep.

As flashes from the night before played across my mind, I teared up remembering the feeling of his hands clutching my back, the crack in his voice while he begged for more, and the way he looked at me like I was all that mattered in the world.

I hadn’t known sex could be that good, so raw and hot, yet overflowing with emotion.

Riley trusted me enough to give himself over without fear.

After he fell asleep, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and finally understanding we’d made love.

With so many feelings in every touch, sex was a completely different thing than I’d ever had with sweaty hookups or even men I’d cared about.

Last night had changed things, and not only because we fucked. Ade had given me his heart in every way he could, and I swore I’d earn it every day for the rest of our lives.

I didn’t want to leave the villa with its spectacular view, or the breezy days filled with kisses and granitas. More than anything, I didn’t want to lose this version of us, one not shaped by practices and games. I wanted this new life to last.

“Logan?”

I turned to look at him.

“Listen to this great song, and then let’s go for a walk. We won’t be here forever.”

I took his AirPods, mindful of the way he was looking at me. My heart ached in the best way, and I wondered if his did too.

“A walk sounds perfect,” I said. “Later, let’s go into town for drinks and dinner.”

His smile made the world spin. “It’s a plan.”

How could talking about dinner be so perfect? As the music played, I understood the answer: it was perfect because we were planning our lives, one small step at a time.

The next week passed in a sun-drenched blur that was equal parts adventure, quiet time together, and an astonishing amount of sex.

Riley was insatiable, not to mention inventive, and I wasn’t far behind.

Years of pent-up longing poured out of us, flooding every slow thrust or frantic fuck against the nearest wall.

Sex became our language, giving shape to the things we were still learning how to say.

Touch and fire led to more trust until the act felt less like release than a communion of our souls.

It transformed lust into something whole and living, binding us to each other in ways I hadn’t thought possible.

With the distractions of home stripped away, we were building the only thing that mattered, an us .

Some people say a relationship is two people learning to live together and care for each other, but I didn’t believe that anymore.

A relationship is a quiet merging. It’s two people, still themselves, but overlapping in all the right places.

Relationships aren’t compromises; they are becomings.

Besides the terrace off the kitchen, the villa also had one on the rooftop.

One night, the stars were beginning to show when I carried a bottle of wine and two glasses up there.

The air was still warm from the daytime sun, but a stronger breeze was coming in from the sea, carrying enough chill to make the sweaters we’d put on a good idea.

Riles was already there, stretched out on one of the double loungers.

He’d tipped his head back and spread his arms as if offering himself to the moon.

His preppy outfit, a peach-colored sweater and blue shorts, made him look even younger than he was.

He reminded me of the guy I used to watch laughing when he came to the Warriors four years ago, before either of us had a clue about what was coming.

He looked over and smiled. “You brought the good bottle.”

“I figured we’d earned it.”

He moved over to make room for me, and I poured wine and handed him his glass before settling beside him. Our legs found each other on their own. After we toasted to our relationship and took our first sips, he leaned against my shoulder and sighed.

For a while, we drank and watched the lights come on down the cliff, orange and gold against the darkening blue of the night. I ran a thumb across the rim of my glass, savoring the moment and wishing our time here wouldn’t end.

“You always get quiet when you’re about to say something important,” Riley said.

“I’m enjoying the view.”

He slid his hand across my stomach. “Maybe, but your brain’s doing that humming thing.”

I gave him the same disbelieving look I reserved for guys on the ice who’d done something stupid. “My brain hums?”

“You have a tell when you’re thinking too hard. You get this crease here.” He brushed a finger between my eyebrows. “And your mouth does this crooked thing.”

“Okay, maybe I’m thinking a little.”

Our wineglasses were empty, and after taking mine, he set them on the table beside the lounger. Then he scooted closer and reached for my hand. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hoping this can stay as good as it is once we’re back home. The world there isn’t quiet, and it may not seem so made for us.”

“It isn’t quiet,” he agreed. “We stay busy most of the year, but we can reshape a lot of things so they work for us.”

We sat with that for a while, listening to the faint sounds from town and the crickets chirping nearby.

“Now you’re thinking,” I said. “I can hear your brain rattling.”

He gave me the exact look I’d used on him. “My brain rattles?”

“Less than it used to. You’ll eventually get it down to a hum.”

“Fucker.” He jabbed me with his elbow, and we laughed. When we quieted, he said, “I need to tell you something.”

My brain went wild with a hundred thoughts at once, but I managed to keep myself calm. “Go for it, whatever it is. I’m listening.”

He took a breath, and his posture stiffened as if he were bracing himself. “I know. That’s why I can finally talk about it.”

Something in his voice made the back of my neck prickle. I held my breath and squeezed his hand.

“You know some about how I grew up,” he said.

“A little. Mostly from what you say after your nightmares.” My throat was tight. “You get so upset, I’m not always sure what’s real and what’s the dream.”

He paused, then gave me a little smirk, a classic Riley dodge. “You noticed I haven’t had the nightmares here?”

“I have. One of the many perks of Italy, I guess. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No.” He exhaled again, heavier this time. “I need to give you the full picture of how I grew up. If I don’t, you’ll never really understand me.”

I lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. His eyes were dark, and I waited until he was ready to go on.

“My folks weren’t good parents,” he finally said. “They weren’t good people at all. You know my dad beat me, but what I haven’t told you is that my mom was every bit as bad, if not worse. She let him do it. Hell, sometimes she told him to.”