Page 45 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)
“Right,” I said. “And what we have needs to grow naturally. It’s real, but trying to force things never turns out well.”
“Absolutely. For a little while, we need to let things happen without a spotlight on us.” He reached for my hand and linked our fingers. “Think we can pull it off? Keeping it quiet for a while?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “We’ve survived worse than curious teammates.”
He laughed again, and the beautiful sound wrapped around me like a blanket. “We’ll have to be smart because they’ll be wondering.”
“Let them wonder. So… what do we call this? Are you my boyfriend now, or is that too high school?”
“If you don’t call me your boyfriend, I’ll be very hurt and write you a sad poem about the deep dark sea.”
I laughed. “Please don’t.”
“It’s settled then.”
We locked eyes, and I squeezed his hand. “Let’s go back and be us. No big declarations, no hiding, but always telling the truth.”
He nodded. “We’ll be real and let this grow.”
My heart skittered. Love, something I’d never really believed in, existed after all. I dared to dream that we could last forever.
We lingered on the terrace a while longer, but when the sun got too strong, we moved inside to pack our bags.
Since we’d be leaving for Naples early the next morning, there wouldn’t be much time then.
Somewhere between folding and arranging things in our luggage, Logan dropped a kiss on the back of my neck. Our lips met when I turned to face him.
After a moment lost in each other’s mouths, he pulled away and said, “Should we spend the afternoon in bed or go into town and make some last Positano memories?”
“Hmm. That’s a hard decision.” I glanced at his shorts, which barely contained the hard dick inside. “But let’s go make some memories. Then we can fuck all night.”
He palmed my erection. “You’re a hard man, but I think your idea’s a good one. Let’s finish packing and get on our way.”
In town, we had a quick lunch and walked the streets one last time, picking up a few more souvenirs to take home. We laughed our asses off when we found hand-carved wooden gifts for our friends, a basset hound for Dog, and a guy with a gigantic head for Holky.
“How about this for Harpy?” Logan held up an angel figurine. “We can put a C on the chest and paint red horns under the halo.” Angel was one of the team’s nicknames for Harpy since he looked so innocent yet had such a dirty mind.
“That’s fucking awesome. And this for Packy?” I’d found a boxer. Packy had been going through shit with his wife and had taken a lot out on enemy players who pissed him off.
Once we’d found something for everyone, we walked on. After we bought some handmade ceramics, we visited a shop that had beautiful white gold chains, and we each bought one for the other.
“Exactly right for my boyfriend,” Logan said after he’d fastened one around my neck and stepped back to look me over. “It’s perfect on you.”
I put the other chain around his neck and admired the way the color gleamed against the hair showing at the collar of his shirt. “Makes you look like a stud,” I said. “I won’t be able to look at it without thinking of all that sexy hair on your chest.”
He gave me a dubious grin. “I only look like a stud?”
“All right. It accentuates your studliness.”
“That’s more like it. Keep talking that way, and I’ll fuck you twice tonight.”
I shook my head. “Three times, and it’s a deal.”
“Done.”
Later, we went back to the restaurant we’d loved most, on a cliffside with a perfect view of the water. The host seated us at a corner table, and while we waited for the server to bring our wine, we watched the lights glittering across the coast.
When the antipasto came, Logan lifted his glass. “To next season.”
“To the playoffs,” I replied.
“To summer,” he added.
We clinked, and I said, “New toast. To us, officially starting a new life together.”
After our first sips, we dug into the antipasto, a spread of chilled seafood that tasted like it had come out of the water that morning.
Hunger won out over words. For a while, it was only the two of us trading bites, making dumb noises of approval, and me shoving a fork at Logan with a “you gotta try this.”
“This is the last one,” he said, holding up a shrimp. “If I peel it, will you eat half?”
“Sure.” He got to work, and for some reason, it was about the sexiest thing I’d seen all day. The devil whispered in my ear, and though I made a half-assed attempt to keep my mouth shut, I couldn’t do it. “Can I tell you something?”
He looked up and passed me his fork, half a shrimp speared on the tines. “What is it?”
I ate the bite and leaned across the table. “You did that like a pro. I’ll happily let you peel my shrimp any day.”
He tried to control his twitching lips, then rolled his eyes. “And I’ll happily take you up on that offer as soon as we get home. But Riles?”
I raised a brow.
“That’s no shrimp you’ve got. More like an elephant’s trunk.”
I groaned and shook my head. “No, that would be yours. And I can’t wait to get my mouth on it. Way better than shrimp.”
We laughed, and then Logan pointed out the window. “Look at that.”
Every light in town seemed to be glowing, and the buildings stepping up the cliff looked like a ginormous Christmas tree. I reached for his hand. “I get why people come here and never leave.”
He tilted his head. “Is that a hint?”
“Call it a strong possibility for retirement.”
“Well,” he said, “that’ll be here for me a lot sooner than for you.”
I shrugged. “No problem. We’ll buy a place when you retire, come here whenever we can, and move in full-time when I hang up my skates.”
His soft smile made my heart stutter. “Another deal,” he said. “I want to be with you, wherever that is.”
After dinner, we went home and shared a lounger on the rooftop terrace.
“So much to do when we get back,” Logan said.
I groaned. “We’ll have to get in shape, for one thing. That’ll be a hell of a job after all the food here.”
“Truth. At least you’re only twenty-three. Wait until you see how it feels at thirty-five.”
“You’ll make it, old man. I’ll help you through it.” He was still wearing the same shirt he had earlier, and I tugged a hair at the collar.
“Aw! And fuck you very much for the offer.”
“Yeah?” I teased a finger over his crotch, and damn if his dick didn’t start getting hard. “I’m hoping you’ll fuck me very much when we go to bed.”
He grinned. “Remember our deal? Three times.”
I tried to slip a hand up the leg of his shorts, but he grabbed my wrist. “None of that. We already broke one lounger, so let’s wait for bed.”
“Spoilsport.” We laughed, and I said, “I know you’re helping with Nick Johnson’s hockey camp later this month.”
He kissed the top of my head. “For a week. If I asked, I’m sure he’d be glad to have you too. We’ll need all the help we can get with those kids. Moore and Cleever will be there.”
“Hmm.” Kev and Cleevs were two of my idols as defensemen. “If you think he’ll say yes, let’s check it out. I don’t want to be apart more than we have to right now.”
“I don’t either. We’ll call him when we get home.” The crickets started chirping, and it was a moment before Logan asked, “Does that mean you’ll come with me to see my brother and his family the first two weeks in August? A week in Philly, then a week at the Jersey Shore.”
I laughed. “The demon nephews? I don’t know.”
“Come on, they’re angelic demons, just like Harpy. And Dave’s wife, Kiley, is a sweetheart. It would give us a chance to tell a couple of people about us who’ll have our backs no matter what.”
I raised my head enough to kiss his cheek, then rested it on his shoulder. “I don’t want to be apart for two weeks, and you talk about those kids so much I’m curious. Telling Dave and Kiley sounds good too.”
“I’ll call them as soon as we get back. They’ll be happy to meet you.”
“Sounds like we’re in for a lot more fun. I’ve never been to the Jersey Shore.”
We watched the stars for a while before Logan spoke again. “I know we were just talking on the beach, but can we really make Positano our place? We have too many memories here to tell it goodbye.”
“For sure. I wish we didn’t have to leave at all.”
He draped an arm over me. “We’ll be back before you know it.”