Overtime Goal: An MM Age Gap Bi-Awakening Hockey Romance (Buffalo Warriors Hockey Book 4), page 5
“It’d be a head trip for sure.”
He nodded. “How do you feel about it now? It’s been a month, so how have your thoughts evolved?”
Shit. I’d hoped he would talk before I had to answer that question. If he said something wise, I could build on it. Instead, he’d left the spotlight on me, and since I didn’t know what to say, I went for a dodge. “How have they evolved?”
He didn’t blink. “Yes. If you’re ready to talk, I assume you’ve thought it through. Am I wrong?”
I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. “We…” I glanced at the wall, hoping it might toss me a lifeline, but it didn’t. “I uh… I liked it. It was incredible, physically and in my head. Sometimes I can’t think about anything else.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back. For a moment, the only sounds were a TV from next door and my pulse pounding hard enough to make my ears buzz.
When he didn’t move, I started worrying. “Logan?”
“Yeah.” He opened his eyes. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
“Because there is. As good as it was, I don’t know if I could do it again. I like you so fucking much, but that’s a big part of the problem. Sex has a way of screwing up things in my life. It’s already done that to us, and if we can fix this, I don’t want to risk losing it again.”
“I’ve been thinking about it every day,” he said.
“You have?”
“Of course. What happened wasn’t just sex, at least not for me. I wasn’t trying to hook up with you or push you into something. I actually thought we were on the same page.”
“We were.”
He gave me a long look. “I don’t think so. You thought you were straight then, and you still do.”
“Because I am.” I was too loud again, but the words were already out.
“There you go. It was more than sex for me, but what was it for you? If you’re straight, you didn’t have the same feelings I did, and you’re not thinking about it every day for the same reasons I do. You think about it because it left you confused.”
“Didn’t it confuse you too? If getting it on with your straight friend didn’t mix you up, how did it make you feel?”
“Like maybe—” He cut himself off and chewed the side of a finger before he said, “I thought maybe you liked me in a certain way. Since you didn’t, what were you thinking?”
“That night was hot as hell.”
“It sure was. And full of feelings on my part.” He narrowed his eyes. “What was it about for you, Aidan? Was it only the heat?”
I shuddered, not because he’d asked, but because I didn’t know the answer. “It was… Damn it, Logan. I’ve never looked at a guy like that before. Never even thought about touching a man and letting him touch me. As much as I enjoyed the sex, I’m not going around checking out dudes. I still think women are hot, so I don’t see how I could be gay.”
He couldn’t have looked at me any differently if I’d said grass was purple. “Really? I asked what that night was for you, and your answer is that you can’t be gay because you still think women are hot?”
“I like you so much, and I was trying to show that, like you were. I’ve never had such a good friend, and I might have… Why do you keep asking if I’m gay?”
“Fuck off. I’m not asking if you’re gay. I haven’t even hinted at that, and nothing I’ve ever known about you makes me think you are. But you just said we were showing how much we cared about each other. There are many ways to do that besides having sex. Are you attracted to me, or was that night only an experiment? A walk on the wild side?”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. What the hell was I supposed to say? I wanted him, and he obviously wanted me. The pull between us was magnetic. But if I gave in to my attraction again and we went back to that place, I wasn’t sure we’d survive. I didn’t want to take the risk. I wanted him in my life without feeling our whole relationship was hanging by a thread.
“I’m very attracted to you,” I said, “but I don’t think I can be with you. Not like that.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes locked on mine.
“I’m still figuring all this out,” I said. “If we mess around again and it goes sideways, I’m afraid I’ll lose you. That would kill me.”
“You won’t lose me.”
“You say that now, but—”
“I mean it.” His voice had the same firm, no-bullshit tone he used on the ice. “We’re not fragile, Riles. We’re tough. Yes, we had an incredible night that confused both of us, but being physical doesn’t have to be a wrecking ball unless we make it one.”
“But I don’t know what it meant.”
“Yes, you do. You already said we were showing how much we cared about each other. If it ever happened again, we’d be doing the same thing.”
My stomach balled into a tight knot, and my voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “Do you want it to happen again? Because I’m afraid it might.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Now that we’ve talked and know what it was, we’ll be okay. If it happens again, we’ll still be fine.”
“You wouldn’t think…” I raised my eyebrows and tipped a hand back and forth in the air.
He tilted his head. “What?”
“That there should be more? You’re gay, and—”
“I promise, if it ever happens again, I won’t think you’re proposing to me.” He shook his head. “I won’t even think you’re asking me to be your boyfriend.”
That should have made it easier, and maybe it did. Logan was a grown man. He was old enough to have been around the block a few times, and he’d said he wouldn’t take something physical as anything more than it was.
But what else would it be? My brain was going in twelve different directions at once. I liked Logan, and I was sexually attracted to him. Since I’d loved what we did, why shouldn’t I be open to doing it again? Take him at his word and trust him to keep it simple?
Because I’m scared as hell. He can’t know for sure what it would do to him. And what about me? Would it seem like I was using him for sex when I could never feel the way he did?
Still, he’d been right that we weren’t fragile. If we had sex again, I wouldn’t be making a promise I couldn’t keep, and he wouldn’t misunderstand what it meant. We’d both know what it was: two people, no expectations, and no crash and burn.
I took a deep breath. Logan smiled, and we sat like that while the question bounced around inside me. Finally, I asked, “What do we do now?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Watch a stupid movie, talk about literally anything else, and keep being us. We shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything, but we won’t feel weird if it happens.”
I took a moment to let that settle. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
After blowing out a long breath, I said, “Okay. I’m in if you are.”
“A hundred percent.”
I was so relieved, I slumped back in the chair. It had been exhausting trying not to think about what we’d done. I was tired of pretending I wasn’t staring at his mouth every time he talked, remembering how his lips had felt on mine. He was my best friend, and I needed him. We’d just figured out how to live with what happened and not worry about the future.
He got up and stretched, then held out a hand. “Let’s get on the bed to watch.”
“You’re not thinking—”
“We’re watching a movie, Riles. I promise I can resist your amazing body.”
I let him help me up. “Don’t make it sound that easy.”
“Sorry, bud. The truth hurts.” He got on the bed, patted the space beside him, and picked up the remote. “What are you in the mood for?”
I settled on the pillow beside him, feeling better than I had in weeks. We’d found our footing again. I could stop feeling like a stranger in my own skin.
8/
logan
Riley had his hand on my side. It was big and a little rough, a hand that left no doubt it belonged to a man. I stayed still, afraid if I shifted even a little, he’d pull away. I wasn’t ready for that. Most of the men I’d dated had smaller hands with smooth palms and slender fingers softened by moisturizer and desk jobs. Riley’s were different. They showed the wear of constant training, hard work, and long days in the cold air of a practice rink.
I adjusted slightly, easing the pressure on my shoulder, and he didn’t move. Closing my eyes again, I let myself pretend we’d ended the night naked and tangled, satisfied from making each other come. I imagined my future would be Riley and me sharing a bed, with his hands on me all the time.
After we talked last night, the knot in my chest had loosened for the first time in weeks. Now, doubt was already creeping back in. The deal we’d made was simple. I’d agreed so we could salvage our friendship, hoping I might have him sometimes instead of not at all. The problem was that I wasn’t built for casual. For me, dates weren’t euphemisms for hookups. I wanted to know the men I slept with because sex was so much better that way. But I didn’t need to date Riley to care about him, so maybe things would work out.
God help me. I’m already in love with him.
I didn’t want to think about what might happen to me when the novelty wore off for him. He’d wake beside me one morning and wonder why the hell he wasn’t in bed with a woman. His fever for them had never cooled for long. Another girl, another story.
Fuck me.
I’d never been anyone’s experiment because I’d never let it happen. So why was I lying there with Riles when I knew what to expect? I was in bed with a teammate, hoping he’d never let go, but sure he would.
Something banged out in the hall. Riley jerked and tightened his grip on my side, then drew his hand away.
“Hey.” His voice was thick and croaky. “Wake up, Logan.”
My fantasy was over, so I blew out a breath, groaned, and turned over to face him. “I guess we fell asleep.”
He pulled the comforter around him. “At least we took our shirts off, but now I’m cold.”
I glanced at the clock. “We should get moving. The bus leaves for the arena in an hour.”
“Shit.” He burrowed under the covers completely. “I don’t fucking feel like morning skate.”
“I’ll order some breakfast, and then you can go to your room to change before we get on the bus.”
He looked at the door, then at me. “Think that’ll be okay? What if someone sees?”
“We’ve fallen asleep together before. Remember when Gabe saw me leaving your room and gave us shit for being lightweights who couldn’t stay awake long enough to watch a movie? Don’t get paranoid because of what we said last night.”
“You’re right.” He put on a crooked grin. “Besides, everyone’s so busy watching Holky and Dog’s every move, they wouldn’t think twice about what we’re doing.”
“Or not doing. Don’t sweat it, Riles.” I reached for the phone to call room service.
We beat the Chicago Ice and flew to Detroit for the last stop on our brutal roadie. Five games in six nights was no way to keep a team healthy. We’d been lucky to hold injuries to bruises, visor cuts, and a high stick in Edmonton requiring three stitches in Mason’s chin. Everyone was grumbling as we tromped down the tunnel to play the Huskies. They hadn’t had the best season, but they were always on fire to play against us.
The first period went as expected, heavy on chirping, cheap shots, and enough cross-checking to keep the refs busy. Early in the second, shit blew up. One of Detroit’s forwards leveled Dog as he was winding up for a shot, dropping him flat. Abby swooped in and drilled the Husky in the chest.
That should have been it, but one of Detroit’s D-men jumped Abby from the side and clocked him with a sucker punch. The crowd roared as Brody ditched his stick, grabbed the Husky blueliner’s jersey, and started swinging. Within seconds, every player on the ice was throwing punches except the goalies. It didn’t take long for the Huskies’ tender to skate out to center ice and start yelling at Gabe, who flipped him off. The guy pushed off, making a beeline for Gabe, but a linesman got to him in time to stop a goalie fight.
The refs handed out matching penalties, and everyone who’d fought landed in the sin bin. Criswell had no choice but to send our line out for the resulting four-on-four. Holky won the faceoff, snapping the puck to me, and I charged toward the Huskies’ net. Their defense came in fast, so I fed a pass to Riley, who tapped it in for a 3–0 lead.
Near the end of the period, the first line was back on the ice. Dog got his revenge with a blistering slapper that lit the lamp. The payback was sweet, and our bench erupted in celebration. Even Criswell cracked a grin. We hit the second intermission up four-zip and rode our high into the third period. With both teams focused on play, we held onto our lead and closed the game with a 5–2 win.
Since we weren’t flying home until morning, Harpy decided we should go out. I would rather have gone back to the hotel and chilled with Riley, but before I could catch his eye, he’d already agreed to go.
He looked at me. “You’re in, right?”
So, I went. We bussed back to the hotel and walked to a bar we’d been to before. Since Riley and I were the last ones in, there were no chairs left beside each other. He ended up across the table, wedged between Blunt and Edwards, while I was sandwiched between Gabe and Mason. The place was so loud, there was no chance of talking to Riles.
It didn’t take long for a group of pro athletes in suits to draw attention. Women began orbiting, smiling and leaning in close, stopping long enough to be noticed. Blunt and Edwards lit up, and Riley followed their lead. He was all grin and sparkle as he bantered with the women, egged on by the other two as if they were back in junior hockey with something to prove.
I turned away. There was no way I could sit there like some aging wallflower while Riley held court as the straight boy king of the flirt parade. Gabe talked about a trip he and Brody were planning for the summer, and though I tried to listen, the words barely registered. I nodded along and nursed my second beer, which fizzled uneasily in my stomach.
Eventually, Gabe turned to Harpy, and I made the mistake of looking back across the table. Fuck me. Blunt, Edwards, and Riley each had a girl on their lap. They were all laughing, and I couldn’t help seeing Riley’s girl twisting, apparently intent on delivering friction he wouldn’t be able to resist.
I was so bitter I could taste it. Since I had no fucking claim, it was pathetic. Only last night, we’d agreed to have no expectations. If anything happened between us, it wouldn’t mean more than what it was. So why did it feel like I was being gutted with a butter knife? I needed to take a leak, and when I got up, Riley didn’t even glance over.
While I was in the bathroom, I tried to get a grip. I hadn’t wanted to go out to begin with, and I wished I hadn’t. It was none of my business if Riley went back to the hotel with Blunt, Edwards, and all three girls. But if that was so, why was my jaw clenched so tight it made my head hurt?
When I made it back to the table, there was no girl on Riley’s lap. But another one was standing close, her fingers in his hair, leaning over and whispering in his ear.
I put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m beat, so I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.”
Harpy leaned up so he could see around Gabe. “You sure? We won’t be here much longer.”
I couldn’t help glancing across the table again, and this time Riley looked up.
“I’m leaving,” I called over the music. “See you tomorrow.”
His eyes widened. “You’re going now?”
“Yeah. Have fun.” I turned to leave.
“Wait up, Logan!”
I stopped and looked back, surprised to see Riley hurrying around the table. As soon as he was beside me, he said, “I’m tired too. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to. Looked like you were having a good time.”
He shook his head. “I was playing along, not enjoying myself.”
I nodded. “Suit yourself.”
We were quiet on the way back to the hotel. In the elevator, I asked, “Looking forward to going home tomorrow?”
“Fuck yes. We’ll be busy, but at least we can sleep in our own beds.”
That made my stomach twist again, so I didn’t reply. When we reached my room, I opened the door and turned back to say goodnight. Riley walked inside before I could speak.
He walked toward the bathroom like he owned the place. At the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Up for another movie? Pick something, and I’ll be back in a minute.”
9/
riley
While I stood in the bathroom, I wondered why Logan was acting so weird. Everything had been fine at the bar. We’d all been laughing and blowing off steam after a big win, and though I hadn’t been wild about those women crawling all over me, I wasn’t going to sit it out. Blunt and Edwards were on a tear, and I figured I’d hang with them, maybe talk some shit, and knock back a beer or two. Being seen flirting with women wasn’t a bad thing; many fans expected that as much as they did a good point total.
Logan had been talking to Gabe, so I left them to it. But the next time I looked across the table, Logan was gone.
“In the men’s room,” Gabe had said.
A few minutes later, I was back in fuckboy mode when Logan said he was leaving. I looked up, and he yelled the same thing across the table, making my gut flutter. I nodded at the girl I’d been chatting up and ran around the table to Logan. “I’ll come with you.”
His frown had been so deep I thought he might tell me to sit back down. It would’ve stung, but I had no right to tell him what he could do. He stayed quiet, looking like he wasn’t sure what to do with me.
By the time I finished in the bathroom and went back into the room, Logan had changed into sweats and a pink T-shirt that made his face glow. He pointed at similar clothes he’d laid out on the bed.
