Page 183 of Over the Line
“No.” He covered my hand with his. “I don’t. I just—I mean, I knew damn well I was batting out of my league the first time I ever touched you. But I—”
“No, you weren’t.” I shook my head. “I’m just a guy, Garrett. I’m nothing special.”
“You are, though,” he countered. “And not just on the ice.” He stepped closer, his soft, beautiful eyes locked on mine. “You could’ve had any man you wanted.”
“I do have the man I wanted,” I whispered. “Did you think I was with you—what, out of pity or something?” I laughed humorlessly and shook my head again. “Baby, no. I wanted to be with you.” I swallowed hard and pushed my shoulders back. “I still want to be with you.”
That last part made him tense all over. “You do?”
“Of course I do,” I said without hesitation. “You didn’t do anything wrong and neither did I. I don’t know how we’re going to smooth things over with Chris, and we can’t put that cat back in the bag, but none of the solutions I can think of include us ending this.”
He stared at me incredulously. “Really?”
I didn’t answer. I just cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.
He was tense to the point of rigid, but only for a second before he relaxed into my kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, and oh God, I didn’t think he’d ever held me this tightly. This reverently. As if he really had been convinced he’d somehow lose me. Or maybe that was just me, because I’d been convinced he was slipping through my fingers, and now here he was, holding me close and kissing me in my kitchen.
I’m not losing you. Oh my God. I’m not losing you.
When we came up for air, all my incredulity and relief were written all over his face, too. As if he still couldn’t quite believe I hadn’t shoved him away.
I looked right in his eyes. “I want to make this work. Whatever it takes—time, counseling with Chris, whatever—I’m in. Because I want this to work.”
“You… Liam, you can have any man on the planet, and—”
“And the man I want is you.” I caressed his cheek. “To tell you the truth, being with you—this is the first truly selfish thing I’ve ever done in my whole damn life.”
Garrett exhaled as he stroked my hair. “I don’t think I’d describe anything about this as selfish.”
I was already shaking my head. “Maybe that’s the wrong word. I mean it’s something I’ve done for me. Not for the team. Not for the sport. Not for queer athletes. Not for…” I flailed my hand. “I wondered for a long time what I’d do with myself when I wasn’t playing hockey anymore, because that was my entire life. My entire world.” I touched his face. “But then you came along, and suddenly I can see life after hockey.”
He swallowed hard, and his voice came out a little thick. “Really?”
“Yes. It’s…” I chewed my lip as I tried to find the words. “When I’ve dated guys before, it was always that fluttery excited feeling. Like it’s new and exciting, you know?” I pushed out a breath. “Whenever I’m with you, though, it’s like that feeling when I get home from a road trip.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Like I can drop the media training, drop everything that comes with being captain of the Phantoms, and just… be. I can breathe.” I laughed softly. “I don’t know if that’s what relationships are supposed to be, but—”
“That’s exactly what they’re supposed to be,” Garrett whispered unsteadily. “The fireworks are fine in the beginning. But it’s supposed to feel like coming home because it’s supposed to be home.” He searched my eyes. “That’s… That’s what you feel with me?”
Throat tightening, I nodded. “Every time.” I trailed my fingertips down his cheek. “I love you, Garrett.”
He stared at me. I didn’t even think he was breathing. For long, heart-pounding seconds, I was sure I’d overstepped. Moved too fast. Gone too far.
But then his shocked expression morphed into a soft smile. Drawing me back in, he whispered, “I love you, too.”
And then I was wrapped up in his arms, my eyes stinging as I buried my face against his neck. There was still work to do. Still damage control left to be done. But we were okay, and for the longest time, we just held each other. Not kissing. Not speaking. Just basking in this peaceful moment of perfect closeness.
Of being home.
CHAPTER 44
GARRETT
Chris
Can we talk?
