Page 43 of Over the Line

Might not be smart to meet in public. People recognize me sometimes. (grimace emoji)

Oh I hadn’t thought about that.

You’re welcome to come here.

As soon as the text sent, I swore aloud. My heart was pounding. What the hell was I doing? Just getting a drink was a stupid thing to even consider. Having him come here? To my house? What was I think⁠—

His reply appeared on the screen.

Sounds great.

I exhaled hard with relief at the realization that neither of us intended to be the responsible adult in this situation. I wasn’t going to rescind the offer, he wasn’t going to decline it, and he was going to come to my house. Whatever happened after that…

Well, nothing would happen. Because we were just two guys talking and having a drink and maybe watching some hockey. He probably didn’t think anything of it because he was straight. My invitation hadn’t even registered as suggestive because his mind wasn’t going there.

I was just stupid.

Sweet! Come by whenever. I’m here. LOL

Can you send me the address again? I vaguely remember where it is, but Sewickley is kind of a maze.

LOL No problem.

It occurred to me that it might not even cross his mind that I had something flirtatious in mind. I had no reason to believe Garrett was anything but straight.

Well, aside from those long looks.

And the way he sometimes tripped over his words when he saw me.

And the fire in those eyes every time I met his gaze.

Fuck me. I wasn’t reading this wrong, was I?

And now I was inviting him over? To my house? Alone?

Though it wasn’t like we’d be doing much even if he was a hundred percent gay and was a hundred percent into me. After all, there was a reason I was covered in icepacks and heating pads right now.

With a groan, I pushed myself up, letting some of the packs slide off. Yeah, no, there wouldn’t be any bedroom acrobatics tonight.

Some company, though. That was all I could expect from this, and truthfully, it was all I wanted.

Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I’d believe it.

CHAPTER 13

GARRETT

Was this a bad idea?

Because I was pretty sure this was a bad idea.

Son’s teammate. A decade younger than me. Light years out of my league. This checked all the boxes of a bad idea.

But I didn’t stop. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t hesitate to pull onto that steep, winding, moss-covered driveway.

When I parked in front of the first bay of his four-car garage, I did pause for a moment to ask myself if I was really doing this.

The answer was an immediate “fuck yes, I’m doing this,” though, and I got out and headed for the porch. When I was halfway up the steps, the door opened and⁠—