Page 92 of Over the Line

I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I think I stopped noticing anyone else at that first game. When we sat together in the owner’s box.”

For a second, I thought he’d roll his eyes and tell me that was ridiculous.

Instead, he gave me a soft smile as the faintest hint of pink rose in his cheeks. “Yeah, I, uh… That’s definitely when you turned my head.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah.” He paused to adjust the icepack on his neck. “I didn’t invite you over to watch hockey that one night out of nowhere.”

“Oh. Damn.” I laughed. “I think I was oblivious until that night.”

God, his smile was amazing.

“I don’t think you were oblivious,” he said with a wink. “I think I was just subtle.”

“Could’ve been a little of both. I’m sure you were subtle, but trust me—I was oblivious.”

“Fair enough.” We both laughed.

As I sobered, I said, “Subtle or clueless or what, we’re on the same page now. Which is still kind of mind-blowing. And to answer your question about condoms…” I chewed my lip.

“We can absolutely use them,” he said quickly. “I was throwing it out there as an idea, but it’s completely fine with me if you’d rather use them. Trust me—I won’t take it personally.”

Well, that was a relief. I didn’t want him to think I distrusted him. If anything, I was a little startled by how much I did trust him. A little unnerved, too. Though we’d been talking constantly since Thanksgiving, that wasn’t all that long. Was I really ready to go raw with him?

More than I expected… yes, I was.

Which was exactly why I was tapping the brakes. To make sure I’d actually thought this through.

I swallowed. “I was a kid during the AIDS crisis, so it’s… I think that’s why it makes me hesitate. Even when I know we’ve both been tested.” I gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “Of course, being a kid in that era didn’t stop me from becoming a teenage dad.” I rolled my eyes. “Fast forward to my forties, and suddenly I’m way more careful with men than I ever was with my ex-wife. I don’t know what that says about me.”

“That you were a stupid teenager who grew into a conscientious adult.”

I thought about that. “Maybe? Or maybe it was all the fearmongering I had beaten into my head about gay sex and AIDS, but all the sex ed about contraception just went in one ear and out the other.” I pursed my lips. “Stupid teenager, too. Definitely.”

He laughed softly and squeezed my hand. “I think a lot of us were stupid at that age.” He ran his thumb along mine. “And at our age now—it’s really not a big deal to me if you’d rather use condoms. I want it to be fun, not stressful.”

“I know. I think I’m just overthinking it.”

“Maybe.” Another slight half-shrug. “But I’d rather you overthink it than feel weird about it or regret it after the fact.”

Some tension loosened in my neck and shoulders, and I exhaled. The weird thing was with anyone else, I’d have said, “Okay, well, then let’s just use them. We can always stop using them later.”

But tonight, with Liam, the words that came out were, “I don’t see any reason to use them.”

His eyebrows flicked up. “Are you sure?”

I considered it, because was I sure? But I only needed a few seconds before I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.” I brought our hands up and kissed the center of his palm. “And it’s not like we’re trying to decide in the heat of the moment. If one of us changes our minds later…” I shrugged.

Liam relaxed a bit too, and he nodded. “Okay. Just don’t think there’s any pressure from my end, all right?”

“I know. No pressure.” I leaned in and kissed him lightly. I’d only meant for a brief kiss, but he curved his hand behind my neck and kept me there, so I indulged in something longer and deeper.

When he relented, he gazed up at me with fire in his tired eyes, and his voice came out hoarse. “God, I wish we could do more than this tonight.”

“Me too.” I dusted my lips across his, then eased back onto the other cushion. “But it’ll just whet our appetites more for when we finally can do something.”

He made a theatrically pitiful sound. “My appetite is whet enough—I want to fuck, damn it!”