Page 95 of Over the Line

I couldn’t help smiling any more than I could help the excited flutter in my chest. There was absolutely no telling where this thing between us would go. It could fizzle out next week for all I knew. But it could also last. This could be something worth explaining to his son and the team and even the public.

Is it too soon to hope we get there eventually?

“I still can’t believe you want this with me,” he whispered, some color blooming in his cheeks.

“You can’t? Not even after I said we couldn’t, and then all but said ‘get over here so we can get naked’?”

His soft laugh made me warm all over. “I mean, okay. I believe it. But I also…” He sobered, running his fingers through my hair, unaware of how much it melted me every time he did that. “You’re… you. I’m just some forty-something guy who⁠—”

I stopped him with a kiss. “Put a pin in that. Next time my body is cooperating, I’ll fuck you until you believe how much I want you.”

The way his breath hitched had me furious at the universe that I hadn’t been able to fuck him like that tonight.

Another time. It would give us something to look forward to.

He laughed as some color bloomed in his face. “Just, uh… You’re not the only one with some physical limitations. Don’t expect three or four rounds out of me every night.”

I guffawed, shaking my head. “Same. Maybe when I was in my twenties, but I swear, the day I turned thirty-five…”

Garrett snorted. “Right? Bodies are bullshit.”

“They really are. But I’m pretty sure we can make this work.”

Oh God, the heat in his eyes.

Sliding an arm around my waist, he drew me in for another kiss.

And just before our lips met, he growled, “We can absolutely make this work.”

By the time the Phantoms’ schedule started to settle down, we were into late December, and that meant a whole different stack of reasons for Garrett and me to miss each other. Soon, people would have family trooping into town for the holidays, and that included the two of us. My parents, along with my brother and his family, would be flying the day before Christmas Eve. Even if I hadn’t had a full house, Garrett would have his hands full too—his older son and younger daughter were spending the holidays in Pittsburgh.

Despite all the chaos and distance, though, Garrett was still there the whole time. Sometimes thousands of miles away, sometimes asleep by the time I had a chance to text him back, but he was there. FaceTiming when we could. Texting the rest of the time. When we did manage to see each other, my body inevitably made sure it was just a quiet night of dinner and TV because what could I say? This kind of pain was not an aphrodisiac.

Through it all, Garrett was nothing but sweet and patient. He made sure I knew he still wanted me and had every intention of having me once time and bodies cooperated. On those rare nights when we could be together, he was content to just cuddle up on the couch and watch a hockey game while I iced my battered carcass. I loved his company, and I lived for those sporadic evenings just like I lived for the ping of my text tone letting me know he’d messaged me.

But holy fuck, if I didn’t get to ride this man’s gorgeous ass soon, or even just take his dick down my throat again, I was going to lose my ever-loving mind. Especially since he’d told me more than once how much he wanted it, and—damn it, could we please just fuck already?

I had never in my life looked forward to the off season more than I did this year, simply because I wanted the unbroken quiet time with him. I wanted to know what it was like to be with him when my body wasn’t in a constant state of repair, and when I didn’t always have my foot out the door for the next road trip.

Would he still be interested by the time the season ended?

Guess I’d find out when the time came.

For the moment, we saw each other when we could and talked constantly when we had to be apart. The texting—sexting and otherwise—continued throughout all of it, holding my sanity together like the duct tape that had kept my gear from disintegrating in my youth days. Through the chaos of traveling, playing, practicing, and the holidays, there was this constant string of communication with Garrett. A meme at exactly the right moment when I needed something to make me laugh. Something flirty while I passed the time on a plane. A filthy promise that made my breath hitch and my cheeks red.

And, more often than not, steady conversation about whatever. A reminder every time I looked at my phone that I was on someone’s mind. That there was someone on this earth besides my family who thought about me outside of hockey.

Someone who I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Nights like tonight were the hardest—home games. When Garrett unfailingly came down to the locker room to see Chris before and after. When I’d see him, hear his voice, feel his presence, but I didn’t dare look at him. When we’d exchange hellos and handshakes the same way I did with any other family members who came to a game, but we had to pretend this was the extent of our relationship.

When I’d see him at the Zamboni gate, helping my teammates’ wives wrangle the kids and smiling at the little ones while they waved at their dads, and I just had to skate by and warm up like normal.

As I skated past the gate tonight and saw him holding Craws’s baby, my heart did things it shouldn’t have while I was on the ice.

Why is this so hard? Why does just seeing you fuck with my balance?

Yeah, right. Like I didn’t know.