Page 66 of Tough Call

Somehow, I had weeks in this place with this man.

I wondered when that would start to feel real.

I’d never had much of an inclination to watch a partner sleep, but this time, just like that one morning in Prague, I couldn’t help it. Or, well, I was listening to Madars sleep, since the siesta shades had rendered the room pitch black. I had no idea if there were streetlights on or moonlight or anything because we were completely sealed off from the outside world. I liked it, and once I was fully adapted to the time zone, I’d probably sleep like the dead.

Thanks to my body clock being scrambled by traveling, though, I was wide awake in the middle of the night: 3:12 am, to be exact, according to the blindingly bright screen of my phone.

That was now facedown on the nightstand again, and I just lay there in the darkness, listening to Madars breathing softly and steadily beside me. The only time we’d ever slept through the night together had been the final handful of nights in Prague, and he’d been restless from pain and drugs thanks to his torn MCL. Tonight, he was completely relaxed. Every now and then, he’d shift or stir a little, but for the most part, he was sound asleep.

As I listened, my mind went back to those days when we lived across the hall from each other. We’d text back and forth until we were sure my parents were asleep. Then one of us would tiptoe across the hall and slip into the other’s room—silently, of course, since we kept those door hinges thoroughly greased.

There’d always been something exhilarating about sliding under the covers with him. It felt reckless and risky, like we might get caught at any moment even though my parents had been on the opposite end of the house and could sleep through anything.

Sometimes we’d make out. During the second year, as we’d both neared eighteen and were getting a little braver, things got hotter and heavier. Even then, sometimes we’d just lay there and talk until we were nearly falling asleep.

We’d both been terrified of my parents busting us in bed together. Even after I’d come out to them, and later, Madars had done the same, we couldn’t take that chance. It was no different than my siblings bringing their boyfriends and girlfriends around but never being caught in a compromising position. Plus we’d never actually told my parents there was anything between us. They knew we were friends, but everything beyond that we’d kept a secret.

Sometimes I wondered what they would’ve said or done if they’d known. Our biggest fear had been them deciding it was “inappropriate” for us to be living in the same house if we were dating. Shortly before we’d started—well, “dating” was being generous but whatever it was we’d been doing—another billet family’s daughter had started dating the player living with them. They’d immediately had him transferred to another house. The boy and girl were still allowed to date, but the consensus had been that they shouldn’t be living under the same roof.

Neither of us had wanted to risk being separated like that, especially since it meant outing Madars to the major junior league. He hadn’t been ready for that yet, and what other explanation could be given for why he suddenly couldn’t stay in our house?

So we’d kept it out of sight, and admittedly, I’d always gotten a little thrill about sneaking around with the hot boy across the hall.

That thrill was gone now, replaced by something… quieter. Something steady and even that didn’t feel like it would inevitably flame out.

My heart sped up as I stared up into the darkness. What if this had some staying power? What if we really, truly could make it work? He wasn’t playing in the NAL, so there was no conflict of interest. The distance was something we’d have to contend with, but so far, so good.

Beside me, Madars sighed in his sleep, then fell back into his usual slow, gentle breathing.

Closing my eyes, I smiled to myself. I’d honestly never imagined reconnecting like this as adults. I’d been a teenager—I hadn’t really thought much further ahead than the next semester at school. We both had grand professional plans, but this thing between us? It had been all about right here, right now.

And a decade later, here we were…

Right here.

Right now.

Was it too soon to hope this was only the beginning?

CHAPTER 21

MADARS

We spent the first two days just lounging around the villa. Lazy sex. A dip in the pool. Good food. Connor leaning against me while we watched a movie. I couldn’t think of a better way to start our summer together.

The third day, we ventured out into Sevilla. The first time I came here, I’d tried to see it all in a day or two, which was a mistake. It was just too damn hot to speed-run through the city. We got an early start, too, since while the mornings were hot, they weren’t nearly as oppressive as the afternoons.

We also took our time because I was babying my knee a little. Though I’d recovered from my surgery enough to skate at full speed and full contact, I was still cautious, especially when we were exploring older sites with cobblestones or other uneven ground. Was I being too careful? Maybe. But my knee didn’t hurt and neither of us was overheating or dying from the heat, so… I’d stick to it.

Today we visited the Royal Alcázar of Sevilla. That was the old royal palace in the city, and it was enormous and gorgeous. Connor recognized a few places from Game of Thrones, and though the show hadn’t been my thing, it was kind of cute to watch him fanboy over it. I’d been here several times before, but I still enjoyed wandering through it.

Even better was the Catedral de Sevilla. I’d toured so many cathedrals in my life that I didn’t find them all that exciting. This one, though, was enormous, and it also still had a lot of the Islamic architecture in place from when it was a mosque during the Moorish era.

“Wow,” Connor said as he gazed around the cavernous interior. “When you said this place was big…”

“Right?” I gave it all a sweeping glance. “I don’t usually visit cathedrals, but this one…”

He turned a curious expression on me as we continued walking. “Not a fan of cathedrals?”