Page 18 of Cross Ice

But I stayed, forehead pressed to his neck, breathing his warm scent, his heartbeat slowing to match mine.

This. This was what I’d been missing without knowing I was missing it.

Not just sex, though the sex had been phenomenal. But the after. The staying. The quiet intimacy of being in someone else’s space and not wanting to leave. Of lying here and having to talk myself into going instead of looking for a reason to go.

After a moment, I eased out carefully and headed to the bathroom. I took care of the condom and wet a washcloth with warm water. When I came back, I gently cleaned him up. The way he watched me made my throat tight.

“That was…” he started.

“Yeah,” I agreed, because I didn’t have words either.

I dropped the washcloth on the floor beside the bed without thinking. Evan’s eyebrow rose slowly, and I caught the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Right. Hamper,” I muttered. I found it tucked in the walk-in closet, because of course everything in his apartment had a designated place.

I climbed back into bed and reached for him. He came willingly, eagerly even, tucking himself against my side with a small, satisfied sound. His head fit perfectly in the hollow of my shoulder, one hand splayed across my abs, thumb stroking absently along my ribs. I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him closer, and he threw his leg over mine, tangling us together.

This was dangerous territory. Not because I didn’t want it, I did, more than made sense for just two nights in. But wanting more meant being honest about who I was, and I wasn’t ready to find out what that would cost.

But I couldn’t bring myself to move.

“So,” Evan said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Work. You said it’s been crazy?”

I tensed slightly. “Yeah. Busy week. Lots of commitments coming up.”

“Like what?”

“Just… meetings. Events. That kind of thing.” I was being deliberately vague, and I could tell he noticed.

“Very mysterious,” he said, echoing what he’d said at the club.

I changed the subject. “What about you? How’s the consulting going?”

He told me about a current project—something about rebranding for a tech company—and I listened to the sound of his voice more than the actual words. Liked the way he became animated when he talked about work, the way his hands moved even though we were lying down.

“Do you follow hockey at all?” I asked when he finished, trying to sound casual.

“Hockey? Not really. I mean, I know San Jose has a team, but I’m not really into sports.”

Relief and disappointment warred in my chest. Relief that he wouldn’t recognize me. Disappointment that he had no interest in the sport that took up most of my life.

“There’s a Lasers game tomorrow night,” I said. “Tuesday. Against Columbus.”

“Oh?” He didn’t sound particularly interested.

“Yeah. Then they have an away game in LA on Wednesday.”

“Busy schedule,” he murmured, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my chest.

“It is.”

We fell quiet again, and I glanced at my watch. Nine thirty. I should leave soon. I had a game tomorrow night and needed a good night’s sleep. But I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to leave the warm circle of his arms and go back to my empty house.

This was new. I’d never wanted to stay before.

“I should probably get going,” I said reluctantly twenty minutes later. “Early morning tomorrow.”

Evan sat up, and I immediately missed his warmth. “Of course.”