Page 19 of Cross Ice

I moved slowly as we got dressed, dragging it out, then Evan walked me to the door, and we stood there for a moment in the small entry area.

“I want to see you again,” I said. Not a question.

His mouth curved.

“Thursday—” I’d almost said, “The day after my away game,” but caught myself. “Six okay?”

“Thursday works.”

I kissed him goodbye, soft and lingering. When I pulled back, I wanted to say something about how much I’d liked tonight, how I couldn’t wait to see him again.

But actions worked better than words. I’d show him on Thursday.

The ride down in the elevator felt longer than the ride up. I stood there alone, replaying the way Evan had looked at me before I left, soft and open in a way he hadn’t been Friday night.

This wasn’t a hookup anymore. I’d known it when I’d asked for Thursday instead of leaving it vague.

I wanted more. To see him again and again. Learn everything about him. Not just what made him come apart in bed, but what he watched on TV, what made him laugh, what his Sundays looked like. To fall asleep with him and wake up next to him and do all the domestic shit I’d never wanted with anyone else.

The lying gnawed at me. Not outright lying, but letting him think I was just some guy who worked in sports when I was actually a star forward for the San Jose Lasers with a multi-million-dollar contract.

I should tell him.

But I thought about that apartment. No photographs anywhere, not one. Abstract art on the walls instead of anything personal. The way he’d deflected at the club when conversation turned toward him, the way he’d mentioned the breakup and the move to San Jose like he was reading from a document. Whatever had happened before, he’d built something careful here. Something that didn’t leave much visible.

Dropping the full weight of who I was on someone mid-goodbye felt wrong. He deserved better than that.

I’d find the right time. Soon. Before it got too serious.

The elevator doors opened into the parking garage. I walked to my car and told myself that was true.

CHAPTER FOUR

Evan

I told myself I wasn’t watching the clock.

I was working, reviewing a client’s brand positioning document that needed feedback by Friday. But my eyes kept drifting to the time in the corner of my MacBook screen.

Nico would be here in thirteen minutes.

My phone buzzed on the desk.

Nico

Running 5 min late. That okay?

Evan

No problem. See you soon.

He’d texted to let me know he was running late. Considerate. Respectful of my time. Ryan never would have bothered.

Stop comparing them.

I closed my laptop, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and straightened the throw pillows on the couch, even though they were already straight. I was nervous, which was ridiculous, but tonight felt different. Like we were crossing some invisible line from “random hookup” to something else.

I was still thinking about that when he called from the garage.