Page 126 of Crease Collision

“You’ve got me there. It’s a big improvement over dodging taxis and tourists.”

We walk quietly while Kai unwinds after the Condors’ morning practice. When we reach a shady spot, he takes my hand.

“You nervous?” I ask as we look at a sculpture made of scrap metal.

“A little,” he admits. “San Jose’s good, but we’re better.”

“That’s the spirit.” I bump his shoulder. “Though I seem to remember someone getting pretty excited watching them last night.”

“Shut up. I was only analyzing their weaknesses.”

“Is that what you call it? Looked more like you were about to have a fit when they scored that power play goal.”

“And at least I didn’t spill beer all over the floor like some people,” he says.

“Hey, that was your fault. You attacked me with a pillow.”

“A love tap. And you’re the one who brought up my… excitement level.”

I laugh. “You do get very excited, you know. When we⁠—”

“Don’t!” He’s blushing even more than usual.

“Why, baby? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re boyfriends.”

He lowers his voice. “I’m not ashamed. But we’re in public, and even though we don’t want to hide, the Cup Finals start in two days. I don’t need stories about Kai the sex maniac all over social media right now.”

I burst into a loud laugh. “Sex maniac?” Then I cover my mouth and glance around. “Sorry. We’re safe, though.”

He gives another scoff they can hear in Stockholm. “You are impossible.”

We come to an area where local artists are selling their work.

“Look at these.” Kai stops at a booth selling quirky prints of New York landmarks. There’s one of Condors Arena with cartoon hockey players skating around the ice. “I like this. Should we get it for the living room?”

“Depends,” I say. “Do they have one with a goalie letting in soft goals?”

“Asshole.”

He asks the artist something I can’t hear, and she digs through some things behind her table.

“Here we are,” she says, holding up a nearly identical print of the Fury’s arena. She looks at me. “You’re the Fury fan?”

“Yes I am, and I want that.” I look at Kai and ask, “How about over by the doors to the balcony? Nothing is hanging there.”

He nods. “Been saving it for something special. These are just right.”

We pay and then walk on. As we near the end of the High Line, I brush his hand. “Should we make vacation plans for after the series? I can work on that while you’re busy winning.”

“Okay. Somewhere warm, but not too hot. Beach, drinks with umbrellas, no hockey.”

“Sounds perfect,” I say, unable to resist looking him over. “But I’m not sure I can handle seeing you in a swimsuit every day.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’ll manage. Any ideas?”

“Hm. Italy maybe? Greece?”

His eyes light up. “I’ve never been to Greece.”