Page 92 of Goalie Interference

Ander

Thank the hockey gods for road trips that line up. It’s been a month since I last saw Nikolai and while daily phone calls and dirty texts are nice, they don’t compare to being in the same room together. It’s much nicer to jerk each other off as opposed to doing it separately over FaceTime. And it’s way more fun having him suck me off, or even better, fuck me into the mattress like he just finished doing.

This hotel room in Anaheim had better be soundproof. Otherwise, Gavin and Connor just got a taste of their own medicine.

“What time do you have to leave for your game?” I ask Nikolai when he returns from the bathroom with a warm washcloth that he uses to clean off the mess he and I both made on me.

He checks his watch. “Bus leaves at four. We have two hours.”

“Perfect timing then,” I say. My team arrived here at the hotel at noon while his team was having morning skate, followed by a team meeting to prepare for tonight’s game.

“Yes,” he says as he crawls back into bed with me. He pulls the sheet and blanket over us, then settles his head down onto the pillow before curling an arm around me. “Even more perfect that you got Tavish to vacate your room for afternoon.”

“Oh, that was easy.” I laugh. “I just told him that you were coming over and he was welcome to stay if he wanted. He chose to go to the beach with some of the other guys instead.”

“Smart man.” Nikolai kisses the back of my neck.

I relax further back against him and luxuriate in the feeling of lying skin to skin. His body feels so solid against mine. Sturdy. Strong. I can definitely get used to this.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he says. His breath tickles the back of my neck.

“Is it weird that I’m looking forward to the offseason?”

“Do we not all look forward to offseason?”

“I don’t,” I say, surprised he doesn’t feel the same. We’re professional hockey players. Playing in the league has been all of our dreams. And we’re all extremely lucky to live that dream, which is why up until now I’ve always dreaded it. “I used to always hate the offseason.”

“Why is that?” he asks as he rolls me onto my back. He presses two fingers to my chin and turns my head to face him. He’s lying on his side, looking at me with a tender expression. Soft, sated eyes, a lazy smile, and slightly messy hair.

“I get lonely during the summer,” I say, feeling a hollowness in my chest that lived within me so deeply this past summer. “I miss the guys, you know? That constant daily companionship. My friends. There’s nothing like it. And then summer hits and I’m just… alone.” I bite my lip and he uses his thumb to free it from between my teeth before he leans forward and kisses me lightly.

“I understand that,” he says. “But only recently. I was never on a team where I felt like team missed me when I was not around. It is new with Mules.”

“This past summer was really hard for me.” I don’t know what it is about Nikolai, but he makes me want to confess all my secrets. Secrets I don’t really tell anyone. People like me tend to be goofy and funny and always playing around. Nikolai, however, gives me space to not always put on a show. “Everything changed. Brandon was too busy. Tavs got married. Gavin always disappears to Alaska but even that felt different. It just really struck me this summer how lonely it is to play hockey.”

“Yes.” He grins. Mischief appears in his eyes. “So lonely when we share hotel rooms, fly on planes together, take rookies in to live with us, practice every day, and have games every other.”

“Okay.” I laugh. “When you say it like that it’s not lonely at all. But when it’s over, the adjustment is harder on me than I like to admit.”

His expression softens again. “You think this summer will be different?”

“Maybe,” I say, quieter now. I roll my lips between my teeth.

“You usually go to Green Bay, yes?” he asks.

I nod my head. “And you probably want to stay in St. Louis.” Or, oh God, what if he wants to go back to Russia for a few months? That possibility hasn’t managed to cross my mind once yet. But in my defense, he said he hasn’t gone back in years, so I guess I’ve always assumed that America is what he considers his home now.

“Maybe we can split our time in half,” he says.

Alright, that’s not bad. Half of the offseason together is better than none of it. “Are you thinking first half or second half?”

His brow furrows. “First or second half of what?”

“Oh.” It dawns on me. Shaking my head, I look up at the ceiling and start to talk out logistics. “You were thinking in the middle. That’s smart. Break it up so it doesn’t feel so long.”

“Ander.” He slides his fingers through my hair, then nudges me to look at him again. “I meant we can spend summer wherever you want.”