Page 132 of Rookie Recovery

And that was what mattered. That we all shared the love for this silly, amazing game.

I was always the last one off.

In part because I always volunteered to pull the nets for the zam—I was the fastest by a lot and the least drunk. And in part because I never wanted to fucking leave, to trade the ice for solid ground. I could have stayed out there forever, like when I was a kid.

But I hopped off. Only to barrel into a lithe blond figure with his shoulder tipped against the boards. Waiting for me. A massive, cocky grin stretched over his distractingly beautiful face. “You smell.”

“Will you still kiss me?” I crowded him into the glass, and he made no move to push me away as I leaned my head down towards him.

“Well, okay. Yeah.” He pecked at my mouth, both of us smiling too much to make it a full kiss, then nudged me away to straighten up off the boards. “I like the half-shield.”

“It fogs.” I tapped the butt of my stick against the new plastic shield across the upper part of my helmet. “But this guy I love is worried about protecting my pretty face, so …”

“Oo, tell me about this guy.” Bowie fell into stride next to me as I headed for the locker room. “Is he cute?”

“Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be?”

He laughed. “I was thinking of sitting naked on the exam table of this hot doctor I know. Like, maybe he’ll walk in and be all outraged and shocked and then rail me anyway cause he’s sexy and likes my body.”

“Wouldn’t count on it.” I tipped a shoulder against the wall outside the locker room. I wasn’t ready to go in—to leave him—yet. Or ever. Good thing I didn’t have to. “Doctors can be so uptight.”

“One day, Sullivan,” he sighed. “One day.”

“Don’t you have a hot new boyfriend or something?” I tilted a brow towards him. “Maybe your hot boyfriend wants to take you to his condo and rail you there. Maybe in the shower?”

“Ooh, or on top of the washing machine!” He clapped his hands. “For the extra vibration.”

“Or in bed?” I bit back my smile. “Like normal people?”

“Boring.”

“I’m old-fashioned,” I huffed.

“You’re old.”

“You’ll still do me.”

He sighed, donned an expression of faux disappointment for a moment, then grinned again. Dragged his eyes from my skates to my helmet. “Accurate. Very accurate. But, I have dinner plans first. And aren’t you supposed to call your mum?”

I groaned. “Yeah. Right.”

He was the one crowding into me now, melding his hard, honed body against mine. “Don’t forget, you said you were going to introduce us.”

I layered a kiss onto his nose. “Yup. You regret it yet?”

“No way.” He vibrated with excitement against me. “I love meeting parents. I’m good with mums.”

“Sure. Right.”

He pecked me on the mouth and stepped back. “Go shower. I have a hot boyfriend to cook dinner for and I don’t want you to make me late.”

As per, I couldn’t decide between a groan and a smile.

Bowie hummed as he took control of the kitchen. I’d gotten used to watching him bustle around, in that silly pink apron and his oven mitts, some ridiculous tune on his lips and Brady bopping at his heels, waiting for him to accidentally-on-purpose drop a bite of chicken or a hunk of bread.

It was the most heartwarming, adorable thing I’d ever seen. It made my big, cold, rich-bachelor condo feel like a home. And I loved it. I could barely tear my eyes away long enough to head for the couch in the living room.

I paused beside the far wall to peer through the window to the bright fall evening stretched across the city below. Clear blue skies, dimming as the sun tucked into the horizon. Light traffic dotted streets lined in silver and steel. Intermingling with trees highlighted by orange and red leaves, a reminder that nature lurked right around the corner.

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