Page 106 of Fair Catch

Kason

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on yet?” I ask as Hayes pulls me blindly from the cab out onto what seems to be a sidewalk. The cool, winter air hits me like a shard of ice, and I bundle into my jacket a little deeper.

“No,” he says, linking his fingers with mine. “I thought I taught you patience with all those sex lessons we had. Apparently we need a refresher course.”

“Unless you’re planning to fuck me outside in the dead of winter for God knows who to see, I don’t think we’re talking about the same kind of patience,” I remind him, doing my best to keep up with his pace. Which is a lot harder than it seems when Hayes has tugged my beanie down over my eyes in a makeshift blindfold.

“I’m pretty sure the same basic principles apply to any situation—sexual or otherwise,” he reminds me.

We continue down the sidewalk, hand in hand, and I give up on getting any answers. Instead, I do my best to enjoy what my other senses can tell me about where we are. The snow crunches beneath our feet as cars pass and horns honk, alerting me that we’re still near a bustling street, but they quickly start to fade the further we walk. The only thing I can smell is brisk winter air and fresh snow, which came down in heaps while we slept last night.

And as for touch, the only thing I can really focus on is the warmth of his hand in mine, even through the fabric of our gloves.

Hayes stops suddenly and releases my hand before taking a few more steps by himself. The anticipation is damn near killing me, but thankfully, he puts me out of my misery by telling me the words I want to hear.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Pushing my hat back up, I blink as my sight is restored, the bright, snow-covered scene coming into view, complete with a horse-drawn sleigh waiting along a wooded path. I glance from the sleigh to Hayes, finding his eyes shining with a devious glimmer.

All I can do is stare at him. At this man who is nothing like I thought him to be.

Who never fails to amaze me.

Who makes my heart skip a beat whenever he smiles at me the way he is right now.

“A sleigh ride?” I find myself asking.

Hayes nods, glancing over his shoulder at my surprise. “He’s ours for the next hour.”

“You two ready?” the driver—a middle-aged man in a top hat—asks.

Nodding, I follow Hayes up the steps of the sleigh, my heart stumbling and stuttering the entire time. We settle in beside each other, dragging a blanket over our laps as the driver offers us hot chocolate before we’re on our way, slowly riding through what I have to assume is Central Park.

“Are you surprised?”

In more ways than one.

“Uh, yeah. Who knew you were such a closet romantic?” I say with a laugh, shaking my head.

“It’s Christmastime in New York. It wouldn’t be complete without a sleigh ride through Central Park.” He grins before knocking his shoulder into mine. “Well, and ice skating at the Rockefeller, butsomeonesaid no to embarrassing himself in public. So I guess this will have to do.”

“Considering I embarrass myself enough on my own, I don’t think we need to add ice skates to the equation.”

“True,” he murmurs before leaning over and pressing a kiss to my jaw. “But I hope you like it regardless.”

A comfortable silence blankets us like the snow does the Earth, the only sound coming from the horse’s occasional huffs and the bells jingling on the sleigh as we’re led down countless paths of New York’s most iconic park.

Everything about this moment is magical, and though it’s hard for me to pick a favorite I’ve shared with Hayes, I think this might be my new one. Or maybe it’s tied with the moments where we share soft glances and lingering touches, when we’re talking about anything or nothing at all.

It’s the closeness I crave. The vulnerability that he freely shows me when we’re like this.

It’s a side of him I didn’t know existed, one entirely different from the one I met during our unfortunate run-in at the coffee shop back in April.

This one lets me see through some of the cracks in his armor, allows me to capture more of who he is, piece by piece, and I’ve been addicted to it since the very first time he gave me the tiniest glimpse.

Now, I feel like I’ve memorized every morsel of information he’s given me, absorbing them the same way I would a playbook. And with each nugget I learn, I’m beginning to realizethisis the very thing that’s been missing from my life.

Not sex, butintimacy.

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