Page 53 of Brace and Chase

“So it’s especially important that we show them we’re no longer fighting and are only focused on the team.”

My breath stalls for a long moment.

I hear what he’s saying, but most importantly, what heisn’tsaying.

Two players kissing isn’t something our team should have to deal with right now. They don’t deserve that from us. As far as the world knows, it’s never happened before. Two players... being together.

Not that Charlie and I are together.

It was just two kisses, but still.

“We can’t fuck them up any more than we already have.” I voice my conclusion.

“Agreed,” Charlie says, resolute. Though the nervous way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat tells me maybe he’s as unnerved by it as I am.

And now I want to lick his throat.

Shit, why has a man’s neck never been sexy like this before? Why now?

“So we’ll stay in line and show them we’re there for them.”

I look back up, into his black eyes, and shift in my seat.

I nod once, then get back to eating. It’s not like I can do or say anything else, is it?

Charlie

There’sno way on God’s green earth I could ever have imagined Nikolay behaving like this. So carefree.

Almost childish.

It’s definitely simple fun, what he’s having, but it’s so innocent... it does not compute.

We decided that even though we’re not playing, we’re not going to change our routines, or well, not more than we already have. So we part ways after eating to get some rest.

After a restless afternoon nap, where I only managed to get about twenty minutes of solid sleep since there was too much to think about, I come down to the kitchen to find Nikolay making omelets and a freshly made protein shake on the counter.

He’s wearing pressed gray suit pants, just like me, but he’s also wearing a lighter gray vest over his button-down shirt. I see the jacket hung over the back of one of the stools. I’ve seen him wearing suits throughout the wholeseason—we all have to dress perfectly for game days—but this time it’s different.

This time I know how that body feels pressed against mine.

“It’s for you,” he says, casual as ever.As if twenty-four hours before he hadn’t wanted to rip my head off.

I can’t manage to say anything but a quiet thank you for the “snack” as he called it, and though I’m comfortable with his presence in my house, the kiss from earlier is still replaying in my head constantly.

It was one hot fucking kiss.

And he’s the one who initiated it that time.

Even though he firmly closed the door on anything like that ever happening again, I still can’t let it go.

When we’re done and we walk out of the house, he stands before me in the driveway and seems to be vibrating with repressed energy when he asks, “Can I drive it?” He gestures to my SUV, and since I’m still feeling the hours of missed sleep, I shrug and toss him the keys.

He grabs them out of the air and sprints to the driver’s side, takes his jacket off again to put it on the back seat, then climbs in. I do the exact same thing, but not at the speed of light, so he’s already seated and fiddling with everything when I settle on the passenger seat.

Watching his eyes light up with excitement as he moves the seat back, as he raises the height of the wheel and moves the position of the mirrors, I can’t block the visceral need to kiss him again.

Instead of following my asinine instincts, I grab onto the “oh shit” handle with one hand and bury the other one beneath my thigh.

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