Page 82 of One Touch

“Crazier than us declaring our love for one another?”

“Believe it or not, yeah. My mom and I went to a diner, had cheeseburgers and milkshakes, and talked. She apologized for a lot of things.”

“Wow. I don’t know what’s harder to believe in that sentence. That your mom and you had a conversation or that you ate a cheeseburger.”

“Haha. But seriously. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been there.”

“Was it a good talk?”

“Yeah, it was. A really good one. I, um, told my mom about us.”

I squeezed him tighter. “How did she react?”

“Better than I expected. Not that I thought she would disown me, but I always feared she’d use me for a platform. Instead, she said you sounded perfect for me and told me not to give up if I loved you.”

“Wow. Guess I have your mom to thank for that mind-blowing sex,” I teased.

“Gross. Don’t ever use the word mom and sex in the same sentence again.”

“Yeah, okay.” We chuckled, and he turned and stared up at me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about what I found before I jumped to conclusions. That wasn’t fair. I guess all of my childhood shit reared up, and I didn’t give you a fair chance.”

“I get it, but I hope you will in the future. Our relationship won’t work if we both assume things without talking.”

He blew out a breath. “Fair. I’ll work on it.” He dropped his gaze to my chest and his fingers, tracing imaginary shapes. “I’m not ready to come out to the world.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I interrupted.

“I know, Bambi. Let me finish.” I blushed, and he smiled. “But I think I’d be okay telling the team. I’m sick of hiding how I feel around them.”

My heart picked up. This was a big step. “Are you sure? Not everyone will be on board with this.”

“That’s their problem. Besides, outside of a few guys, I’m not Mister Sociable.”

“The team respects you more than you know, baby. Why do you think you were named the alternate captain so young?”

“No one else wanted it?”

I searched his eyes. He truly believed that. “Fuck that noise, Lath. You’re the most amazing man I’ve met. You’re an incredible hockey player, and the team respects the hell out of you. And not for your last name,” I tacked on, seeing the retort on his lips. “But because of you. You’re going to win the Stanley Cup one day, and we all hope to be there when you do.”

“Says the man who has already won one.”

I smiled. “Don’t you get it? Winning one with you tops everything. Besides, I barely played in those games. My team won, but it didn’t feel like I earned it.”

“Only you would say that.” He laughed. I rolled my eyes, and we chuckled together. It was quiet as we stared at one another. “I don’t need to win the Stanley Cup to be happy. I already am.”

I thought hearing him tell me he loved me was the most romantic thing in the world, but in true Lathan fashion, he showed me how wrong I was.

This time, when we came together, he was inside of me. We lay panting together, his arms tight around me, and he kissed my shoulder.

“I might be a bad influence on you.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“You’ve cussed at me twice tonight.”

“It’s not that I don’t cuss, just that most situations don’t call for that level of vigor. Tonight, did.”

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