Page 75 of Cross Checking

17

LUKE

FEBRUARY

Nästa, Kristineberg.

Next stop, Kristineberg. Nine hours, one flight, one train, and one subway ride later, I’m here.

Arriving at the subway station

Erik Norberg

Nice!

Erik tried skipping morning practice to pick me up at the airport, but I told him not to. I’m more than capable of navigating a new city with the help of a map app, and he doesn’t need to rock the boat with his team for my sake.

Rolling my small piece of luggage next to me, I get off the subway and look around for the exit.

“Luke, over here!”

I spin around, and there’s Erik. He’s wearing a baseball hat, an Alvik hoodie that stretches across his broad frame, and his signature shy smile that seems to grow with every step I taketoward him. Even though we’ve stayed in touch, he’s even hotter in real life, hands-down.

“Hey, Erik,” I say. “It’s been ages.”

He opens his stance. “Yeah, definitely.”

We go in for a hug, and the second we touch, it’s like pouring gas on the embers of everything I ever felt for Erik. We go through the motions of giving each other those masculine bro-y back slaps, but I squeeze a little harder than I usually would, and unless my brain is tricking me into thinking what I want to believe, so does he, placing this hug solidly outside friend territory.

And damn, Erik still uses that same cologne that might as well have been customized for his body chemistry.

This trip is gonna wreck me.

Pulling back before things get too intense, I give Erik another friendly clap on the shoulder, and then he leads me out of the station.

“We have an hour and a half before I have to report for my pre-game briefing. Do you want to drop your stuff off at my place and hang out until then?” he asks.

“Oh yeah. I could use a shower, too.”

It’s a short walk to Erik’s apartment, and when I enter, the first thing I notice is how inviting it is: soft lighting, neutral accents, and a pleasant, woodsy smell.

The second thing I notice is the bed that’s pushed against the wall, and all I can think about is Erik railing me on it.

I haven’t even unpacked, and I’m already losing my mind for him.

“Not that you smell bad or anything, but you mentioned wanting to take a shower, so here’s a towel,” Erik says, walking over from the closet and snapping me out of my daydreaming. As he hands the towel to me, I stick my arm out, and our fingersbrush. Neither of us pull back, and we stand frozen, gazing at each other.

Before I met Erik, I never thought that ice blue could be a warm color, but the way he fixes those eyes on meburns.

Somehow, I manage to hold myself back from lunging at Erik, and I place the towel on the bed. I bring my hand to his, clasping the top and running my thumb across the side. Erik draws in a sharp breath before raising his other hand to my chin. Those strong fingers graze my jawline, and I can’t take any more.

I close the short distance between us and brush my lips against his.

Jesus. If touching him made my previous feelings come rushing back, kissing him amplifies them ten times over. Feeling Erik’s tongue slide against mine, our teeth grazing, and his facial hair against my upper lip is too much and not nearly enough.

“Mmm, I can’t wait to lay you out on the bed,” he mumbles.

“God, I need that so bad.” I kiss him back harder. “There’s time before the game, right?”

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