Because suddenly, Gavin let go and that open, needy look on his face shuttered closed.
He leaned away.
Zach felt lost. What had just happened? Had he done something wrong?
No,Hayes told him,you just have to keep being patient.
If that had been hard before, it felt fucking impossible now. Weeks, maybe even months.Years, possibly, of this impossibility stretching out in front of him.
And maybe at the end of it, whenever it ended, it wouldn’t even be the way Zach wanted.
“Sorry,” Gavin murmured, looking away. “I . . .sorry.”
It was like hitting rock bottom at the base of the cliff.
Zach shook his head, trying to clear it from the panic shooting through him, but he couldn’t.
He could end up just like Hayes.
Stuck in shadows. Loving someone he couldn’t ever have.
You don’t know that. But the pep talk didn’t work as well as it might’ve once.
“What are you sorry for?” Zach hadn’t intended to ask the question, but he felt stripped bare of artifice.
Gavin slid off the table. Shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Still didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t mean . . .I didn’t mean . . .”
Part of Zach wanted to retort that he sure fucking did mean it. That he’d meant it less than five minutes ago. That they’d been a breath away from meaning all kinds of things.
But then he remembered how Gavin had just emerged from four years in the middle of fucking nowhere, mourning his wife. How he’d sounded when he’d told Zach how old they’d been when he’d met her.
It was unfair for Zach to expect him to juststopmourning her.
No matter how he felt about it.
“It’s okay,” Zach said, even though he wasn’t sure he one-hundred-percent meant it.
“We should—Ishould, uh, get back home. It’s late.”
It wasn’t that late. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and they’d talked on the phone that late plenty of times.
But maybe . . .well,maybeit would be a good idea to go their separate ways. Zach wasn’t sure his heart—or his dick—could take any more close calls tonight.
“Alright,” Zach said, trying to sound casual. Like he wasn’t still half-living in that moment five minutes ago.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Gavin waved awkwardly in the general direction of his rental house. Zach’s wasn’t really in the opposite direction, and part of him wanted to argue they could walk at least some of the way there together. But forcing himself on Gavin wasn’t going to do him any favors.
“Yeah,” Zach agreed. They didn’t have an official practice on the books—just the game on Sunday. But he knew he’d be in the gym, and at the rink, and in his office, going over the tape from tonight’s game.
“Okay.” Gavin gave him one single nod, and then Zach was just about to turn away when he heard a whispered obscenity under Gavin’s breath and suddenly Gavin was pulling him into a tight hug.
It was quick—almost before Zach realized what was happening, it was over.
“Great win tonight,” Gavin said and then he was striding off, like if he stayed then he might do it again. And longer, this time. Andmore.
Zach waited until he was nearly out of sight and definitely out of hearing range before he pulled his phone out.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hayes answered on the first ring.