Page 83 of Breaking the Ice
“Ugh, Christmas plans,” Gavin said. “Which was somehow way better than discussing the power play.”
Zach chuckled darkly. “I’ve noticed you haven’t really talked about the break coming up.”
“It’s only a couple of days,” Gavin said. He should ask Zach what he was doing. Not because he’d invite him to his own non-celebration if he was at a loose end. Zach had friends. A lot of friends, actually.
It shouldn’t be going to Gavin’s head or his heart or dick that Zach often pickedhimover all those friends, these days. He should gently push him away, but he was using up all hisfucking self-control to not just cross the line and anything else was impossible.
“So you’re going to work through it?” Zach asked.
Gavin leaned over to pull on his sneakers. “Yeah,” he said. He didn’t want to explain why and he hoped Zach might understand without him going into it.
Nodding, Zach turned, and Gavin got a brief glimpse of broad shoulders, muscles rippling.
Life was fucking unfair, that was the truth.
“You know I’m not going anywhere either,” Zach said casually. But Gavin knew that it wasn’t. He knew all of Zach’s tones and all of his expressions by now, and he wastryingtoo hard to act like it was no big deal.
“Not going home?”
“I’ve got a paper due, and then there’s the team,” Zach said.
Gavin wanted to tell him that the team would be fine. That he’d be working his way through everything they needed to do. Heshouldtell him that. But he opened his mouth and something else came out. “You should come over,” he said, failing just about as epically as Zach had at being casual, “watch some game tape with me. Eat pizza. Drink a few beers.”
“That sounds great.” Zach’s bright smile, lighting up the whole fucking room—and Gavin’s heart, too—told him it was a mistake.
But he didn’t take it back. Because he didn’t want to.
Gavin kept telling himself it was no big deal.
It was just a massive fucking holiday and he’d invited Zach over because he could deal with being alone for it—he’d managed alright the last few years, anyway—but Zach didn’t deserve that.
He’d tidied up the living room. Ordered pizza, which he was keeping warm in the oven, and even added cheesy breadsticks, because he knew Zach loved them and it was Christmas.
There were four games cued up on his tablet, which he’d already hooked to his TV. His laptop was charged, ready to make notes or to look up various players or stats.
Gavin wiped his damp palms on his jeans and considered ducking into the bathroom again to check his hair, which was stupid.
This was not a date. It was awork meeting.
For a very stupid split second, he considered that he should’ve changed the venue from his living room to his office, because then he wouldn’t be giving confusing signals.
But spending Christmas in his goddamn office was depressing, even for Gavin, and he wasn’t going to subject Zach to that.
There was a knock at the front door.
Gavin wiped his palms again and walked over, opening it to Zach.
He was wearing a dark green Evergreens sweatshirt, the hood up against the drizzling rain, and the color brought out the green tint of his eyes.
He was so gorgeous even like this, pale and half-soaked from the rain, backpack slung over one shoulder and carrying a six pack of Gavin’s favorite beer.
“Merry Christmas,” Zach said as Gavin let him in.
“Oh yeah, Merry Christmas,” Gavin said reflexively.
Zach shot him a look that was half sorrow and half understanding, and Gavin wanted to fling himself on him, all over again.
“Brought you a present,” Zach said, gesturing with the beer in his hand as he set his backpack down by the couch.
