Page 11 of Punchline
At first, itwasjust me. I’d brought over a couple of pizzas, and Carson was turning the kitchen upside down looking for the paper plates.
“Where the fuck are… ” He peered into a cabinet and muttered, “Sakra.”
I snorted. “Swearing in Czech now? You really have been spending too much time around Marek.”
“There’s no such thing as too much time around me,” Marek declared as he walked into the room.
Carson eyed him, though there was fondness in his expression. “Baby, there isdefinitelysuch thing as?—”
Marek muttered something that I thought was more Czech cursing, but Carson reeled him in for a light kiss.
“God, get a room, you two,” I said.
“We have one,” Carson said with a smug grin. “We just can’t use it right now, because we have”—he flailed a hand at me—“guests.”
“One guest,” I corrected, “and you can use your room all you want. I’ll just drink all your beer.”
Marek huffed a laugh. “You think you can drink all that beer in two minutes?”
That earned him a smack to the chest from his boyfriend. “Dude. That’s cold.”
“What? I’m just saying!” Marek showed his palms and grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “You two aredisgusting.”
“Your jealousy is so transparent,” Marek said, grabbing Carson’s ass. “And no, you’re not our only guest.” He checked his phone. “He said he’d be here by puck drop, didn’t he?”
Carson nodded. “Yeah, I think he had another lesson after I left, but he should be—” He paused and craned his neck. “That sounds like his car.”
Then he was heading out of the kitchen.
I turned to Marek. “Who else is coming?”
As he reached into a cabinet and pulled out the paper plates his boyfriend had been looking for, he casually said, “Carson asked Jake to join us.”
I froze. “Jake? As in… As in Jake from the fighting gym?”
Marek turned to me. “Um, yeah?” He studied me, and then he laughed. “Ahh, so Carson was right.” With a wink, he added, “Youdohave a thing for him, don’t you?”
“What? No! I… ” I sputtered, but right then, Jake’s voice filtered in from the front hallway, and I forgot how to speak. Oh, fuck me. He was here? He was here. We were both here. And Carson apparently thought I had a thing for Jake, and now Marek thought I had a thing for him too, and?—
And Jake walked into the kitchen, and yeah, I might’ve had a thing for him.
The double take he did when he saw me caught me by surprise. So did the blush in his cheeks. “Ethan. I… I didn’t realize you were going to be here.” He didn’t sound upset about that—quite the contrary, assuming I wasn’t reading too much between the lines—but he was definitely startled.
“Yeah, I… ” I gestured at Marek. “I always show up when I get to listen to him talk smack about his brother.”
That broke some of the tension, and Jake laughed as he shifted his focus to Marek. “Does he suck or something?”
“Oh God, no.” Marek waved a hand. “He’s an incredible goalie. I just give him shit because he’s my brother.”
“Ah. Yeah. That makes sense.”
“Yep, and it’s almost puck drop,” Carson said. “Everybody get some pizza and beer, and let’s move to the living room.”
We did as we were told, which gave me a blessed distraction from Jake’s presence. At least… until we sat down.
Marek and Carson had a decent place, but it wasn’t huge, and the places to sit were somewhat limited. Carson took one of end of the couch with Marek on the floor between his knees. Jake took the middle. And I took theother end.
