Page 149 of The Head Game

“It was a selling point when I bought the place,” Nico said, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against August’s shoulder.

“Mine’s a lot more humble. The house is nice enough, someone remodeled it before I bought the place, but it’s a little less luxurious.”

“I’d like to see it someday,” Nico said. “Meet Marty.”

August’s chest rumbled with a laugh. “God, I felt like such an idiot when Kate learned what I’d named my fish.”

“She thought it was great.”

“Mmm.” August sounded skeptical.

“No, really.” Nico felt sleepy. Not in a tired way but he could feel the tension draining from his body, his breathing syncing to August’s, slow and deep behind him. “Ever met him?”

“Martin Foster? No. I’ve only seen old footage of his playing.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“You’ve met him?”

The awe in August’s voice made Nico smile.

“Yup. A handful of times. He pops into the practice rink occasionally when he and his wife are visiting Kate. He’s been known to strap on some skates even. I think he used to play in the alumni charity games but that was a while ago.”

“God, I’d love to see that.”

“Well, I’ll let you know if he’s around at some point.”

“Thanks.”

Nico smiled. “Hey, on Friday we need to go to the arena for the holiday skate. It’s for the team and families and staff and all that.”

“You want me there?”

“Well, it would look weird if my fiancé didn’t show up,” Nico pointed out. “Besides. I’m going to need moral support. I’m not allowed on the ice. Even if I wear a helmet.”

“Well, yeah,” August said. “You slip and fall and …”

Nico grimaced at the mental image of his skull caving in like a squashed melon. He got it, but he still hated it. “I miss it though.”

“I know.” August sighed. “God, I think this is the longest I’ve ever gone without skating either.”

“Hey, you can still skate,” Nico said, craning his neck to look at him. “Just because I can’t doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“Right, but I’m supposed to be moral support.”

“Ehh, I’ll cheer you on from the bench. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the scrimmages that break out. Hey, what position do you play?”

August laughed and slid his hands up and down Nico’s arms. “I feel like we did this backwards. Got engaged, then got to know each other.”

“I think that’s what happens when you blurt it out about a guy you’ve only fucked once.”

“Right, there’s that.” August was silent for a moment. “I’m a centerman.”

“Huh.” For some reason, Nico would have pegged him as a stay-at-home defenseman. Solidly guarding the net and netminder.

Or maybe a goalie. They were always deeply weird and neurotic.

“That was the other thing,” August continued. “When I realized I was gay and decided the NHL wasn’t an option for me, my on-ice position was a factor too. At least then, everyone always talked about how defense was easier to break into than offense. I knew I’d be competing with more people for a highly sought after position. It added more pressure to stay in the closet and I didn’t want that.”

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