Page 44 of Overtime

Another quiet stretch. If Ishir concentrated hard enough, he could hear Zee breathe.

“You can clean up, if you want,” Zee murmured softly.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll, uh…I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay. I can go.”

Ishir nodded even though the camera wasn’t pointing at him. “Okay. Bye.” He hung up.

He scrubbed his clean hand over his face.

There was a certain hopelessness to what was happening. A dead end heading his way.

He could enjoy it while it lasted, though, right? At some level, Zee wanted him. Not all of him. Not the way Ishir longed for him.

But it was better than nothing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

They didn’t talk about it because why would they? That would be the reasonable, sane thing to do, and Ishir and Zee were anything but.

Honestly, Ishir needed some space from Zee after arriving home, but Zee had obviously been lonely and bored to tears, asking to hang out, to go to the rink with him.

It was hard not to cave-in to those puppy-dog eyes, damn him, especially when he was wobbling around pathetically on one good leg.

“Oh God,” Zee groaned as he sat on the couch. “Why did we choose a two-floor walk-up?”

“You used the words ‘original moulding’ and ‘lots of light’ when you chose this place, so I didn’t argue,” Ishir replied, collapsing beside Zee. Practice had been worse than usual, a consequence of the embarrassing 7-3 loss in their last road game.

“I was talking outta my ass. I have no idea what mouldingis.”

“I’m absolutely shocked by this fact,” Ishir drawled.

Zee ignored him. “We shoulda gotten one of those fancy places in Manhattan with two elevators and a gym and stuff.”

“Why would we need a gym?”

“I mean—not to use it. Just to have it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ishir said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Your face is ridiculous,” Zee grumbled. “Stop being mean to me.”

“Mmm…no.”

Zee shoved him and then went, “No, no, I’m hurt, you can’t hit me,” as Ishir tried to shove him back.

“I’m hanging out in my room,” Ishir declared, bracing himself to get up.

Zee immediately latched onto his arm. “Don’t leave me.”

Ishir tried to wiggle out from his grasp, but Zee was barnacled on. “Jesus Christ, it’s like you have tentacles.”

“YouwishI had tentacles.”

“I’m not acknowledging or reacting to that statement.”

Zee waggled his eyebrows, making Ishir laugh and give up on his mission to untangle himself from him.

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