Page 79 of Overtime

Then, as if in a trance, under the spell of being offered something he desperately wanted, he slipped into Zee’s room.

Zee was sitting on his bed, back to the headboard, fingers buried in his hair. He jerked upright as Ishir opened the door, eyes widening.

Ishir didn’t say anything. He padded over to him, climbing onto the mattress from the other side and slipping under the sheets.

Zee didn’t move for long enough that Ishir said, “Well, get down here.”

Zee did so at once, wiggling in beside him and crowding Ishir, pressing him to the bed.

The weight of Zee’s body over him released a knot that had been lodged in Ishir’s chest for weeks. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Zee.

Zee buried his face into Ishir’s neck. “Okay?” he asked even as he scented him.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Zee shuddered. “Thank you.”

Ishir didn’t have the strength to admit that this was as much for him as it was for Zee.

Zee combed his fingers through Ishir’s hair, scratching his scalp slowly, palming his shoulders, his jaw. Ishir leaned up and rubbed his forehead on the scent gland a few inches underneath Zee’s ear, making him shiver again.

They scented each other like family. Like mates.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Ishir suggested eventually, when the light from the bedside lamp became too much.

Zee turned it off, shifting him so that they were slotted together, Ishir the little spoon as always.

Ishir closed his eyes.

Everything smelt like them.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ishir woke up in the exact same position he’d fallen asleep in, as if he hadn’t moved a single muscle while unconscious. He breathed in slowly, willing reality to hold off for a little while longer.

Zee remained knocked out, his large body on him, leg and arm thrown over Ishir possessively.

There was no lying to himself—Ishir wanted Zee so badly he didn’t know what to do with the feeling. It was a love that was bigger than him. That was eating him up, consuming him.

He let it bite at him for a second, for two, three, four, and then he locked it up, folding it up again, and again, and again, an origami of yearning, and hid it away.

His friendship with Zee couldn’t survive if he kept indulging that emotion, and their bond was worth more than this pointless pining.

He untangled himself, ignoring the way Zee’s arms tightened reflexively.

“I gotta get up,” Ishir said quietly as Zee rumbled unhappily.

Zee let him go, and Ishir padded out of the room, leaving the nest of them behind.

The playoffs continued, the second round hitting them hard from the beginning.

It was the Cats against the Gotham Hounds, a battle seeped in generations of animosity. On the ice, it didn’t matter that Olive and Levy were their friends or that Gabby was their captain’s mate. Every single person out there was going for the win, and nobody cared if blood had to be spilt on the way there.

Still, Ishir wondered how Orion handled it, the war between his dreams for a third Stanley and his relationship with Gabby.

Zee shrugged when Ishir voiced his doubts. “I mean, I think those things just coexist, right? At the end of the day, O goes home and that’s hismatethere. No matter what happened that day, that doesn’t change. That kinda shit just makes you stronger.”

Ishir imagined it—a love so secure that not even the rage and desperation of the playoffs could shake it. “Yeah. Sounds nice.”

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