11. KNOX

ELEVEN

KNOX

There'll be an official donation photo between Ezra and the hockey camp the money is going to once the tallies are finalized, but now the game is wrapped up, the media have their photos and quotes, and the teams have changed back into their suits, things feel like they … settle.

Ezra's gathered everyone in a private room back at the hotel for a toast. Players and staff, along with some of the partners, are here, and it almost feels like a family reunion as everybody catches up. Asher's teasing West, Quinn and his partner are huddled in a corner, and Aleks, Oskar, Bilson, and Miles are making plans for later. Tripp and Dex are chatting with Damon King and his partner, and while my three Kikis make polite conversation with some people I don't know, I move away from the two guys I reffed with—after thanking them a million times—and find a quiet corner of the room.

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't make it all the way. I'm a pretty extroverted guy, but I don't think I'd even know what to say in this kind of professional capacity. Look at how quickly Amber was able to twist my words, and that was maybe a three-minute conversation .

"Why are you hiding away over here?"

I jump at the voice and turn to Easton as he approaches.

"Weren't you just over there?"

"I snuck away." He leans against the wall by my side. "Thought you could use the company."

"Does this mean you're done avoiding me over your drunken embarrassment or—" I slump. "You wanted to escape Connor, didn't you?"

"Badly. How can you stand being joined at the hip with him?"

"First, we're only joined at the hip over the summer, and second, it's easy." I lean in like I'm about to share a secret. "His entire life's purpose isn't to look after me, so he doesn't give a shit what I do."

A cute scowl crosses East's face. "The irritating thing is that I can kind of understand Connor interfering in my life. But you as well? New low, Knox."

"Come on, I don't interfere."

He gives me a look. "Right. That's not what led us to all the drunken drunkness the other night. You were on me like a bodyguard, making sure I didn't get into any scandal. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Connor put you up to it, but I know you like your balls where they are and would never do something like that."

A huge pang of guilt hangs over my head because that's exactly what Connor did, but it's not like I spent time with him only because Connor asked. I used that as an excuse to stop him from hooking up with anyone else. "I didn't interfere much ," I argue.

Easton's expression softens. "At least once the season starts again, it's back to hockey and less worrying about … everything else."

I think again about what he said the other night. About wanting that something . Is he really so desperate for more that he doesn't care if it's a scandal? I get the feeling East is smarter than that. Connor knows it too. Uh, deep down. He just has a really hard time showing it when they grew up together and Easton and Lachie were always getting into trouble.

"Well, there's still over a month before that happens, so until then, what can I do to make the interference up to you?"

A sly look crosses East's face.

"No, we're not sleeping together to fulfill some decade-old crush."

"Relax. I know you want me desperately, but I was actually thinking you could bring me a protein shake every morning as soon as training camp starts in a week."

"Or, and hear me out, you could not make me get out of bed that early every day when you know I have to work late at my server job because, unlike you NHL gods, I get paid sweet fuck all in the PWHL."

He rubs his chin. "Fine. What if we sneak away from this wholesome after-party and get started on the real one. I need … I need to be somewhere I can feel like myself, and out of everyone here, I know you won't judge me for it. You can't after the other night."

"What happened to not drinking?" I ask.

"We won't get sloppy again." He pushes off the wall. "But even if we did, you've already seen me at my worst, so there's no topping that."

"I think you could manage."

He swipes a bottle of champagne from the table we pass and then tugs me through a doorway. We're in the room adjacent to the other one. It's smaller and unused, with tables and chairs stacked around the sides.

Easton slinks down on the floor, leaning against the wall, pops the bottle, and takes a long swig.

I join him.

"So why did you really want to get away?" I ask him, wanting to know what he meant by wanting to be himself. "Normally, you're all for the attention."

"I am, but there are only so many times I can answer the same questions. Especially when they're all about Connor."

"There's no way they could all be about Connor."

Easton's eyes hold a challenge. "Oh yeah? How did it feel beating Connor? How was it to play on opposite sides to Connor for once? Wasn't it great that Connor was there to support you? Think you and Connor will break any records this year? Did you and Connor have any bets on the game? When did you come out to your big brother? Oh. And then there's the people asking whether I'm seeing anyone or enjoying being single and able to live out and proud, which at least isn't about Connor but isn't all that much better."

"You don't like that question?"

Easton's face falls. "Why does it have to be either-or? Maybe I'm enjoying being out and proud with a boyfriend. Or maybe I hate the way people have me suddenly under a microscope. There was a fan account the other day going through my photos and trying to figure out who out of my friends I was seeing."

That sets my teeth on edge. "Put your account on private."

Apparently, that's not the answer he's after. "So I don't get to share this life that I love because people don't know boundaries?"

He's got a point. I know he has. Easton's always been smarter about that kind of thing than me. But where I'd rather not deal with the drama and take the easy option, like with his coming out, East can get bullheaded when he's standing up for himself.

"I'm just saying, if it's stressing you out?—"

Easton's glare as he takes another sip makes me stop. "I didn't ask you to come here as a stand-in for Connor, so quit playing the role of my brother and try being my friend. I saw you like that once. You know, back in the day. Messaging you on that hookup app."

Leave it to him to call me out on that. "Fine. You know what? That fucking blows. The whole lot." I take the bottle and drain a good mouthful or so. "Your life is tragic because your brother loves you, and you get to play hockey, and you're so good at it you even have a bunch of fans."

"Jumping straight to patronizing, huh?"

"You make it too easy."

Easton hums, looking around the room. "Sorry about the hit today."

"I can take it."

"You think you can take it. You went down way too easily."

"I'm out of practice. A touch."

We both know I'm talking out of my ass. "You heading home with Connor tomorrow?"

"Sure am. Will I see you around?"

"Not sure yet."

I grin at him, still strangling the bottle. "I can't believe you were going to Prime me a ring."

"A watermelon ring sucker. Don't start thinking you're worth actual gold."

"I bet twelve-year-old Easton thought I was worth gold. All the gold."

"Oh, fuck you, Knox. And that's why I won't be hanging out with you guys."

I'm laughing as he steals the bottle from me. "I'm sorry. No more."

"Too late now."

"Don't be like that."

"Twelve, Knox. I was twelve. Let it go. Move on. I have."

The more he doesn't dispute it as fact, the more I'm beginning to think it wasn't all a ploy to get into my pants to piss off Connor. Or maybe that's wishful thinking. Maybe if I poke the bear some more …

"How am I supposed to move on when it was only a few days ago that I found out? You wanted to marrrrry me. Knox Kikishkin does have a ring to it. Ha, ring."

"Don't make this a thing."

But Easton doesn't understand how big of a thing it is. If he had a crush on me at one point, there's always the chance it could come back. You know, like mine, that hit and then hit some more, and then held on tight all the way up until this moment and will probably continue long after it.

Only, I'm pretty sure what I have is more than a crush. I've dated, I've slept around, I've had a world of life experiences. But I've never been able to shake Easton far from my mind. Whenever he's near, I'm over -aware of him, if that's a thing. Sometimes it even makes me do or say stupid things. Sometimes wanting to be with him is controllable; other times, like, say, after almost a week in close proximity, it rises up and becomes almost unbearable.

I shouldn't say anything to Easton. It would be stupid. Obviously. So stupid and pointless, and there'd be nothing we could get out of it, but …

"What if I evened the score?"

… my stupid mouth doesn't listen.

East eyes me, and I take the bottle, needing a sip to wet my mouth and loosen my conscience. "What do you mean?"

It's too late now, which is exactly the excuse I wanted to give myself when I put that out there. Now, I have to follow up with something, and it might as well be a roundabout half-truth. The kind that will make sure once we're back home that he won't stay away. Going back to passing moments once the season starts is one thing, but for the next few weeks, we're in the same city, and I don't want to take the option of catching up with him off the table.

"This stays between us."

He straightens, eyes gleaming. "Yeah, of course. "

"So it's possible that I maybe wasn't prepared for seeing you after college."

His curiosity is switched out for confusion. "Huh?"

"At your twenty-first. And then for maybe like …" What's a reasonable enough timeframe? "A couple of months, I might have sort of had a crush on you too." It definitely wasn't when he was nineteen and came home for the first time and is still holding strong four years later.

His mouth drops, and I hate the way hope wells behind his eyes.

"But I don't anymore," I hurry to correct. "Like you, I got over it. Barely worth mentioning. I'm only telling you now because I'm a dumbass, apparently, but also because I didn't want you to be embarrassed anymore." I know I should stop talking, but I don't. "It's kinda nice to know."

"You had a crush on me?" He sounds like he's gone into shock.

I laugh to try and clear some of the awkwardness. "Now who's making it into a thing?"

He shakes his head like his ears have taken on water. "Sorry, but … you . You had a crush on me ?"

"You grew up a lot in college, and we hadn't seen each other in, what, a year? You're hot. We spend a lot of time in each other's peripheries, it was bound to happen at some point. Then we both grew up."

"Yeah … wait. No." His smile is unhinged. "College was only two years ago. You had a crush on me two years ago." At least one of us is finding this amusing.

"First year of college. So more like five years ago."

Easton reaches down and tugs his button-up from his suit pants, then lifts his shirt so I can see his abs. My eyes linger on them way too long.

"You're telling me if I got these babies out back then that something might have happened?"

"No." I have to be firm about that. For both of us .

Easton's glee shutters, and he drops his shirt. "Right. Connor."

"Don't say his name like that."

"I'm sorry." He puts on a preppy voice. "Right. Connor ."

I sigh. "None of it matters now anyway. You didn't get your abs out. I didn't have to worry about your brother pounding my head in. Our crushes disappeared, and all is right in the world." But still … my mouth. My fucking mouth. "Would you have?"

Easton looks confused, so I try again.

"Back then. If you knew … would you have gotten those abs out?"

His eyes meet mine.

I get lost in the deep gray, and it feels like the air in the room funnels right to the point where we're sitting.

"Yeah," he says. "I would have." The air between us is thick with tension. It only builds when he lowers his voice. "I would have gotten them out the other night too."

Holy shit. It looks like neither of us has control of our mouths. "You were drunk."

He still hasn't looked away. "So were you."

I lick my suddenly dry lips, and his gaze breaks from mine to track the movement. That one simple action is weighty because it tells me exactly what's on his mind. It's on my mind too. For all the talk of old times and past crushes, Easton wants to kiss me. And I want to kiss him. Here and now.

There's a stream of warning running through my mind about why I shouldn't and how risky this is and that Con could walk in at any moment. I'm also very, very aware that even thinking about this makes me the worst friend in existence, but … I've been strong. East is not an easy man to resist, and I've done it for so long, I'm tired. I want this. Just this once. To finally know what he tastes like. To finally know if my fantasies measured up.

I'm still so conflicted as I shift closer to him .

"You know …" I start, then stop myself.

"What?"

"Well, I was going to say. I'm here. And you're here. And …"

"We're both here."

"Right." I clear my throat because this isn't coming out right. "I've pictured kissing you," I whisper in a rush. "A lot."

"You did?"

"Yeah." It's easier than I thought it would be to admit. The guilt tries to take over, but I push it aside, prepared to deal with it later. It's impossible to keep fighting this pull I have toward him. "You wouldn't want to … you know …? Once. As a way to settle old crushes?"

Easton is staring at me with a look I can't interpret. "You want me to kiss you?"

"Only if you want to."

Bitterness fills his eyes. "What about Connor?"

"Can we … maybe not talk about your brother?"

"Okay …" He eyes me with interest, shifts a little closer. "No Connor. Just us."

"Just us."

"Where you want to kiss me."

I groan, semi-embarrassed. "East …"

"So do it."

Easton is holding his breath.

I'm holding mine. He's given me permission, and now all I have to do is follow through.

My heart is racing over the thought of finally getting to touch the most beautiful man I've ever seen.

But am I brave enough to do it?

The sweet hope in his expression shifts slightly, but before he can second-guess, I grab his jacket and tug him to me.

The second our lips touch, I'm terrified because that's all the time it takes to know that I've made the worst mistake of my life .

East's lips are as soft as I always thought they would be. He melts in my hold the way I imagined. His jaw fits in my hand with the exact perfection I'd always assumed it would, and as we kiss, as my guts fill with helium and my heart feels too big to contain, I work out that there's only one thing worse than your dream man being nothing like you thought he would be.

And that's your dream man being everything you imagined.

His fingers tangle in my hair, mouth clinging to mine with the same desperation I have in my chest. Easton Kikishkin is kissing me like he never wants to stop, and somehow, I have to find the strength to make that happen.

One more second.

Maybe one more.

I can't bring myself to pull away.

Neither can he.

And then Easton lets out a deep, gravelly groan that snaps me right out of it because I know that if I don't stop kissing him now, this is going to go places we'll never come back from.

I ease back slowly, and as Easton tries to follow, I laugh.

"That was one hell of a kiss," I say without meaning to.

His eyes blink open. "I'll say."

His hands are still in my hair, and I'm still holding his face as we work on catching our breath together.

"Thank you," he finally says.

"Thank you right back."

Easton falls backward onto the floor. "I never, ever thought that would happen."

"Me either."

I'm still in shock from the kiss and how good it felt. Kinda dumbstruck that it happened at all.

"Twelve-year-old me is totally high-fiving me right now."

We smile, but we both sound like we're still trying to catch our breath.

Neither of us mentions Connor, which is for the best because I'm struggling to keep the guilt away as it is. Even without saying it out loud, the agreement is clear. He will never know.

And somehow, I need to go back to my life and forget that, for one moment, East and I had something. Something just ours.