20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Shane

Nineteen Years of Age

“ I sn’t it Chloe's birthday today?” I asked.

Chloe was the girl he was sort of seeing and last I checked he really liked her. Though I tried not to check too often—it was too painful. But it made me wonder why we were chilling on his couch watching hockey

“Yeah.”

I frowned. For someone who always had something to say, he was oddly tightlipped. “Not going to see her then?”

Eli simply shrugged. “I'd rather be here with you.”

“Did something happen?”

I couldn’t quite read his expression, but it was… strange.

“we fooled around, but I don't know—there wasn't a spark. She’s really pretty but I guess that’s all there is to it.”

“Well, that's okay; you don't have to like everyone you kiss.”

“Maybe your casual hookup approach isn’t for me.”

I sighed, knowing I was keeping a big secret from Eli. He was none the wiser that I was out chasing dick, and I had a few regular hookups that didn’t mind staying at their place—but they weren’t who I truly wanted.

I nudged his shoulder. “You’ll find the one when you're ready.”

He attempted a smile that quickly became genuine when I changed the subject to hockey, leaving him babbling away as usual.

Present

I held Eli until his breath slowly evened out and he fell asleep. But my mind was spinning. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would get to kiss him, let along know what his cock felt like gliding along my own. I’d fantasized what he’d look like falling apart under my hand, but the real thing was utterly beautiful. That face would be engrained in my memory for the rest of my life. When he said he never felt that before, I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant—but I hoped it was exactly what I felt. I always knew that having Eli Michaels in my bed would be a religious experience but the true magnitude of it was much more… remarkable.

At some point, I must have dozed off because the early morning light seeping through the blinds woke me. I rolled to search for Eli’s body only to find his side of the bed cold. My heart stopped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to quell the panic. My worst fear was him realizing that anything with me was a mistake.

I reluctantly got out of bed and dressed, padding down the hall to the living room. Eli sat in front of his laptop, black thick-rimmed glasses on his face and speaking fluent French to whoever he was consulting with. He was dressed for a day at the office—and I hardly recognized him. My eyes met Cal, who stood at the bench with wide eyes.

Commotion sounded behind me, and I turned to see Tyler and Hunter wrestling their way to the kitchen in nothing but their underwear. Their loud laughter had Eli's head whipping up from the computer, muttering an apology in French. I snapped to get the guys’ attention, silencing them with a finger to my mouth as it sounded like Eli tried to wrap up the call. After a couple minutes, he closed his laptop. His shoulders slumped, one hand removing the glasses so he could rub his eyes with the other.

“I probably just lost that fucking deal.” Both Hunter and Tyler began to apologize, but Eli silenced them with a single hand. “Forget it. I shouldn't have thought I could work remotely. I just have to hope dad doesn't lose it when I get back to the office.”

The way he said it made it sound like him being back at the office was something that would happen soon—and it made my heart sink.

“I don't speak French, but it sounded like you sold it to me.” Cal interjected, hoping to make Eli feel better.

Hunter scoffed, “that's only because you find it hot that he speaks French.”

“Duh. You good for me to make my shake now Eli?”

Eli mumbled something in the affirmative and gathered his stuff, brushing past me without so much as a passing glance.

I gritted my teeth and followed him, quietly closing the door behind me. “Do you regret last night?” I blurted.

Eli’s gaze snapped to mine. “No—I told you I wanted it. Why would you think that?”

“Because you were gone this morning.”

“I had work to do, Jarman.”

“Shane,” I corrected him.

“Fine, Shane. I have a serious job and it doesn't stop because of the holidays.”

I huffed, but dropped the subject and went back to the living room.

“Since when could Mouse speak fluent French?” Tyler asked, astonished.

“He taught himself so he could speak French on a Canadian team.”

“Why didn’t he go pro?” Tyler asked. “He’s more than capable.”

“The moment we went to college his dad really amped him up about following in the family footsteps. Eli stopped talking about going pro in freshman year.”

Tyler pulled a face, mirroring my thoughts exactly. “Those footsteps seem to be leading him into quicksand. He’s sinking and losing sight of who he is.”

I couldn’t have agreed with Tyler more.

The whole point of bringing Eli home was to get him away from Boston—but it only seemed to have followed him. It was New Year’s Eve, and he was sitting at his computer pulling at the ends of his hair—exactly like he’d been doing since the day he arrived.

“Yeah, I know, Dad. Working with four other people in the house means interruptions. I think I smoothed it over with them.”

Mr. Michaels’s gruff voice echoed back, but I wasn’t close enough to hear what he said.

“I know, sir. Yes, I’ll come back soon.”

My stomach lurched. It had been a couple days since our midnight frotting session and outside of our usual cuddling, there hadn’t been any repeats. More often than not, Eli was in bed after I was asleep and out before I awoke.

He hung up and his body language had me thinking we were back to square one, where I wondered if it was okay for me to touch him—where he no longer had that spark in his eyes. Then, as if he could sense my presence, he looked up and met my gaze. A sad smile came to his lips. “Are we doing anything for New Years?”

I hadn't made any plans. Hunter and Tyler were gone, and Cal had some mystery plans I wasn’t privy to. I was just going to have a chill night in.

But then I got an idea, and I couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips. “Get changed into something warm.” I raced to the bedroom first, hoping he would take his time packing up his work stuff so I could keep the surprise. I grabbed my skatebag, then grabbed Eli’s pair that I’d stashed in my suitcase. After changing myself, I passed him in the hall—ignoring his quizzical look.

I thanked my lucky stars he didn't take too long, just enough time for me to clear my plan with my boss.

Eli came out dressed in jeans—and my hoodie. “I hope you don't mind,” he said bashfully, wrapping his arms around him. “It's warm.”

How could I? “Of course, I don’t.” I fought the urge to lunge forward and kiss him, instead grabbing his hand and tugging him out the front door

Eli's brow furrowed as we pulled into the parking lot of the arena where I worked. "Shane..." he began tentatively.

"Yes, Eli?"

"I don't have skates," he confessed, his voice shaking.

"Yes, you do," I told him, no longer able to contain my smile. I grabbed my bag from the backseat and circled around to swing Eli’s door open. He was gazing at the imposing structure in front of us, chewing nervously on his lip—a habit that always made me anxious, but I pushed aside my concerns. I had to trust my instincts.

Taking his hand in mine, I tugged him along towards the staff entrance. After winding through a maze of corridors, we finally arrived in the locker room. Eli glanced around, taking in the familiar sight with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. It felt like I was the Ghost of Christmas past guiding him through an image of his previous life.

Okay, so it was New Year's, but the sentiment remained.

"I don't know how a room that smells so bad can somehow smell so sweet," Eli remarked, his soft voice echoing off the empty stalls.

I chuckled, the sound reverberating through the deserted space. I understood exactly what he meant. The scent wasn't exactly pleasant but the familiarity of it was oddly comforting, like a warm embrace from an old friend.

I dropped my bag and pulled out Eli’s skates, watching as his eyes glazed over. The gentle way he took them from me spoke volumes. I gave him a supportive pat on his shoulder and gave him a moment. I knew all too well the weight of saying goodbye to something that was so deeply ingrained in your identity.

"You get laced up. I'll be right back," I assured him, offering a small smile before I slipped out of the locker room.

I flipped on the lights as I made my way down the hall, dragging a net into place and securing it on its pegs. I grabbed my stick and a spare—it wasn't a very good one, but beggars couldn't be choosers. After ensuring we had enough pucks, I went back to the locker room.

Eli's skates were on and he was staring down at them, taking deep breaths to steady himself. "Is it weird that I missed the feel of them on my feet?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of wonder and nostalgia.

"Not at all," I replied, settling beside him and daring to press a kiss to his cheek. The warmth that bloomed in the wake of my lips ignited a flicker of hope in my chest. This was going to work. I could feel it.

I laced up my own skates and stood, extending my hand to Eli. He grasped long enough to haul himself up and then we made our way to the ice—together. I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with anticipation, his whole body vibrating with excitement as we approached the rink. I knew the feeling—I felt the same buzz. The door to the ice was open and while Eli didn’t hesitate, I stood back to watch. He smiled like a kid in a candy store when he made that first glide onto the ice. In that moment, it was as if his entire demeanor shifted, every worry melting away as he embraced the familiar sensation of gliding effortlessly across the frozen surface.

I could almost predict his moves. He zapped around the edge of the rink, movements fluid and confident as he found his footwork. It was just like watching him warm up before a hockey game, his agility and grace a testament to his natural talent. I winced against the ice to the face as he slid to a stop in front of me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"God, it feels like I can breathe again," he exclaimed, his words filled with a sense of liberation.

He didn't need to say it—it was written all over him. With a smile, I offered him the spare stick. He snatched it, that childlike smile back in full force when he sped away. He skated toward the center of the ice, retrieving the pucks with smooth, instinctual movements. In one swift motion, he took aim and sent a slapshot flying towards the net, the sound of puck hitting twine echoing through the arena and just like he would in a game, he lifted his knee up and whooped . “That's it baby!”

I hadn't even gotten on the ice yet, too transfixed that my Eli was back. I was happy to watch my man in his prime. He was so easy to get lost in that I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he noticed.

“Come on, babe! Get on the ice and show me you still got it!”

Babe.

I stepped onto the ice, skating right up to face him.His blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights and he matched my speed, skating backward.

“’Babe?’”I questioned.

“Well, I am your sweetheart, right? So, you're my babe.”

I knew my out-of-control smile was bordering on goofy, but I didn’t care. "That so?" I called out, chasing Eli as he backed away from me, our movements resembling a playful game of cat and… Mouse.

"Mm, I think so," he replied, nothing but grace with each reverse glide he took. "I know I've been swamped with work, but it doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about that night. If anything, it's probably why work seems to drag on—I can't seem to get you off my mind."

My cheeks flushed despite the cold, and I quickened my pace—but he was just as good. "Getting a bit slow there, Coach," he taunted, a playful glint in his eyes.

A primal snarl ripped from deep in my chest. "Want me to catch you, little Mouse?" I growled, dick twitching with the way his eyes sparked in response. He lurched with a quick move—one that I knew all too well. I bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And with his next predictable turn, I pounced, grabbing him around his waist and hoisting him over my shoulder. He squealed, his laughter ringing out in the crisp arena air. "Hey! That's not how it works," he protested, though his hand landed square on my ass. "But the view is pretty good."

"Oh, is it now?" I replied, grateful he couldn’t see me blushing.

“Mmhmm, I was always so jealous of you. You had this perfect bubble butt and mine was always so tiny.”

I couldn't help but chuckle. “I happen to love your perky little ass, sweetheart.”

He fell silent, long enough for me to worry that I’d crossed a line.

“It's all flat now,” he said instead.

I supported his weight in one arm, giving each of his cheeks a testing squeeze, pulling a giggle from his mouth with each one. “Feels perfect to me.”

That laugh of his made it impossible for my stomach not to flutter, sparks shooting through my veins. I gently placed him. back on his feet, steadying him with my hands on his hips. Blue sparkling eyes had my breath caught in my chest.

“Thank you, Shane, really. I don’t think I have been this happy in a long time. I missed it—playing hockey… having you in reach.”

I’d known the truth all along: Eli Michaels was born to play hockey. He wasn’t meant to follow in his dad’s footsteps. I could only hope he saw it now. He was this bright and beautiful man, with a love of hockey that needed to be shared—no matter how he found it.

“It doesn’t have to be over,” I told him. “You can still play, or coach. God, with your marketing skills and your energy you could even get into commentating. But I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m here to support you no matter what. I am not going anywhere, but I would die to keep this smile on your face.”

He frowned instead—the opposite of what I wanted. “Don’t even joke about dying, I lost you for six months and my life had never felt so empty.”

“Sweetheart,” I said, my voice cracking. I slid my hands down, scooping him up by his thighs. Eli thankfully molded with me seamlessly, legs wrapping around me like that's where they belonged. And if I had my way, they’d stay there.

But he didn’t tuck his head in my neck, instead looking me in the eye like he was committing my every feature to memory. I’d gotten a glimpse of it a couple nights ago, but I blamed the lust and poor moonlight. But then I saw it—Eli was completely enamored. The pounding of my heart in that moment made me understand all those mushy love songs.

His hands came to cup my face, stroking over my beard. I tried not to feel insecure–I was no Jenna. I wasn’t soft curves with blond curls. I was big, hairy and well—male.

Then he leaned in, nose brushing mine and my lungs forgot how to function. He nuzzled my cheek, moving down to my beard and tracing over my jawline.

I gasped as his lips replaced his nose, brushing over my jaw, my cheek, then hovering over my lips. I knew he felt the hard rise and fall of my chest. “Eli…”

“It wasn’t a fluke that night, babe. It’s like I’ve been walking around wearing a blindfold. When my body knew, my mind knew. I found myself in your bed every night for years needing your touch. I just… there’s so much—”

I silenced him with my lips the second his voice cracked. As much as I wanted to hear it, I didn’t want tonight to end in tears of sadness. I wanted— needed the light that was that beautiful man’s soul.

He returned the kiss, soft lips moving with mine like they knew each movement before it would come. Pleasure zipped through my veins and I groaned, wondering if there would come a day where this was such a normal daily occurrence that I didn’t ask the question if it was truly happening

We kissed until we were dizzy and breathless, only pulling apart to gasp for air. He stared at me, a war behind those beautiful eyes. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking .

“Shoot off?” he asks.

I—reluctantly—put him down and watched as he picked up his stick and skated away.

Afternoon faded into night with the rumble of our stomachs being the only indication of time passing. I cherished every moment where Eli zipped past me, stamping a teasing kiss to my lips. I was in daze, my cheeks sore from smiling too hard, my heart warm from beating so fast. As I thought about us ending the year that way, I couldn’t help but think about the year before—where I was alone while he gave his kiss to the girl who had his heart. But now? They were mine.