15. Chapter 15

"Good morning, ?lskling." I hand Alec a mug of coffee when his bleary eyes blink open.

"You're a god." He takes a sip and sighs.

"Another thing to add to the list of Alec—making coffee is god behavior." I nudge him with my elbow.

He squints as if he's offended but isn't awake enough to pull it off.

"Do you need to go to work, or do you want breakfast?" I extend the invitation but give him an out. He's bleeding tension. Every second could be our last. If it is the only night we get, I can't regret it.

Alec helps me feel human again, lifting the heavy weight of grief off my soul.

"I could eat," Alec says slowly as if he's unsure of the idea until he rolls so we are chest to chest.

I woke up with Alec surrounding me like an octopus. It was exquisite, but I had to use the bathroom and forced myself to untangle us. My patience waiting for him to wake up is rewarded with his body on top of mine.

The silence is soothing and my chest loosens because Alec doesn't seem to regret waking up with me, and he isn't running for the door. But that brain of his starts working overtime, and I'm not sure if he'll stay for breakfast.

The chemistry between us is undeniable, but he could be done with us.

"If you want to eat, you need to let me up." My fingers kneed the tension in his shoulders, and Alec presses deeper into my chest.

"Maybe breakfast in bed." He trails his fingers along my ribs.

Trapping his hand flat against my skin so he can't move it down, I place a chaste kiss to his nose. "Maybe later? My body requires food after drinking and all the exercise."

"Is that what we're calling it? Exercise?" Alec rolls his hips over mine and both our bodies are ready for more.

"You Americans have such crass names for sex, I can't keep up." My mouth is too dry to swallow as I keep the conversation light. Knowing our time together is fleeting creates an ache in my chest.

"Can you cook?" he asks. "Or are we ordering in?"

"I'll make you a traditional Swedish breakfast of plain oats and cow brains." Teasing him sets him at ease, so I clamp my jaw shut to stop from smiling and watch his reaction.

Alec's mouth drops open in surprise, and he sucks in a breath to keep the disgust off his face. "Well, to be honest, I'm not a fan of oats." His dimples appear. "You fucker."

Warmth radiates through my chest. "Do you really want breakfast? I can cook and Swedes don't actually eat cow brains…for breakfast."

Alec laughs. "Will it be a naked breakfast?"

"I can serve you breakfast in bed or you can borrow some of my clothes." I can't help squeezing Alec's taut ass.

"Service with a smile. Who would've thought you had it in you, Viking? Not me." He's cheeky and instead of annoying, I find it endearing. The sex hormones must still be raging through my body because I cannot think that.

"I am full of surprises." No one is more surprised about my behavior than me. I don't aggressively pursue relationships and I practically begged Alec to stay with me. Bossing him around as if I had the right. I'm not ready to let go of this ray of sunshine in my bed. My life has been so dark lately and he makes me forget.

"Hmmm." Alec studies me and then rolls off me to stare at the ceiling. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Not much. Work on pieces to sell in the gallery. I have to make some custom jewelry too."

Alec keeps staring at the ceiling and the calm silence is replaced with the heaviness of whatever is going on in his brain. I doubt I can fix it, but I can feed him.

"You probably need breakfast more than I do since I ate two dinners. Do you like eggs?"

Alec nods.

"Do you have a preference?"

"Surprise me."

I haul myself out of bed, and it's terrible. It resembles returning from a sunny day to a dank, empty house. But I manage a quick shower and pull on old, comfortable, athletic clothes to work in. The one benefit of my past career is an abundance of tight-fitting stretchable fabrics that are ideal for working and fitting under my flame-retardant welding suit.

Alec still hasn't moved from the middle of the bed, and his eyes are unfocused, trained upward. I leave him to his brooding.

By the time he comes out of my bedroom, he's showered and dressed in my clothes. They're slightly long on him, but the way he fills out the material has my stomach fluttering. It's because I haven't eaten yet. All the lies I'm willing to believe are piling up. There is a very faint, far-off warning bell chiming in my head.

Wordlessly, he takes a seat at the island, and I push a plate of eggs mixed with vegetables and a bagel at him. Alec examines the different spreads I've put out for the bagels. He chooses butter and blueberry jam.

We eat in silence, and I miss the sound of his voice. I'm afraid if I break the silence, he'll leave. I search for the right words to tell him I would like to do this again. We can do a short-term arrangement if he is willing. I'll be here for years, and it would be nice to have an amazing sex partner.

He spins the stool and stares out at the sunlight streaming through my enormous windows.

"It should be a nice day," Alec says casually as if we were in the middle of a conversation.

"Yes, according to the weather report."

"A great day for a motorcycle ride." His words are carefree, but he's nervously twisting on the stool.

"You ride?" I ask to figure out why that would make him edgy.

Alec nods for the second time this morning and it's unnerving because he always has so much to say. I can understand why it infuriated him when instead of speaking to him, I would simply nod. If he had done this before yesterday, I would assume he was trying to annoy me, but this is about him––not me.

"You want to take a ride with me?" His face flushes.

I'm stunned. It's intimate and we have to trust each other. I'm a big guy and he has to handle a bike and me. And I have to trust he can do it.

"Yes," I manage to say. If I can figure out how to keep spending time with Alec, maybe we won't have to discuss it.

"Cool." Alec picks up our plates and brings them to the sink.

We're flying down the highway, my thighs bracketing Alec's, and I haven't felt this alive in years. I had a liability waiver in my contract that would not allow for risky activities off of the pitch. Alec handles the bike as if it's an extension of himself, and he has no problems with the weight of me on the back. He zips in and out of traffic, avoiding cars that don't check their blind spots.

I trust Alec to keep us safe. He exits at the next off-ramp and drives alongside the water. I don't think it's the Hudson River, but I don't know the geography. He slows the bike and pulls into a parking area but keeps driving until we're on grass and out of sight.

I haven't let go, even though he's taken his helmet off. I feel him chuckle but don't hear the sound.

"You okay back there?" He turns his head slightly, but my helmet is in the way, so he pats my leg.

I release his waist and remove my helmet.

"Viking?" he asks because I still haven't spoken.

Alec somehow uses me as leverage to swing his leg up and over, so he's facing me on the bike. It's the damn sexiest thing I've ever seen.

We don't need words when our mouths can do the talking. As I kiss down his throat, his head tips back to give me better access. His skin tastes salty from the effort of driving. If we weren't in public, I'd taste him everywhere, then blow him.

"So I guess this means you like being on the back of my bike." Alec is so damn cocky, but it's infuriatingly attractive.

"I want you naked, so I can ride you on your bike," I say without considering logistics.

"You'll literally be the death of me." Alec pushes me so I'm laid out on his bike, but there isn't enough room, so I'm using my stomach muscles to hold myself up. "This is a fantasy if I've ever seen one. But it's too cold to get naked, and I don't have any supplies. You hiding some in your pocket?" He runs his knuckles over my erection.

I shake my head.

"Fucking tease." Alec gives my dick a squeeze. "I guess I gotta take you back. You're lucky I had to charge my phone at your place. Otherwise, I might leave you here." His threat is meaningless with the toe-curling kiss he gives me.

Earlier, he'd called Cole and told him he needed the day off for appreciation. I'd been able to hear Cole grumbling on the other end, which became louder when Alec said this was the counteroffer to taking Shane to bed. I don't understand why Alec says those things or why Cole puts up with it because I'm certain Alec does not actually want to sleep with Shane. He's so brazen with his language, it's unnerving how free he is.

We spend the entire day together, driving out onto Long Island for lunch and touring the coast. It's almost dark by the time we get back, so I turn on the lights in my loft.

"Is that your phone?" I hear a bunch of pinging sounds.

"My Google alert." He disappears into my bedroom, where his phone is plugged in.

A knock on my door startles me. Madyson and Jayce have worried expressions when I open it.

"We heard you come in and had to check on you." Madyson reaches out but stops herself, clinging to Jayce instead. "We saw the stuff online, and I hope I'm not partly to blame. Are you okay?"

Last night, I saw a negative comment regarding my art on Page Seven's social media page. "It's fine. I have to accept it if I'm going to be an artist." I'm touched by their concern, but when you've had thousands of people boo you, one person's comment doesn't hurt.

Alec swears from the other room.

"Thanks for your concern. I appreciate it." I step back and close the door halfway so they get the hint.

"We're here for you if you need us, man," Jayce offers.

"And of course, for Lars too." Madyson peers around me.

"Thanks." I shut the door, trying to figure out why she mentioned Lars. But my mind goes back to Alec in my bedroom, and I forget them.

Alec is staring at his phone, open-mouthed, sitting on the edge of my bed. He's so still it puts me on edge.

"Is everything okay?"

"I put alerts on my phone for Jayce, Lars, The Q, and The Artistic Edge, so if the show pops on social media, I'll know. I can send a link for people to donate when people read the posts." He's still not looking at me and his thumb is scrolling and scrolling.

"A great plan," I say with confusion.

"Fucking hell, Von." Alec's eyes meet mine as he shows me his screen.

There's a picture of Lars and me from last night walking into the restaurant. From the camera angle, it looks as if we're holding hands. The caption is, Friends or More? My head is spinning with the implication and media attention.

"Are you…" His eyes search mine, and I can't read his expression. "Are you famous? You're a soccer player?"

I'm trying to digest how the media outlet figured out who I am while shoving down my resentment of social media and tabloid-type news outlets. Before I form words to explain why I didn't tell him, he snaps, "Von." Not Viking, Von.

Let It GoBy James Bay

"I'm sorry," I say, but my phone rings with a special tone. "That's my mamma. I have to take it."

Alec is noticeably at a loss for words with his mouth opening and closing, and I can't blame him for his anger. I don't know what the article says, but it highlights that I'm famous enough to be mentioned in connection to Lars by name and not as an unknown companion.

And Lars, fuck.

Alec stalks out of the room, his back ramrod straight.

"Mamma," I answer and am bombarded with an earful of questions. I can't even break in to explain that I'm not dating Lars.

Once she's calm, I explain the picture isn't what it seems. I assure her that Lars and I are friends and will only ever be just friends. She asks if Lars dates men, and I claim no knowledge of his preferences.

I love my mother, but she loves good gossip and Lars's sexual orientation should never be debated in public opinion. She should understand that after what I went through. People dissected my sexuality and made it front-page news for months. The coverage hurt my entire family. My mother knows I'm not telling her everything and threatens to get on a plane to the US.

While I'm sure she won't get on a plane, I blurt out, "I met someone, and he was here last night." I'm thankful that Alec must be long gone and doesn't speak Swedish. The entire situation is infuriating and I don't need my mamma's concern or judgment.

My mother warns me against dating an American and how it will only end in heartbreak. It's easy to assure her that won't happen since I can't get my heart broken by a guy who isn't into relationships. After several more dire, unrealistic visions of the future, she tells me she loves me and hangs up.

I hear Alec's angry voice and decide to brave his outrage.

"You know it's bullshit…since when do you…fuck off with your clicks." Alec's face is red and his voice full of fury. When he sees me in the doorway, he says, "Gotta go," and hangs up.

"You okay, Viking?" He takes a small step toward me and stops.

I nod, then shake my head, which means my head is moving in a spastic circle. Alec takes my wrist and guides me to sit on the couch.

"Everything okay with your mom? It got kinda loud in there."

"You're worried about my mamma?" I sputter, cataloging the events since last night that got us here.

"Families are tricky." Alec shrugs and I realize he has no idea what sort of parents I have. Mine are mostly supportive, unlike his.

"She's worried I'm going to fall in love with Lars and only visit Sweden a few weeks a year." I manage a half smile.

"Is Lars bi?" he asks, but I won't answer. I stare him in the eye, wondering if I have made the same mistake as in my past.

"Fucking Page Seven. I'm going to murder Britt." Alec scrubs a hand over his face.

"Did the article say he's bi?" I ask, my anger mounting.

"No. Not one word, just the insinuation in the caption to get people to click on two hot dudes holding hands."

"We weren't holding hands." My tone is clipped, trying not to accuse him.

"I know." He smirks instead of being annoyed.

The confirmation of how he knows is a hot iron to the stomach. My mind filters through the facts. He knows the people at Page Seven and has been in contact with them. It's logical to conclude he gave them my name and has known all day the picture would be in the press. "Who were you talking to?" I demand.

Alec blinks and his head rears back. "My friend Britt from Page Seven. I was—"

"I'm sure you got what you needed," I spit out the words. At least he didn't lie. It's a small thing in the face of betrayal. "I suppose you are interested in my fame."

"So you really are famous," Alec says it as statement but tilts his head in confusion.

"In Sweden, yes. In Europe, moderately. Here, no one cares I am a washed-up fotboll player." My voice is harsher than necessary because he must already know. The question is how much more he wants. How is he going to use what he knows against me?

"Oh, here we care about washed-up football players, just not soccer players." He fights to keep his lips from turning up. "Can I assume that I won"t be attacked by paparazzi when I leave?"

"Why are you still here?" I seethe. Alec loves the spotlight. He thrived with the attention at the charity event. This is exactly the sort of thing to feed his ego, dating a famous person and using me to be fame adjacent.

I have told him things that no one else knows and those will certainly be in the tabloids within the next few days.

"Wow. Okay." Alec stands. "I thought I was bad at relationships but you…" He lets the sentence go unfinished. "I might never be a decent partner, but I am a decent human. You told me you want privacy and details of your friend. I assumed you came here to get away from articles like the one in Page Seven." His words hit harder than a punch. "I thought you might need a friend. My mistake."

My door slamming leaves me alone with my self-righteous anger. It's better that things end now before he gets a taste of fame and doesn't want to give it up. I thought he was different from my exes, but I should've known better. We are not meant to be––I forgot that for a minute.