He was wearing a button-up shirt and slacks, carrying a bag over his shoulder, and his cane led him across the little pathway to the front door.
It creaked when it opened, and I froze mid-step in the middle of the living room when I heard him hang his cane, drop his bag, and start walking.
And then he was there—hovering in the archway, face pointed slightly to my right.
“I know you’re in here. You breathe so loud.”
“Pretty little goalie,” I said. It was his only warning before I swept him into my arms and kissed the breath from his lungs. He groaned loudly, sagging into my grasp as I backed him against the wall and kissed over his eyelids, nose, and lips.
He was grinning by the time I was done with him.
“How was your week?” he asked, pressing one hand to my cheek. His thumb brushed over my too-long stubble. “You didn’t shave.”
I scrubbed my chin over his fingertips. “Mm. Will shave before I eat your ass.”
“Jesus,” he breathed out. His fingers spasmed against my face.
Sometimes, after long roadies, he didn’t want that at all. Sometimes he wanted to just curl up in my arms and listen as I talked about my boring day. And that was just as good as the moments he was overwhelmed and wanted me to pin him to the mattress, shove my tongue in his hole, then fuck him into oblivion.
All of it with Micah was worth it.
All of it was everything I’d ever fantasized about when I considered the idea that someone might love me. That I might find my forever.
“You’re very quiet,” Micah said after a long while. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Well…hearing is soon. For Hunter.”
He flinched, and I hated myself for saying that fucker’s name in our space because he wasn’twelcome here. But it was also something we couldn’t run from.
“Sorry,” I whispered, taking his hand and pressing my apology to his fingertips in the form of kisses.
Micah softened. “Can we go lay down? I smell like airport, and I didn’t get dick for sleep last night.”
I took his hand and led the way through the small space, into the room we were calling our own. Eventually, we’d have something that belonged to us. The perfect space where Micah didn’t feel lost or uncertain.
We would find something and then transform it into the perfect space. We would have plans in print and braille so he could be part of every step. It would be ours—to shape the way we wanted. And he wouldn’t feel afraid again. He wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night gasping, terrified that everything was out of place.
And I knew that was just going to take time, sessions with his therapist, and trust that he had finally put a stop to the things that were hurting him. But I hoped those little things would reassure him too.
“God, this is going to feel so good,” he said, dropping his clothes in a little pile near the foot of the bed. He stretched his body over the covers, hands sliding across the comforter as he searched for the hem to pull it back.
His little smile full of joy, a smile that so many people rarely ever got to see, burrowed deep in mychest as he let out a happy hum, nestling beneath the sheets.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “I’m cold.”
I slid my body alongside his, letting my soft sweats soothe his bare skin. He was bruised like we all were after long games, and he hissed when my fingers found a few tender spots, but he didn’t pull away.
“I missed you,” I murmured.
He nosed against my collarbone, hands drawing lines along my arm and ribs—feeling out the scars left behind from the accident. I liked the way he saw me. It was different than sight, deeper in some ways.
He found little grooves and bumps and imperfections that the eyes always missed. Those things on the map of history that made me who I was. And he was the only one who knew they were there.
“I heard the Glaciers did well,” he said. “Are you doing okay without being out there?”
“Mm, is hard, but yes. They clinched playoff spot, so maybe I will go to home games. I’m cleared to watch from the bench.”
“We’re out,” Micah said. He didn’t sound as upset as I would have been. And I’d been noticing he’d been edging around the fact that he was caring less about the game. “Ben’s kind of pissed, but I think he knew it was coming. The Legends got a wild card spot.”
