Nate had been right. Talking about it was actually excruciating.
“Sure,” Nate said.
“What about—”
“No,” Nate said. He couldn’t sit here and listen to Ramsey choreograph all their PDA.
“You don’t know what I was going to say,” Ramsey asked a little testily.
“You were going to say,what about kissing, and I was going to say hell no to that suggestion.”
Ramsey made a face.
Nate wondered if he knew why he’d said that, but Nate wasn’t going to go into any kind of detailed explanation. It would be so fucking embarrassing to confess,I can’t fake that, not with you. Not when I want to do it for real.
“You didn’t mind it in June,” Ramsey said, and yeah, sure he hadn’t. He’d fucking loved it.
“This is different,” Nate said stiffly.
“Fair,” Ramsey agreed.
Nate took a long gulp of his beer and was in the middle of swallowing when Ramsey continued with, “What about sex?”
Attempting to clear his throat, Nate wasn’t sure he could breathe. “Whataboutsex?” he finally managed to choke out.
“Are we having it?” Ramsey asked the question in the most casual, blasé voice.
“No.”
A flash of frustration passed over Ramsey’s face. “I meant in our fake relationship, Nathaniel.Obviously.”
“Obviously, yes,” Nate ground out. He added, before he could stop himself, “Do you really think a guy would be dating you and not get you into bed?”
Ramsey tilted his head. “You said it, not me.”
“Exactly.” Nate finished his beer. They had practice tomorrow and he should pace himself. Be an example for the rest of the guys on the team, but it was hard to imagine getting through the next few hours—Ramsey burying himself even more deeply under his skin,on purpose—and doing it without the hazy veneer of alcohol.
“Then I think that’s everything,” Ramsey said. He took another sip of his sparkling water. “Was there anything specifically you wanted to cover?”
God, Nate hadn’t wanted to cover any of thisin the first place, even as he was forced to acknowledge that at least they’d discussed the limits ahead of time. Ramsey knew his feelings on kissing for their teammates now, at least, and he wouldn’t be blindsided by that. But he had a feeling Ramsey had already known his stance on that. Why he’d asked anyway, why he’d specifically gone out of his way to have this conversation . . .well, Nate didn’t know but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask.
He’d long since learned the lesson that you didn’t ask questions you weren’t ready to hear the answers to.
“No, that’s it,” Nate said.
“Alright.” Ramsey plucked Nate’s empty bottle and, draining his own can, rinsed them both out in the sink and threw them away in the recycling bin.
Nate watched this whole thing, wondering how it was,whenit was that Ramsey had gotten so comfortable inhiscondo. He’d only been here a handful of times. But he’d done it, so easy, likehe’d absolutely known. Like he’d paid close attention to every detail he could, before.
But again, Nate wasn’t going to ask, because he couldn’t imaginethatanswer would be any better for his peace of mind.
“You ready to go?” Nate asked instead.
Ramsey nodded, and ten minutes later they were in a cab, heading towards Aidan’s building, which was maybe only a mile away, but it was cold and getting colder. Welcome to Toronto in freaking November.
The car pulled over to the sidewalk, let them out, and as they took the elevator up to Aidan’s floor, Nate found his hand hovering just behind Ramsey. Instinctually shifting into the kind of mode where he might put a reassuring hand on his back, even if the guys they were going to see weren’t just Nate’s teammates but had become Ramsey’s friends as well.
Found himself asking, “You good?” as they stood in front of Aidan’s door, after knocking.
