What time? How will we get there?
I smiled as I typed.Mark has organized a car.
Another grin emoji appeared.Really?
Mark had turned out to be a real-life Gay Fairy Godmother, and not a magic wand in sight.
I pocketed my phone, and started removing my skates.
“Are we done?” Ethan asked, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know about you, butIsure am.” I peered at him. “Do yourself a favor. Grab whatever condoms you still have left, and?—”
Laughter exploded from him. “Are you kidding me? I finished those about three days after we talked about it.”
I reached into my jacket pocket, removed two packets, and tossed them to him. “Here. It’s Valentine’s. Go find yourself a hot guy.”
Ethan slipped them into his jeans back pocket. “Not gonna ask why you happen to have these on you.”
“Good idea. I did notice you didn’t put up much of a fight about accepting them.”
“Hey, never look a gift horse—never mind.” He pouted. “What—no lube?” I glared at him, and he got up quickly. “Uh-oh. Time to go. See you later.” He paused before heading toward the door. “Hey, Dean… Have a good day with Luka. At least, I’m assuming you’re going to him. I know I would be. Grab every moment you can.” He gave me a wistful smile. “I was never interested in having a boyfriend. It was way more fun playing the field, one-night-stands, hot hookups… But when I see you two? You make it seem awful tempting.” His eyes gleamed. “And if you breathe a word of what I just said to a living soul, I’ll deny it, okay? Don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft or something.”
I tilted my head. “You thinkI’vegone soft?”
He shook his head. “I like the man you become when he’s around you. There’s this whole ‘Touch him and die’ energy going on whenever you look at his federation. And if that’s how he looks at you inpublic? Jesus…” He held out the two condom packets. “I think you might need these more than I do.”
I laughed. “Keep ’em. Your need is greater.”
Ethan pretended to think about it. “You know what? You’re right.” And with that, he walked off with a confident swagger.
Someone needs to tell all the hot men in Milan that Hurricane Ethan is about to tear a path through them.
By two that afternoon,we were in the back of a car heading away from the Olympic Village and into the city. No team jackets, no credentials hanging around our necks, just bags containing our skates,winter coats and jeans, and hats pulled low enough that nobody looked twice at us, Luka’s unruly blond hair hidden under a layer of thick wool.
Milan slid past outside the windows in muted February color while Luka sat beside me close enough that our knees touched every time the car turned.
Neither of us made any attempt to correct that.
“Where is this place?” he asked.
“It’s another rink. Mark says a lot of skaters practice there when they want to get away from the main arena.” I chuckled. “Although how he managed to secure it for three whole hours, I have no idea. All he’d say was he pulled some strings.”
Luka gazed at the passing scenery.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
It still hadn’t sunk in. This beautiful human being loved me.
“You are staring,” Luka murmured eventually, eyes still on the passing streets.
“You’re very stare-able.”
“That is not a word.”
I chuckled. “It absolutely is. And if I’m wrong, it should be.”
One corner of his mouth lifted.
