“Thanks.” I reached out to pat his hand as it lay on the table. He sat up to place his hand over mine. “He went back in to pull a young, pregnant woman out of a fourth-floor apartment. He got her out, but then the floor went out from under him. Just like that, he was gone. Mom still gets cards from the woman Dad saved. She’s got a grandbaby on the way. She named her son Lawrence after my father.”
“Wow, he was a hero.”
“Yeah, he really was.”
“You are too.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that. I grew up in a house where values of brotherhood and service were drummed into our heads. After losing Dad, I wanted to continue the legacy of giving to the community, so I followed in his very big footsteps. Devon went into law enforcement for the same reasons. Mom says she has worn out at least two hundred sets of worry beads. My aunt in Greece keeps her well supplied.”
“So, you’re Greek?”
“A little.” I sat back to allow Utah to place our appetizers on the table. Round hot plates of roasted asparagus, a dish of empanadas, yummy taters, and some bacon-wrapped dates. “My mother is half Greek, half Dutch. My father was of Scottish and English descent. We’re a mixed bag of nationalities.”
“That’s nice. Your mom is very friendly. As was the rabbi. Do you think we could do a dinner again with them both?”
God, this man. He was so earnest it was all I could do to keep my ass in my seat. The need to press my mouth to his wassostrong.
“I’d like that.” I slid a date to his plate, then to mine. “Chip, I think I need to say something here that might be upsetting or confusing.” He glanced up. Shit. How did I even go about this without sounding like a putz? “Okay, so sometimes when people are in traumatic situations like a car accident or a fire, they sometimes, not always, but sometimes develop a crush on the people who aid them in that situation.”
“Yes, I know. I’m not holding your hand and kissing you because of hero worship. I really like you.”
Okay. I was going to need a minute before I tried to swallow my date. My throat was locked up with emotion right now.
“That might have been the most incredible thing a man has ever said to me,” I whispered, leaving the date on my plate so I wouldn’t choke to death. “I feel the same way when I’m with you. I’m also struggling to reconcile those fizzy, righteous feelings with the fact that if we start seriously dating, I could get in trouble at work. There are no written rules about getting involved with someone you’ve assisted in an emergency, but it’s generally frowned upon. For the reasons I already laid out.” I linked my fingers with his. “As much as I don’t want to, we may have to keepushidden for a few months. Do you hate that? I do. I came out so I wouldn’t have to hide, and here I am asking you to do something that chafed me raw. I just… ”
He gave my hand a squeeze. “We’re good friends, Dane. Very good friends. Maybe better than good friends. I like holding hands, kissing, and eating out with you. Dating is… complicated for me, not just because of how my brain works but because of hockey. We travel a lot, and you have long shifts. I think we can keep doing what we are because it’s loose and feels good. For now. I have an appointment on Tuesday to have my knee reviewed, and I hope to get back on the ice. Maybe when hockey season wraps, we can do more things like penetrative sex to see how that furthers the relationship. I enjoy topping, but I’m willing to bottom if enough time is spent on prostate stimulation.”
Someone made a grunting sound on my left. I glanced up to find Utah, face red as a cherry, holding our meals.
“This is exemplary service,” Chip said, the awkwardness of the moment lost on him as his meal was delicately placed before him. “Mm, it smells eggy!”
“Thank you,” I said after Utah served me my quiche.
“You’re welcome,” Utah replied, his cheeks still hot, and eased into the flow of servers hustling around the café.
I had to chuckle. Chip glanced up at me as he tried to open his napkin with one hand.
“What’s so funny?” he sniffed the air. “Did Sable fart? She does that a lot. I think it’s the bison meat in her dog food, or maybe the carrots. I’ll research it after we eat.”
“You do that.” I let my fingers rest in his for a moment then let go so he could eat, drink, and then read up on the percentage of toots per pound of bison meat reported to whoever would track such a thing. Whoever it was, Chip would ferret them out, I had no doubt.
Chapter 9
Chip
The appointmentwith Dr. Nazari ran exactly twenty-three minutes, which was four minutes longer than my last visit and eight minutes longer than I’d hoped. He had me hold a clipboard and bend my knee through a range of motion. He pushed once, hard, with both thumbs. He frowned at the chart. He frowned at the knee. He smiled.
“You can drop the brace by Friday,” he said. “Light skating Saturday if it feels good. Practice on contact next Tuesday. We’ll see you in three weeks unless something hurts in the meantime.”
From the parking lot, I called Coach Ronan, the trainer, and Cap in the order I was supposed to. I didn’t call my brother because he had Lena to look after, so I texted instead.
Chip: Knee cleared. Friday, brace off. Saturday, light skating.
Tonight was date night at Dane’s place. I drove there with the radio off because I didn’t want to be distracted. Sable sat in the passenger seat, her seat belt harness on, staring out the window. I pulled onto his road at 5:03, eight minutes earlier than I’d planned because I’d left home earlier than I’d planned. I sat inthe car and did the breathing exercise the team counselor had taught me, and Sable put her chin on my forearm and waited.
“Okay,” I said to her. “Okay.”
She huffed at me, and we got out of the car. If I didn’t go in now, then I wouldn’t go at all. His front door opened before I’d reached the gate, and I saw he was in a soft black T-shirt and jeans, and no shoes.
