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I kiss him back just as hard.

Doesn’t that answer that?

I pull away far enough to speak, though my fingers stay hooked in the back of his shirt. “You’re a confused dick, but I love you too.”

Ben goes still under my hands, and his breath catches before he lowers his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. He looked calmer when we clinched a playoff spot than he does now.

“So you’re my boyfriend?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

His mouth curves against mine before he kisses me again. The smile keeps getting in the way until I kiss one corner of it and then the other, and Ben gives up with a laugh.

The sound goes through me. I haven’t heard him laugh in this room since before Bobby used his emergency key for a caffeine crisis.

The song outside changes, and the party gets louder around the heavy beat. We’re still against the door while half the team empties my fridge and probably wonders whether Bobby was hallucinating whatever he just heard in the kitchen.

“We should go back,” I say, although I don’t let go of Ben’s shirt.

“Yeah.” He kisses me once more before stepping away.

I turn for the handle. Ben catches my hand before I reach it and threads our fingers together.

Both our palms are damp. His grip is firm.

Ben opens the door with his free hand and walks into the hall. The noise gets louder with every step toward the living room, and his jaw tightens when we reach the end of the hall. He doesn’t let go.

Bobby sees us first when we walk back into the kitchen. His gaze drops to our joined hands, and a grin takes over his face.

“Hell yeah, Pope.”

“Shut up,” I tell him.

That only makes him laugh. Sindre follows his attention and lets out a whistle. Somebody near the living room tells us to get a room.

We just came out of one.

One of the defensemen gives Ben a thumbs-up while another looks at our hands, shrugs, and reaches past us for the bottle opener. A group near the windows keeps singing badly with the chorus.

The replay of our winning goal comes onto the television and pulls everybody’s attention back to the screen. Half the room starts yelling about my pass, and Bobby abandons us to explain what they saw wrong.

Ben keeps holding my hand while Bobby argues.

32

NOLAN

I wake with Ben’s knee between mine and his arm heavy across my stomach.

The bedroom is warm and smells like beer, sweat, and the clothes beside the bed. Gray light gets around the blinds and catches Ben’s hand against my skin. His fingers are curled under the waistband of my boxer briefs, although I’m pretty sure he fell asleep that way instead of putting them there on purpose.

I stay still and listen to him breathe against the back of my neck.

The condo outside my room is quiet. Somebody turned the music off before we came to bed, but I don’t know who left or who passed out on a couch. None of them are making enough noise to matter.

Ben shifts behind me. His arm tightens, pulling me back against his chest before he wakes enough to know he’s doing it.

I smile into the pillow as his mouth brushes the back of my shoulder. The kiss misses by enough that it might be an accident, then he does it again, slower.