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Today, everything felt off in a way he couldn’t explain. His smiles were too forced, his handshakes too short, his neck too stiff. He’d banked on spending the evening with Nolan, and having to be here instead was sapping all of his energy. He was on—at least, to everyone here it would look like he was effortlessly charming—but inside, his body was screaming for a break.

“The sailing center donated a learn-to-sail gift certificate,” Eli told a distinguished gentleman with gorgeous sideburns. “And if that’s not your speed, they’re also auctioning off an Eli Parker signed jersey over there,” he added with a wink.

“Will it be worth anything after this season if you can’t get past your slump?”

Ouch. Right for the solar plexus. Eli’s stomach twisted painfully, but he didn’t let his smile slip when he said, “If it isn’t, you can always use it as a dish rag.”

The man grunted and moved on to peruse the other silent auction items.

Eli didn’t have the heart to direct anyone to his jersey after that.

Because what if Sideburns was right? What if all he was worth was one season? What if his talents were better suited for the AHL?

He’d still be playing hockey even if he got sent down to further his development training, but he hadn’t made it to the NHL only to be sent back to the farm team.

But how was he supposed to survive all of the demands on his time without crumbling?

He wanted to talk to Nolan, but he was stuck at this stupid event in this stupid suit.

Okay, neither thing was stupid. The former was important, and the latter looked spectacular on him.

He was just . . . rattled.

As the night was wrapping up, the executive director of the charity approached him with an outstretched hand. “I can’t thank you enough for this,” Carol-Anne said, her blonde hair hanging to her shoulders in a slick bob. “We raised almost twice as much as we’d hoped.”

“I’m happy I could help. I’m so sorry again for being late.”

Carol-Anne waved that away. “My volunteers are gathering the auction sheets now. If you hang around another minute, I can tell you how much we got for your jersey.”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I don’t need to know.”

He was a little worried it had only gone for five bucks despite the bidding starting at two hundred.

He finally got out of there a few minutes later, and he was so intent on seeing Nolan that he was driving into his own townhouse complex before he remembered that Nolan didn’t actually live there.

Except there was Nolan’s car, still in Eli’s driveway.

Eli almost cried.

He held it together right up until he walked in the door and found Nolan watching TV on the couch. The volume was on low, like it was just there for background noise.

“Hey.” Nolan sat up with a smile, and he looked so damn cozy in his joggers and T-shirt that for a wild instant, Eli hated his suit, spectacular or not. Nolan’s T-shirt hugged his biceps right above his tattoo of a canoe and camping tent—the one he’d gotten to commemorate his favorite trip with his dad from when he was a teenager.

Eli wanted to be there right now, out in the middle of a national park, disconnected from the world, with nothing to do but canoe his way around a still lake with Nolan.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m still here,” Nolan said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to be or not? I texted, and when I didn’t hear back, I decided to stay. Figured you could kick me out if you didn’t want me here.” Rising, Nolan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I ordered from American Flatbread, but I waited for you so we can eat together. Figured you’d be hungry. Do you get real food at these things or just finger food?”

Finger food, Eli meant to say. Instead he let out one harsh sob.

“Whoa.” Nolan fast-walked toward him. “Hey. Eli. Are you okay?”

Eli stuck the base of his palms into his eyes. “Sorry. I’m fine.” He sucked in a deep breath and got himself under control before looking at Nolan.

At this man who’d never asked him for a single thing, never asked him to give more than he could, and who’d waited hours for him to come home so they could eat dinner together.

I fucking love you, he almost said, biting the words back just in time.

“Nolan.”