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He crossed the threshold, close enough now that the faint, woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around me. “Brought wine. Hope it’s okay. Wasn’t sure what kind of stir fry we were having.”
“Perfect.” I reached for the bottle, our fingers brushing. Electric. Heat curled low in my stomach. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
We stood there, a beat of silence stretching, the air thick with unspoken things. Then I set the wine down. The hell with awkwardness. I closed the distance, one hand finding the back of his neck, warm skin beneath soft hair, and pulled him in.
His response was immediate, arms locking around my waist. The kiss deepened, a mutual surrender against the entryway wall. My hands tangled in his hair, while his leg slid between mine, pressing close. Solid muscle, undeniable heat.
“Missed you,” I murmured against his mouth, the words raw, honest.
Kevin pulled back just enough, his pupils blown wide, breath coming fast. “Missed you too. Been thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” Joy shot through me, warm and sharp.
His thumb brushed my lower lip, a featherlight touch that made me quiver. “Had to actively not stare during practice.”
A laugh escaped me, and I pressed my forehead against his. “Same. Henderson asked why I was so fired up.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“That everything was clicking.” My grin widened. “Wasn’t exactly a lie.” Reluctantly, I stepped back, threading my fingers through his. “Come on. Stir fry waits for no one.”
My kitchen opened into the living area, modern and maybe a little too clean right now. Kevin leaned against the island, watching me as I brought the meal together.
“Nice place.” His gaze swept over the skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Great view.”
“Thanks.” I handed him a glass of the wine he’d brought, pouring one for myself. “Took forever to find. I wanted somewhere that felt like... mine. Not just a crash pad between road trips.”
“It feels personal.” He nodded toward the photos. “I think you succeeded.”
“Tried to.” I stirred in some final seasoning. “What about your place? Getting settled?”
Kevin took a sip of wine, leaning back against the counter. “It’s getting there. Still navigating boxes. The trade, the road trips... it’s been a whirlwind.”
“Need help unpacking?” The offer slipped out, easy and genuine. “My rates are reasonable—usually involve beer and pizza.”
A soft smile touched his lips. “Might take you up on that. Fair warning, though—it’s not this nice.”
“Don’t care about nice.” I slid a plate piled high with chicken, rice, and vegetables across the island. “Just looking for any excuse to see you.”
The honesty hung there. A faint flush crept up his neck. “You don’t need excuses, Tyler.”
We ate at the dining table, sitting across from each other with the platter of food between us. Conversation flowed between bites of food and sips of wine. He told me more about Minnesota–hockey coach dad, teacher mom, older sister running her own graphic design business. I shared stories about growing up with Shane, how we navigated going from brothers to him being my agent.
Kevin stabbed some chicken and vegetables with his fork. “So he ran the auction you missed?”
I nodded, swirling the wine in my glass. “He didn’t organize it, but he helped a lot. The Children’s Sports Foundation helped me out big time when we were kids. They covered equipment, fees, everything.” Another sip. “We’re both on their board, and he does a lot with them. They do amazing work around the city.”
“That’s really cool.” Kevin’s enthusiasm was genuine.
“What about you? Any causes close to your heart?”
He set his fork down, leaning back slightly. “Volunteered with an LGBTQ+ youth group back home. Hoping to find something similar here.”
“I need to connect you with Lawson. He does a lot of work with queer youth groups. Me and some of the other guys join him sometimes.”
“I’d like that.” His smile reached his eyes, creating those little crinkles at the corners that made my heart flutter.
When dinner was finished, and the plates cleared, we migrated to the couch with refilled wine glasses.
