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“I’ve been wondering if you’re human like the rest of us. Nice to know you’re not perfect, after all.” Lawson jokes, but sobers quickly. He reaches a hand out and wraps his fingers around my forearm. “You weren’t ready to tell me, I get it. I don’t want you to worry about me, alright? We’re good.”
Lawson lifts his head, tipping his chin to indicate Nigel, who’s busy measuring out three servings of soup. “And just so we’re clear, you ever say the word and I’ll take him out. No questions asked.”
“I can hear you.” Nigel mutters.
“Good. I expect you to treat Cor like the beautiful, smart, hockey god that he is.”
“Have you been drinking?” I ask, while Nigel snorts with laughter. Lawson pats my arm before letting go.
“We going to eat today or just sit around talking?” He asks
Even though chicken noodle soup wasn’t quite what I had in mind for breakfast, it nonetheless hits the spot. We end up eating every bit of what Lawson brought, although we go easy on the bread since we have practice in a couple hours. I invite Lawson to hang out, kill time before morning skate, but he waves the offer away. After seeing him off, I walk back into the kitchen to find Nigel standing at the counter scrolling through something on his phone.
Stepping up behind him until my chest is against his back, I rest a hand on his hip. Immediately, he puts his phone face down on the island and covers my hand with his own, using it to pull my arm all the way around him. Smiling against the back of his neck, I do the same with my other arm until I’m hugging him from behind.
“Do you feel okay?” Nigel asks, fingers tangled with mine against his stomach.
“My ass or emotionally?”
He laughs, reaching one hand back to smack the side of my leg. I can tell he’s still smiling when he speaks. “Both.”
“I wish I had told him I was gay years ago. I wish I had told him about you months ago.”
“AndIwish you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I’m happy he knows.” I inhale deep, nose resting against his hair. He smells like my shampoo.Mine, I think, and take another sniff. “And to answer your other question…sore.”
“Yeah.” Nigel nods, head bumping my nose. I move my face to the side, resting my chin on his shoulder instead. “You okay, though?”
I close my eyes, tipping my face downward into the fabric of his hoodie. He’s still worried about me regretting the decision to sleep with him last night. Or perhaps he’s waiting for a repeat performance of the freak-out in the alley.
“Definitely okay. How are you?”
He huffs, abdomen expanding beneath my arms. “Oh, I’ve been better, but thank you for asking.”
Grinning, I turn my face to the side and kiss his neck. Pulling my arms away, I turn him around by his hips. He’s smiling, and his brown eyes are bright with joy. I like the way he looks early in the morning, sleep mussed and warm. It strikes me, suddenly, that the only nights we’ve spent apart recently have been during away games.
“Maybe you should bring all of your stuff over here.” I say, slowly. Nigel’s fingers are curled into the waistband of my pajama pants, knuckles scraping low on my stomach.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
I take a deep breath. Just yesterday morning I was certain hecouldn’tlive here. Certain that his presence would announce to the world everything I want to keep hidden. But Lawson knows now, and soon Troy and Sam will as well.What the fuck do I care what anyone but them thinks?
“Do you want to move in? You’re here whenever we’re not on the road. You haven’t slept at your apartment in I don’t know how long. Months?” I falter, slightly, when the smile slips off of his face. “There are a lot of reasons why it makes more sense for you to bring all of your things over here. But mostly, I just want you to live here.”
Nigel’s fingers are still tucked into my pants, and his free hand is resting on my hip. With every word I speak I feel his grip tighten, though his expression remains unchanged. He’s staring at me, mutely.
“You want me to move in.” He says after a long, silent minute.
“Yes.” I take it as a good sign that he hasn’t pulled his hands away, or taken a step back.
“Are you sure?” He asks, quietly. “Nothing has to change, Corwin. There’s no relationship blueprint we have to follow.”
I pause. I think about the way I’d woken up yesterday morning, with his arm around me and his body warm against mine. I think about how I felt when I looked at him six years ago, and how I feel when I look at him now.Am I sure?
“I’m sure.” Nigel’s brown eyes are warm, his expression affectionate. It gives me the courage to continue. “I would have asked you before now, but I’ve been worried about what people might assume, if they found out. But I don’t want to miss out on time with you, regardless of what people might think.”
His eyes flutter closed, and he inhales deeply. The hand resting in my waistband slides upward, inside my shirt, until his palm is warm against my flank. He takes a step forward, opening his eyes.
