“Uh, if I don’t see Ollie on the way out, can you tell him work called? Thanks.”
We say our quick goodbyes, and I make my way out of the private room. The Honey Bee is one of Boston’s underground hangouts, and as I make my way upstairs, Max passes me the other way, “accidentally” bumping his shoulder with mine.
It’s like I’m back in high school being picked on by everyone who was bigger than me, which was, well, everyone. I hit my growth spurt so late I thought I was going to stay five eight forever. The last few inches came a year too late—my freshman year of college.
Ollie appears at the top of the stairs. He smiles down at me and comes to meet me halfway in the middle of the stairwell. “I’m sorry about Max. He’s … uh …”
“A dick? I figured that one out on my own. Thanks.” Then I realize how harsh that sounds. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t say that about your brother.”
“He’s not that bad. He, uh, well, he’s my ex’s best friend. He’s still mad over the breakup.”
“It doesn’t sound like it was your fault though. Situations like yours …”
“Well, it wasn’t Ash’s fault. He went back into the closet for me for four years.”
My eyes widen. “Four years? That’s like ten times the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”
“I think that says more about you than me.”
I laugh. “That’s probably true. Like, really true.”
“Were you looking for me, or—” Ollie’s gaze goes to my bag.
“I got an emergency call from work, and I have to go.”
His downcast hazel eyes make me want to quit my job, but I also can’t be sure what I’m seeing is actual disappointment or if I’m hoping it is. Plus, in the past, I’ve been known to read into things, thanks to the Jefferson High football team for fucking with me and making social cues so much harder to trust.
The stairwell is narrow, so we’re practically pushed up against each other, and I really wish I didn’t have to go.
Stupid closeted jock magnet.
Ollie shuffles from one foot to the other, and he’s so freaking adorable with his hands in his pockets. This giant, muscled hockey player is shy and a little bit awkward, and I can’t help loving it.
I take a step closer, which makes him raise his head.
His brow scrunches. “What are you—”
“Shh. I’m seizing an opportunity.” I don’t know where my courage or the idea to do this comes from, because it’s backfired so many times in the past, but I lean in and kiss his mouth gently. It’s quick and chaste but well worth it. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to kiss a jock. Lifelong fantasy. Guess I can cross that off my bucket list.”
Technically, I’ve been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it, but maybe once I’d like for it not to end badly.
I wait for the situation to turn, but it doesn’t.
Instead, Ollie looks left and right to make sure no one’s coming and then steps closer. “Well, in that case, better make it worth it.” He grabs me around my waist and brings me fully against him and then pushes his tongue into my mouth.
None of my teenage athlete fantasies live up to the reality of Ollie Strömberg running his hands up my back to cup my face and dive in deeper.
His tongue tangles with mine, and we stumble until Ollie’s pushed against the handrail of the staircase.
It’s hard to tell which one of us groans, but it breaks something in Ollie, and he pulls back, hitting his head against the wall.
“Damn, I wish things were different,” he whispers. “I’d love to take you on an actual date.”
“I live in Chicago.”
Ollie pulls back. “What?”
“I’m only in town for a few days for work.”
“Oh.” That’s definite disappointment I hear, and I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.
“Besides, you’re getting over your ex and can’t come out because of hockey, and I’m, well, me. I’d love to go on a date with you too, but that sounds like a whole lot of nope.”
“About the hockey thing—”
“Yeah. About that.” Tell him who you are. Promise you won’t print anything. “You should probably know …” Don’t tell him. Why ruin this and make him paranoid when you’ll never see him again and you don’t report on hockey anyway? Don’t ruin your perfect kiss with reality.
“Know what?”
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
He lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You did me this huge favor today and put up with my family, and then I basically ask you to shut your mouth.”
I lean in for another kiss: a slow, soft kiss. “I understand one hundred percent. Probably more than you know. I hope everything works out with your family. At least they won’t be talking in your ear about Ash anymore, right?”