Ryker
RYKER
When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone. I roll onto my back and rub the sleep from my eyes. Waking up alone sucks. Waking up alone when I don’t have to wake up alone sucks even more.
I slide my palm over the other side of the bed. The sheets are cold. I have no idea when Lake got up. He was asleep when I got home. Now he’s gone.
I try to listen for any sounds, but the apartment is quiet, so I get up. I’m just out of the shower when I hear the front door. I pull on a pair of shorts and go to the living area where I find Lake putting groceries away.
“Morning,” I say.
He stills for a second, and when he turns around he has a very un-Lake-like wide smile on his face.
“Hey,” he says. “You’re up.”
I step closer and eye the paper grocery bags with a frown. “You went to the grocery store? Voluntarily?”
He sticks his tongue out at me. “I’m making you breakfast.” He closes the fridge door, turns around, and leans against it. “I’m sorry about last night. I think it might’ve been something to do with the wind and the cold, but by the time I was done talking to Mom my head was killing me.”
“You should’ve come and got me,” I say.
“I didn’t want to ruin your evening.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He shrugs. Shrugs and doesn’t say anything else.
I go and hug him, and he wraps his arms around me at once.
“Next time come and get me. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry,” he mutters into the side of my neck.
I finally relax. “What are you making me?”
“Breakfast burritos.”
“You know how to make breakfast burritos?” I raise my brows at him.
“Of course I do. I just usually don’t want to.”
He grins at me, and I feel kind of dumb for feeling relieved.
We’re fine.
The weeks leading up to Christmas are stupidly busy, with Lake studying all the time and me living out of my suitcase because of all the away games, so by the time the twenty-fourth arrives, and the three days of no games scheduled, I’m happy to just hide away in our apartment.
Last year we celebrated the holidays with Kelly, Rach, and Sawyer in Boston, but since Rach and Sawyer are still away and will make it back for New Year’s and Kelly is scheduled to work, it’s just the two of us for Christmas. I’m secretly happy about it. I get to have Lake all to myself.
Lake isn’t much for holidays anyway, so we don’t bother with any of the traditions. I put up lights because I feel like it but forgo most other traditions.
We’ll make our own.
For three days, we alternately fuck and veg out on the couch, watching movies.
We go for a walk on the evening of the twenty-fourth and barely manage to close the front door behind us when we get back home before Lake’s hands are in my jeans and he’s in front of me on his knees with my dick down his throat. We follow that up with a second round in our bed, where we take our time with each other.
To be fair, we spend most of those three days in bed, talking, fucking, watching TV, eating takeout and getting crumbs everywhere.
We stay up late and then spend the next day lazily dozing in the weak December sunshine that comes through the windows since neither of us bothered to draw the curtains.
We’re naked and warm, pressed together, head to toe, neither willing to move an inch.
It’s kind of perfect.