Chapter Nineteen
Roman
My alarm goes off bright and early. Morning skate today… we have a game later tonight, which gives me plenty of time to do what I want during the day, but we still skate first thing in the morning.
As I roll over to shut off my alarm, I nearly squish Nico, who groans.
“Sorry.” I kiss his head, and stop the alarm on my phone, but continue to cuddle with him, pulling him closer.
Nico will stay through to the closing ceremonies, like most will do, but that’s sooner than it is later.
I never thought when I came here any of this would happen.
I didn’t intend on meeting someone that I connect with in such a way.
Someone like him. Yet here we are, sharing a bed together.
Not wanting to leave. My feelings for him are big—bigger than they should be for the short time we’ve been together, but I can’t help that.
“Hey, you up?” Connor calls out.
I can’t get the words out before he bursts into my room, like he typically does.
“Shit!” he says, darting out of the room when he sees someone in my bed. “Sorry! I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” I call back. “And yes, I’m up.”
“I’ll meet you at the dining hall. Heading out in five.”
“K!”
Nico chuckles, turning in my arms to look up at me. He leans in to kiss my jaw, then my neck, and my chest. I groan, my dick already hard just from him being naked in my bed.
“Will a blow job make your morning skate better?” he asks.
“Only one way to find out.”
He smiles as he shoves the blankets off and leans down to suck me into his mouth.
I press on his hip so I can get to his cock, which is leaking, and wrap my hand around it.
I stroke him lazily, trying to focus but with the way he’s sucking me off and being half asleep, it’s not easy.
He fucks my hand, though, and he has no problem coming seconds after I do, making a mess on me and my bed.
“Sorry,” he says, looking down at it.
I shrug. “Don’t mind. It’s just cum.”
He chuckles as he gets up, grabbing the already used towel from last night to wipe himself up. He tosses it to me, and I clean as best as I can.
“You can shower if you want.”
“I’ll just grab a shower back at my room. I want to change anyway.”
I nod as I get up and peek my head into the main area. The apartment is quiet. Connor must have gone already.
“He’s gone,” I tell Nico.
He nods, but it feels like something is wrong.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, sitting on the end of the bed as he gets dressed.
“Fine. Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re not smiling like usual.”
“Can’t smile all the time.”
Nico pulls up his pants, wiggling into them. I take his wrist and gently pull him into my lap.
“What’s wrong?”
He holds my gaze, chewing his bottom lip. I’m not sure he’s going to tell me. Why would he? He has no reason to talk to me about his problems, but I wish he would.
“Nico,” I say gently, running my hands up his smooth back. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just hitting me that we only have a few days left.”
I nod, understanding that all too well.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say.
“Are you bothered by it?” he asks cautiously. He sounds so unsure and I don’t like that. He’s sure about everything, all the time.
“Of course I am,” I say firmly. “I’m not afraid to admit I’m going to miss you… miss this.”
He nods, sighing, and leans in to hug me. We stay like that until I have no time left.
He goes, leaving behind a melancholic feeling as I shower and get ready to head down to meet Connor for breakfast.
He’s grinning as I reach the table with my plate of food.
“Well, you had a good night then?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, sitting down and forcing a smile.
“Oh no. What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is he mad I saw him?”
“Do you even know who you saw?” I ask.
“Not at first, but I’ve put two and two together.”
“He’s not mad,” I say. “He said he doesn’t care.”
“Do you?” he asks carefully.
“No. Not at all. Why would I?”
He shrugs, hunching his shoulders slightly as he digs into his food. “Being gay and a hockey player doesn’t really go together.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what goes together,” I say more harshly than needed. “Sorry.”
I don’t mean to snap at him, but I’m tired of the stereotypes, and Nico bringing up us parting ways soon and seeing how upset he is about it is bothering me.
I’ve been upset about it; I can handle that.
Knowing he’s upset? I don’t fucking like it.
But what can I do about it? Nothing.
I live in the US, all the way in Colorado.
Almost two thousand miles away from him, in Montreal—another country.
Our schedules are crazy busy with me traveling all over, and honestly, I don’t know what he does during the year because I’ve never really looked into that.
Do they have competitions throughout the year?
Does he just practice all the time? He must do something that brings in money, right?
He mentioned having a busy schedule. Tours and stuff, but I don’t know how aggressive they are.
“Hey, you good?” Connor asks.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“If you’re worried about the game, don’t. I’ll be on my game.”
“I’m not worried about that, Roman. You’re a good player, and I know you won’t have your head up your ass. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay, but…” He pauses and I look up at him. “I think I know what you’re upset about.”
“Do you?” I question.
“Yes,” he says firmly. “Because I met someone too, and knowing we live so far apart… it sucks.”
I narrow my eyes, not sure if he’s bullshitting to make me feel better, but something about his tone makes me believe him.
“Yeah… it does.”
We finish eating, and head over on the bus with the other guys. Morning skate goes well, but all I can think about is last night and skating around the rink with Nico.
I’ve known him for a week. How can I be this attached?
How can I not stop thinking about him? I struggle to connect with people; it’s why I stick to myself.
And typically, he isn’t the kind of person I would hang out with.
Not to mention the slight age gap… Yet all I want to do is be with him.
And it really sucks because once we leave here, that’s it.
We haven’t talked about it, and I don’t think we will.
What’s there to say? We’re leaving but we’ll keep in touch—even though we know we won’t, because it’ll hurt too much.
That’s obviously how this is going to go.
We’re just going to forget about this time, act like it never happened, and move on with our lives when we get home. Because there is no other option.
Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Maybe once I’m home and back on my own team, hockey will be my life again. Maybe not everything will remind me of Nico Laurent.
Maybe…