Hard Landing

Chapter 1

One

When Hawk Montineau joined the line at the little noodle shop he’d found just on the edge of the neighborhood where Olympic village sat, he grinned at the man behind the counter, who acknowledged him with a nod.

Not far from the high-rises where they were all staying lay a hotbed of street food stands and small restaurants, and he’d found he had a real fondness for buckwheat noodles and also the hotteok, or sweet pancakes, he could get at the stall just next to the noodle shop.

It had taken a few tries to get used to ordering food in Korea.

It wasn’t like walking into a fast-food place in the States, where everything was the same, and where he could sit with his headphones on and zone out.

He had learned that space was at a premium, right now especially, and he was better off either sitting at the tiny counter instead of trying to get a table or getting it to go so he could wander and slurp at the same time.

While it was cold in PyeongChang this time of year, it had nothing on some of the places he’d played in Canada, or in like, Finland, where he’d gone for a competition once. In his decent coat and boots, he could even go sit in a park and eat.

He stuck his hands in his pockets while he waited, because the shop was small, and the door kept opening and closing, but he’d taken off his gloves to check his phone.

The door opened again, and cold air hit the back of his neck, but he couldn’t really go anywhere. Someone stepped into the line behind him, a little too close, because the door had to be able to open, so he shifted sideways slightly to allow more space.

Hawk knew he was a big guy. A lot larger than most of the Korean people around him. And he had a larger personal bubble than even most of his fellow American athletes. But the person behind him bumped him, like, three times, and he wanted to glare a little.

He didn’t. It was considered seriously rude.

But then the door opened again, and the guy behind him went, “Ooph,” and staggered into him, jabbing him in the right kidney with what felt like a smart phone.

“Ugh!” He didn’t really stagger, but damn, that stung.

“Shit! Shit, sorry. Uh…” The guy had to be another American with that accent.

Hawk turned around and saw a fellow athlete, one he recognized right away. Caleb Lancaster was a superstar snowboarder with a shit-ton of X Games wins, a bunch of World Cup titles, and a good chance at a gold here at the Olympics.

The person who had knocked them together skirted around them, hurrying to cut in line, and Jake’s eyebrows flew up. “Dude, I think you just got body-checked by a monk.”

Lancaster’s face split into a wicked grin, his white teeth flashing in his scruffy jaw. “No kidding? Man, that’s lowering.”

“Yep.” He moved up in line when another cashier waved the people in front of him forward. “Caleb Lancaster, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Caleb blinked at him, bright blue eyes searching his face.

“Hawk Montineau. Hockey. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice. I knew I knew your face.” They moved up one in the line.

“Yeah. So you excited?” Hawk felt super-awkward, but it was nice to talk to a fellow Olympian who wasn’t one of his teammates.

Oh, they were all in the village, and they could chat all they wanted in the dining hall and shit, but that was the thing.

There was no chance for any kind of quiet or real conversation, and Hawk kind of needed the downtime.

He was way more of a one-on-one guy.

“Focused, actually.” Caleb’s cheeks went pink. “I spread myself thin by doing all the events I could do at Worlds last year, and I partied some with the other athletes. So now, I’m focusing on the pipe, you know? And I’m in the best shape of my life.”

Hawk had to agree there. Caleb Lancaster was compact, but he had that tight musculature which spoke of hard work and a body tuned into its particular sport.

And it was a hot-as-fuck little body besides.

Not that he was letting himself look as much as he wanted to, because was the guy even old enough to drink?

Okay, he wasn’t too far off that at his whopping twenty-three, but damn.

“That’s cool. I’m kind of psyched because I got to come out and play this year.” He winked, then waved for Caleb to order before him as they reached the counter.

“Thanks.” Caleb grinned some more, then ordered a noodle cup. “And whatever you want, huh? I’ll buy you brunch.”

“Thanks.” That was cool. He pointed to the menu, and the guy at the counter grinned and nodded.

“Everyone is so damn nice, huh?” Caleb pulled out a few bills to pay.

“Seriously. Though I got to tell you, my French does me absolutely no good here.” He chuckled. “I learned a few words, but Korean is so tonal I’m afraid I’ll screw up.”

Caleb chuckled as they moved aside to wait for their drinks. “Yeah. My Spanish is pretty useless here, too.”

“I can see that.” He wondered if Caleb had just taken Spanish in high school or what.

He was pretty curious about the guy. Had been since he’d watched the X Games last year when he’d been laid up with a strained groin.

Something about the way Caleb moved had caught his attention.

And then every time he saw Caleb do an interview, that smile had sucked him right into the TV.

Okay, that sounded way worse than it really was. More horror movie or porno than romantic interest. God knew that wasn’t what he meant, but at least he hadn’t said something out loud.

“You okay?” When Hawk raised an eyebrow, Caleb grinned a little bit. “You just look very serious all of a sudden.”

“I take my noodles very seriously. Actually, I might be craving McDonald’s.”

“Oh my god, don’t say that where they can hear you. And there’s a McD’s at the village.”

“I know. I just needed to get out of there for a little while. Looks like you did too.”

“Yeah, it was starting to get a little stifling, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks. Me too.” They both got their food, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Should he head for the door? Should he see if Caleb wanted to go for a walk with him? He would love to spend some more time in this guy’s company.

“Hey, I gotta head back toward the village. I have to train some today, but do you want to walk with me? We can go that way together.”

Look at that. Caleb solved his dilemma for him. “Yeah, I don’t have practice until this afternoon, but I can totally head that way with you.”

“Cool.” They both pulled on gloves and hats to go out into the cold, then slowly made their way back toward the Olympic village, slurping noodles.

“So when is your first game?” Caleb asked.

“Uh, like a week after the opening ceremony, I think?” He wasn’t sure without the schedule in front of him.

“Damn. I think we’ll be on the same schedule, then. I was hoping to see a game.”

“Hey, it’s pretty easy to get around. And some of our stuff is on different days.” He grinned, because he’d looked up all the transports to the various events. He could be obsessive, and he really wanted to go see some of the prelim halfpipe rounds…

“I guess. Sure. And the public transport is nice here, huh?” Caleb sipped his broth, giving him a sideways glance.

“It is. That’s one of the best things about anywhere not the states, huh? How easy it is to get around.” God, he was making stupid, inane chitchat. Usually he only did that at official events and parties for various foundations.

“Dude.” Caleb snorted. “We sound like old fucks at a charity event.”

“No shit, man. I was just thinking that.” He laughed along with Caleb. “I’m just not really all that good at getting to know people. You know? I’m on the team with the guys, then we see the same people every week playing games and stuff, so I don’t know how to make small talk.”

“Well, fuck the small talk, then.” Caleb held up the hand not holding the coffee and began counting off fingers.

“No weather, no talking about training, and no looking up schedules. And we can only talk about our respective sports if they come up organically. Deal?” When he nodded, Caleb grinned. “Okay. Go.”

“Uh. Sure. What food are you dying to try here?” See him come up with something on the fly.

“Dude. All the fun pancakes. They say those are like, the street food of all street food. Well, that and fried things. You ever been here before?”

“Nope. I haven’t traveled for anything but hockey since the summer after my senior year. I did two and a half weeks in Italy. Rome, Florence, and Venice. Then I had to report to training camp.”

“Yeah. We tend to travel to cold places, huh?”

“We do, but man, that was an awesome trip. I ate my weight in pasta and pizza, but since I walked like twenty damn miles a day, I lost weight instead of gaining it.”

“Oh, that’s rad.”

They strolled and nibbled, neither of them in any hurry, he thought, and he ignored the curious glances their team gear garnered.

“What’s your favorite place to travel?” Hawk asked.

“On tour? I dig Iceland. It has this super-chill vibe, and all these natural hot springs. In the summer? I’ve been all over. Thailand has amazing food. For surfing I like Brazil. Hawaii is good, but Brazil is epic.” Caleb chuckled, his breath pluming out. “Sorry. I ramble.”

“Hey, no, don’t be sorry. I’ve never surfed, but I went to Sao Paolo once for a bull riding.”

“No shit? You a fan?”

“I mean, I’m happy to watch it. I had a teammate from there who invited me down for a week one summer.” Joao had been a hoot. Still was, but he’d been traded a year ago to Detroit.

“Cowboys are crazy, right? I’ve been to cowboy weekends in Steamboat and Crested Butte. Those folks are nuts.”

They compared notes on all sorts of experiences only guys like them could have, and when Hawk looked up and realized they were at the Olympic village, he felt a real pang of regret that he was out of time.

“Well, this is me,” Caleb said when they reached the residence halls. “I need to go get changed and run on the damn treadmill for like, an hour to make up for all the carbs…”

“Yeah. I have maybe two hours before I have to gear up for practice at the rink.”

Still, they just stood there staring at each other. and Hawk tried to take in every detail in case he didn’t see Caleb again. Green eyes. Honey-colored hair worn a bit too long. Scruffy gold whiskers. The scar next to Caleb’s gorgeous lips.

God, he was really, really interested in this guy, which was pretty unusual for him.

“So, hey, I have until after the opening ceremonies to hang out here,” Caleb blurted out. “Did you want to, like, get together tonight? Maybe hit one of those sweet little restaurants and have supper?”

Hawk blinked. “Hell, yes. How do I get a hold of you?”

“Just meet me out in the courtyard at like, six?”

He grinned, because that removed the awkward phone number exchange and shit for the moment. “I can do that.” And if something happened, he’d get someone to tell Caleb for him that he couldn’t make it.

But he was going to do his dead-level best to be there, though. Caleb was easily the most interesting guy he’d ever met.