Chapter 29 - Karter | Two Months Later #4
He snorted. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this.”
“Well, I spent my whole life trying to earn the love of a dad who wasn’t interested. I know how it’ll work out.” I reached over and rested my hand on his thigh. “It took me a long time to figure out the difference between letting go and forgiving. They’re not the same thing.”
Aleksey grasped my hand, turning his palm over to thread his fingers through mine. His grip was solid. “Look at you, getting all wise on me.”
I squeezed once and kept my eyes on the road.
The apartment building came back into view past eleven, a single window lit on the third floor.
I pulled into a spot near the curb and killed the engine, the headlights dying against the brick.
Aleksey didn’t move right away. His hand stayed closed around mine, and neither of us reached for the door.
Whatever had shifted out there on that cracked concrete, we didn’t want to break the spell.
Then he turned his palm over, squeezed my fingers once, let go of my hand, and pushed the passenger car door open. “Come on. Mama’s probably still up.”
When we entered the apartment, it was dark except for the blue glow of the television.
Alya had sunk deep into her armchair, head tilted to one side, her breathing slow and even.
Some late-night talk show murmured through the speakers.
Alya cracked an eye open as we passed, lifted a hand in a tired wave, then let it drop back onto the armrest.
I followed Aleksey down the short hallway to a door at the end. He pushed it open and stepped aside to let me in first.
Aleksey’s childhood bedroom was barely big enough for the twin bed wedged against the wall.
Hockey posters covered every inch of available space—NHC logos and player names I recognized from the past—their edges crisp where someone had pressed down the curling corners.
The sheets were pulled tight, the single pillow fluffed, and the air smelled faintly of whatever cleaner Alya used in the rest of the apartment.
The mattress sagged when I sat down on the bed, old springs groaning under my weight.
Aleksey kicked off his shoes and climbed in behind me, his chest warm against my back as his arm curled around my waist. The bed pulled us together toward the center dip, and every time one of us shifted, something creaked.
I relaxed and listened to Aleksey breathe slowly against the back of my neck. “Milwaukee starts in two weeks,” Aleksey whispered, his voice vibrating against my hair.
“I know.”
“It’s a long distance.” He sounded unsure. “Think we can handle it?”
I knew what he was really asking: if I’d realize I could do better when he wasn’t around.
I pressed back against his chest, settling deeper into the sag of the mattress. “I’ve already got it mapped.”
His thumb stopped moving. “Really?”
“Yup. Halfway there’s a diner off the interstate. Figured we could meet there on your rest days.”
A long pause. His grip on my hip tightened. “So you haven’t changed your mind about us.”
I reached up and pressed my thumb to the tight muscle below his cheekbone until it softened under my touch. “Hey. I drove all the way here to tape boxes and eat delicious stew with your mother. So, I’m not letting you go.”
Aleksey exhaled hard through his nose. Then he hauled me closer, his arm locking tighter around my waist, and buried his face in the curve of my neck. The tension seemed to bleed out of his shoulders in one long, slow breath.
Then his fingers dragged lower, tracing the waistband of my jeans. His mouth found the side of my neck, and a sharp breath caught in my throat before I could stop it. I could feel my cock already begin to get a little harder, my hips shifting for more.
Right at that moment, the thin plaster wall creaked.
I grabbed his wrist. “We can’t, not here. Your mom.”
Aleksey froze. Then a laugh fell out of him as he rested his forehead against my shoulder.
“Yeah. Okay.” He flopped onto his back, still grinning, and dragged a hand over his face. “I’m definitely not traumatizing my mother tonight.”
A few months ago, I would’ve second-guessed myself. Wondered if stopping meant something was wrong. But the easy way Aleksey flopped onto his back, still grinning, told me everything.
I shifted onto my side and hooked my ankle over his, my head finding the curve of his shoulder. “Can’t believe I just cock-blocked myself on purpose.”
“First time for everything.” His chest shook under my cheek.
I grinned as I closed my eyes. “Shut up.”
Two weeks until Aleksey goes to Milwaukee.
My own sophomore year after that. And yeah, the thought of walking into the Ridge Cross team locker room as the first openly gay guy on the roster still twisted my stomach into knots.
But the sag of this old mattress, the heat of Aleksey curled around me, the steady thump of his heartbeat under my palm—all of it felt a hell of a lot more real than anything I was afraid of.
So, I lay my hand flat against his chest and let my eyes stay shut.