Chapter Twenty-Two
Troy: Can our date start Tuesday morning and end Wednesday afternoon?
The text had been left unanswered for twenty minutes, and Troy was milliseconds away from calling Harris when he finally saw the three dots.
Harris: Sounds like a hell of a date.
Troy smiled and wrote, It’s going to be amazing. And it’s a surprise, so don’t ask.
Harris: Do I need to pack anything?
Troy: Is that a yes?
Harris: I’m curious now! Of course it’s a yes!
Alone in his apartment, Troy pumped his fist triumphantly.
Since Harris had left on Saturday morning, Troy had been frantically trying to think of the perfect date to take him on.
He wanted it to not only be something that Harris would enjoy, but something that would give him a real break from work.
Something that would allow Troy to take care of him.
They had never discussed the fact that Troy was a millionaire, but Troy got the impression that Harris wasn’t interested in fancy restaurants or lavish gifts. Troy still wanted to spoil him a little, though.
Then he’d gotten an idea. It took some internet searching, but Troy found the perfect place: a spa retreat in Quebec, less than two hours away, that had private chalets.
He knew it was a long shot when he’d called, because it was extremely short notice, but he’d gotten lucky: there had been a last-minute cancellation.
The woman he’d spoken to had apologetically told him that he would have to book the exact same package that had been canceled, and Troy had laughed when she’d told him what it was.
The Lovebird Getaway.
She hadn’t sounded the least bit surprised or offended when Troy had given her Harris’s name as the second guest. It was the first time Troy had ever indicated his sexuality to a stranger, and, once the butterflies in his stomach had calmed down, he’d felt a wave of relief surge through him.
He’d booked a romantic getaway for himself and his boyfriend, and it was fine. He’d used his real name and everything.
Troy: Pack a bathing suit and comfy clothes.
Harris: How am I supposed to tweet about the All-Star Game now?
Troy had, wonderfully, forgotten about the All-Star game. He decided to leave Harris alone for now, and wrote: I’ll pick you up at 10am on Tuesday.
Harris replied with a string of excited-face emojis.
“Oh my god,” Harris squeaked.
“Okay, so the thing is—”
“Oh my god. I have dreamed of coming to this place.”
Troy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at Harris’s excitement as he took in the stunning interior of the main lodge. “I was only able to book it on short notice because someone canceled, so I had to book the same package they had.”
“Unless it was the You Have to go Home Immediately package, I don’t care.”
“It’s the Lovebird Getaway. So it might be a bit...much.”
Harris’s eyes went even wider. “Is this our honeymoon?”
Troy elbowed him. “Calm down.”
He went to the desk and got them checked in. The woman working there turned out to be the same woman he’d spoken to on the phone, Cora.
“Our last-minute lovebirds,” she said warmly in her Quebecois accent. “You can leave your bags here, and we will bring them to your cabin. Just take your bathing suits out first, and you will start your day with a soak in our hot tub.”
Harris was bouncing on his toes, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. As a pro athlete, hot tubs, saunas and steam rooms were an almost daily necessity for Troy, but he had a feeling this would be a more enjoyable soaking experience than most.
They were led to a change room with lockers and left alone to put on their bathing suits. “So far this is a lot like a typical day at work,” Troy said. “Hot tub, locker room.”
“So far this is the best day of my life, so shush.”
One thing that was different about this locker room and the ones Troy was normally in was that this time he openly ogled the man who was undressing next to him.
“Already?” Harris teased when he noticed Troy’s semi-erect cock.
“I missed you.”
Harris pulled his swim trunks up, then wrapped his arms around Troy’s neck. “I missed you too.” He kissed him, and Troy wondered how important it was that they did any of the spa treatments. The cabin had a bed that could probably provide all the relaxation and rejuvenation Troy needed.
But Harris looked so damn happy. And adorable, now that he was bundling himself into the fluffy white bathrobe the spa had provided.
There were some medical forms that they both needed to fill out. Troy finished his quickly, and it occurred to him that Harris might have more boxes to check.
“There’s nothing here that’s unsafe for you, is there?” Troy asked.
“Not unless we’re skydiving.”
Troy huffed. “God, I hope not.”
Harris kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I think I’m safe then. I need to be careful about the hot tub, but I’m fine with them if I don’t stay in too long. Let’s go get pampered!”
The hot tub room was fancy as hell. The tub itself was the size of a small swimming pool, recessed into the dark granite floor. The lighting was dim and dramatic, and soft music reverberated off the stone walls.
“Wow,” Harris whispered. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome.”
“Yeah. This is not my usual hot tub.”
They removed their robes and stepped into the hot water. Harris moaned as soon as he got himself seated, the echo of it bouncing off the walls. “Oh man. This is the best.”
Troy grinned and sat next to him in the same corner. “Soaking in hot water rules.”
“Mm.” Harris closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “My body isn’t going to know what hit it. I never treat it this well.”
“You work too hard.”
Harris scoffed. “Compared to you? Hardly.”
“Well, how about we make our time here hockey-free?”
Harris smiled without opening his eyes. “Sounds perfect.”
His skin was already deep pink from the hot water, and it made the white line of his scar stand out more. Troy tried not to stare at it, but he couldn’t help but worry about the heart behind it.
“Still beating,” Harris said mildly. Troy noticed that his eyes had opened, and he flooded with embarrassment.
“Sorry. I wasn’t staring.”
Harris brushed his foot against Troy’s. “Yes you were. It’s okay. I get it. That’s why I don’t lounge around in a bathing suit very often.”
“I’m sorry,” Troy said again. He wanted to tell him he didn’t need to hide his scars, but he was the last person who should be telling someone not to hide. Instead, he reached under the water and pulled Harris’s foot onto his lap. He lightly caressed the hills and valleys of his ankle.
Harris sighed happily. “Do I get a massage before my massage?”
“I just want to touch you.”
Harris’s eyes went a little gooey. “Are you nervous, being here with me?”
“No,” Troy said, then corrected himself. “Not as nervous as I thought I’d be anyway.”
“That’s good.”
“I mean, there’s nothing to hide at this point. We’re two men enjoying a couple’s retreat at a romantic spa. No one can misinterpret that. There’s something freeing about having that worry taken away.”
Harris inched a little closer to him. “That’s true.”
“Was it scary for you, when you came out?”
“Of course. Even when you’re sure your friends and family will be cool and supportive, it’s still scary. But most of my fear was, like you said, around the possibility of someone finding out my secret. Once it wasn’t a secret anymore, I didn’t have to worry about that.”
“I’d like to know how that feels. I’ve been fucking terrified my whole life that someone would find out. I didn’t touch another man until Adrian, when I was twenty-three. So if I’m doing anything wrong in bed, that’s my excuse.”
“You’re definitely not doing anything wrong in bed, stud.”
Troy smiled and ran his palm up Harris’s shin, then back down. When his hand returned to Harris’s knee, Harris, gave a shaky laugh and said, “Don’t go any higher or I’m going to have an awkward time leaving the bath.”
Troy’s own dick perked up. He wished he could haul Harris out of the water and take him right here on the fancy stone tiles. He would love to hear Harris’s moans echoing in the quiet, cavernous room. “Is this too high?” he asked, walking his fingers up Harris’s thigh.
Harris swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. I mean it. Don’t make this weird for the poor staff.”
“Serves them right for making this place so sexy.”
Harris grinned and sank deeper into the water, retrieving his leg from Troy’s lap. “It is sexy. But I can wait until we’re in our cabin. The waiting makes it sexier, right?”
“You know, we don’t have to get the massages...”
“No way, superstar. Some of us don’t get daily rubdowns. I haven’t had a massage in ages.”
“Fine.”
“And Troy?”
“Mm?”
“This is already the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Troy’s heart flipped. “Me too.”
The hot stone massage turned out to be far more enjoyable than the often painful deep tissue massages Troy got from the team therapist. It also had more loud, filthy moaning than Troy was used to. All of it from the table next to his, and all of it making it very difficult for Troy to relax.
“Unf. Why don’t I always have hot stones on my back?” Harris said, his words sleepy and slurred with pleasure.
Both of the massage therapists were laughing. Harris had barely shut up the entire massage. Troy had been mostly silent, since he was entirely focused on not getting a boner, but he was grinning into his face rest. He’d never expected to be so charmed by such an unrepentant goofball.
Lunch was served in a private room where they ate healthy and delicious grain bowls and drank fresh-pressed juice in their bathrobes. It felt decadent, even with the high nutritional value.
After lunch, they had some procedures that were as exciting to Troy as they were to Harris: facials, followed by manicures and pedicures.
Troy had always taken care of his skin—he had often been roasted by Dallas Kent for his daily regimen when they’d roomed together.
But Dallas’s forehead was always covered in helmet acne, so fuck him.