Chapter 23 Stefan
Stefan
October
New York, NY
Evan and I have managed to squeeze in four too brief visits, countless text messages, and as many video chats as possible.
For the first time since the World Championships, we’re both going to be at the same competition.
It’s the first of this year’s Circuit Championships series, Circuit America, and I’m beyond excited.
To see Evan, and to show off my hard-won skills.
The problem is, in the six months since we started doing this thing, we’ve managed to keep our relationship secret.
It was the plan, of course, and I should be grateful we've succeeded so far.
I haven't had to deal with any fallout to my sponsorships, and we haven't had to fight with International Competitive Skating or either of our home countries.
It's one thing to be falling for a man. It's another thing for the entire world to have an opinion on that fact.
I've kept my parents clueless. Part of me wants to open up and tell them, hopes that when I do so, they'll be supportive. The rest of me is terrified they won't be.
The problem is, Evan and I are in the same place at the same time and I can't do anything about it. I want him in my hotel room. Right now. All week. For the first time, I want a roommate. A very specific roommate, yes, but a roommate. And I can’t come up with a single excuse that will make it happen.
The neighbors on all sides of me know me too well. Dad's in the room next door. I can't bring Evan to me. He'll have a roommate, so I can't go to him.
Stupid hotel, not screwing up this time.
So, I have to figure out a way to spend time with him, in a hotel full of gossipy figure skaters, without anyone noticing. Right. Because that's easy.
Evan arrives a few hours after me. The moment he texts me he's arrived and gives me his room number, I’m off.
Sneakily. I creep down a few flights of stairs until I’m on his floor.
Do I have a good excuse for me to be on the fourth floor?
Nope, but I'm here anyway, in a hallway reeking of burnt microwave popcorn.
Me
Come out, come out, wherever you are!
A few seconds later, his head pops out of his doorway. "What are you doing?" he stage whispers at me.
From about twenty feet away, I grin at him.
It's been well over a month since I've seen him in person, and all I want to do is wrap him up in a hug.
Well, no, I'd much rather wrap him up in a hug and kiss him until we both pass out from lack of oxygen.
But we're in public. "You know that stage whispers carry further than just talking, right? "
He shakes his head, and the laughter lighting up his eyes is obvious, even from as far away as I am. "I should go to bed. I'm beat."
I nod solemnly. "Me too."
"Then what are you doing outside my door?"
I gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I'm not outside your door. I'm outside this random person's door. Just because you happen to be two doors down... "
Yeah, I’m shit at sneaky.
Evan appears to get the memo because he holds a single finger up and goes back into his room, saying something to his roommate.
A moment later, he’s back outside the door, in the hallway with me, door closing firmly behind him.
After giving an exaggerated look over both of our shoulders, I pull him into the hug I've been craving.
Evan, being Evan, laughs into my shoulder while he hisses, "You're about as subtle as a rhinoceros."
"I missed you."
His voice softens. "I missed you too, baby. But if we want to keep this quiet, this is not how we do it." A gentle click back down the hall has me jumping, then looking over his shoulder. Just his door, closing. We need to find somewhere less conspicuous.
"I know," I huff. "Come on, I've found where the snacks are." Which is both a true statement and a very good excuse for getting him away from his room for a minute. Because I can be sneaky. Kind of.
We keep our hands off each other all the way down the elevator, even though we have it to ourselves. We manage to stay separate as we walk down the endless corridor to the hotel’s breakfast area. Even if my whole body is tingling in his presence.
Thank fuck, nobody is in the dimly lit area. It also smells better than the hallway outside his room, if still overpowered by food. There’s a basket with some microwave popcorn and granola bars, but I ignore them.
Instead, I pull him around the half wall closing off a section of the dining area and kiss him senseless. I need him like I need air. And after an initial half-baked protest, he gives in, kissing me back just as greedily.
I'm ready to drop down to my knees then and there, fingers tucked behind his fly, about to undo the button.
But Evan, ever the voice of reason, stops me.
"I don't think getting arrested for public indecency is going to help our cause.
You've already been barred from one international competition.
Do you want to chance another?" His voice is breathless. He wants it as much as I do. But he’s annoyingly correct.
"Circuit America is hardly the World Championships,” I answer, sulking. Knowing I’m sulking. Evan just brings it out of me, no matter how many times I claim that I don't do it. Maybe because he’s always right.
He stops my sulking with another kiss.
"So we’re in the same city, same hotel, even, but now what?" He sounds almost as peevish about it as I feel, which is heartening.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I've been trying to figure out. Who's your roommate?" Maybe it will be somebody who is accepting of us. Somebody that we can trust with our secret, or who won't raise their eyebrows at him not showing up at night.
But Evan winces. "Alexandre."
Well, fuck. That's about the worst case scenario possible. Alexandre and I haven't talked since the incident, and I’m sure both of us are happy to keep it that way. "Shit."
"I know. For all the reasons. He's a terrible roommate."
"I bet." But it sparks the beginning of an idea. "What if you complained about him, asked if you could move to another room?"
A sudden bump on the wall to the other side of us makes me jump and Evan’s eyes go big.
I let him go, peeking around the corner to see who caused it.
Nobody. There is a heating unit, though.
My furnace makes weird bumps, so why wouldn't this thing?
We're both being paranoid, with all this sneaking around.
So I go back into Evan’s arms, where he continues the conversation seamlessly, trusting my lookout skills.
"And oh so conveniently end up in yours?" He shakes his head. "That would be amazing, but there's no way."
I stick my tongue out at him, because maturity is not on my list of qualities when I'm with Evan. "Fine, I'll think about it. There's got to be a way to get you to my room."
"And here I thought you always needed a solo room." He leans in to kiss me again, softly, sweetly. How is it that Evan always knows the best way to kiss me? The precise mood I'm in, even when I can't figure it out. Even when it drives me crazy.
He's known what I needed since day one, and he's always made it happen. We've both done research into BDSM, spent some time talking about limits. We haven't done anything hardcore, and I don't think we will, but within our boundaries, Evan can play me like a fiddle.
Who knew I'd find such constant satisfaction from someone who can? That I'd want to be played? Me, the absolute control freak, loves nothing better than letting him take all the reins.
His mouth is back on mine, a whisper of pressure. "Stefan." My name is a murmur, directly onto my lips.
I blink back into the moment. "What?"
"There you are."
I'm sure I'm flushing violently. Even after months, when Evan catches me fantasizing about him, it's embarrassing. I might as well be a teenage girl with a crush, every time I think of him. "Oh, shut up."
A smile, and his mouth brushes mine. "I think both of us need to go to bed, baby. We can work on figuring this out in the morning."
"Meet for breakfast at eight?"
"Right here, eight a.m. sharp," he agrees. "But Stefan, you've got to be more circumspect. If we decide to come out, that's fine, but I don't want it to be by accident. Both of us already have enough skeletons in our closet."
I still haven't learned what his skeletons are.
He refers to them, others mention them, but he's never talked to me about it.
I could look it up, maybe he even expects that I have, but I'm not going to.
Not unless he tells me to. He's entitled to his history and privacy, even if the world doesn't think so.
"I know, I'm sorry." I wrap him up in another hug because I can, because this is our one stolen moment of privacy for the night.
"But everyone knows we're friends. So hanging out won't be weird.
" Dozens of pictures of the two of us together are on the internet, and we’ve played along with it, #bff-ing our way through social media.
He runs a light hand over my cheek and into my hair. Where it suddenly tightens. I can't stop the groan when he pulls my head back sharply. Instantly falling into submission mode, instantly wanting him desperately. "Fuck, Evan," I whisper, sounding ragged even to my own ears.
His mouth meets the curve where my neck and my shoulder join. a place that he unerringly hones in on, once he realized how much it affects me. He nips it softly, then harder. And I'm a puddle. Nothing but a pool of need.
Another soft bang from the heater on the other side of the wall, but I barely notice through the blood rushing south.
Then Evan lets go as abruptly as he grabbed me. "See you in the morning, baby." And asshole that he is, he leaves me standing, wide-eyed, unable to muster a response.
At around midnight, my phone alerts me to a text from Evan. Of course. Just when I was starting to recover from the way he left me. He couldn't let me sleep without thinking about him constantly, now could he?
Evan
Did you know that Alexandre is the absolute worst?
Of course I know that. He's convinced we're sworn enemies.
Me
I am aware of that fact
You're kind of the worst too, though, you know. I was almost asleep
In a very different way. The worst best thing that's ever happened to me. And I still haven't figured out how to get him in my room.
Evan
He keeps asking me where I went, what I was doing. Like he’s my chaperone or something. It’s so annoying.
Evan doesn't usually ignore my need for things like sleep. Which means that he's really annoyed with Alexandre.
Me
Maybe he’s in love with you
After all, how could anyone not be infatuated with Evan? Even when he’s the worst.
Me
You seriously have the worst timing. I’d finally lost my fucking hard-on
Evan
Still thinking about me, baby?
Me
I’m always thinking about you
It’s sad how true that is.
Evan
Goes both ways.
Sleep tight, baby.
Fuck. He is going to be the death of me. I don't bother to respond. Just set my phone down and roll over.
Sleep takes forever to come, but morning arrives. And the moment that I remember I get to spend the day with Evan Marquez, my smile can’t be contained.
This is going to be the best day. Nothing and nobody can stop me.