Chapter 6
MADARS
The chocolate museum was amazing, as were the churches we checked out, though none were quite as interesting as the Sedlec Ossuary. A church full of artistically arranged bones was bound to be a tough act to follow.
After a light dinner at a small café, we headed back toward Prague.
This morning’s drive to Kutná Hora had been fun because it was an hour of chirping with my teammates.
Even before we’d gotten in the car, I was laughing my ass off, and that had continued all the way to the church.
All the way through the gates, while Jean-Pierre was still insisting that the church wouldn’t really be full of bones.
No matter how many photos we’d shown him, he’d insisted they were all AI or Photoshopped.
It was more than a little satisfying the way he shut the fuck up when he saw the first bones with his own eyes.
He wasn’t going to hear the end of that any time soon, that was for sure.
So yeah, that trip was a blast.
The journey back to Prague, however, was a million times better. Quieter, sure, but I didn’t mind at all. We talked hockey, because of course we did. Mostly, though, we reminisced about the time I’d lived with his family.
“I don’t know how we didn’t drive your mom crazy,” I said with a laugh as Connor drove us through the countryside.
He chuckled. “Eh, she married a hockey player, and her son’s a hockey player.” He shrugged. “She knew what she was getting into, letting another one in the house. And it wasn’t like you were the first or last to billet with us.”
“Okay, true,” I said, even as the most ridiculous spike of jealousy tried to cut through my good mood. Had the player who’d come after me found out what Connor’s kiss tasted like?
Probably not, since the odds of the next player being gay were slim to none. And also Connor had left for university not long after I’d been drafted.
Did that stop me from being a complete dumbass who was jealous of ghosts? No, it did not.
I cleared my throat, hoping the heat in my face wasn’t giving me away. “Oh, remember that time we convinced your brother that Final Destination 2 was a comedy?”
His laughter did nothing to bring my body temperature down. He smacked his palm on the wheel. “Oh, man. Michael was so fucking pissed about that. And he still hasn’t completely forgiven me for it, either.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Every time we’re on the road and he sees a logging truck, he just starts muttering, ‘You’re such a dick, you know that?’”
I snorted. “So he has the same generational trauma we all do about logging trucks.”
“Yeah, but he blames me specifically. And probably you, too.”
“Eh, we just taught him to leave a safe distance between himself and a logging truck. That’s important information to have. Lifesaving, even!”
“Uh-huh.” Connor shot me a look. “I’ll let you tell him that and we’ll see how it goes. Then maybe he can send you toy logging trucks covered in fake blood for your birthday every year.”
I just laughed as we continued toward Prague.
Those were some great times in my life, both playing in major juniors and living with the Ellis family, not to mention behind closed doors with Connor.
Reminiscing about it now while I sat beside him was doing nothing to quell my restlessness.
Or the impulse to reach across the console and touch him.
Not grope him or anything—just touch him.
Feel him. Feel the man I’d spent half of last night fantasizing about.
We danced around the steamier moments as we talked.
As we laughed about playing hockey with his dad and brother, or the times we’d watched each other’s games, or some of the pranks we’d pulled, we didn’t mention making out in the rec room when no one else was home.
Or helping each other “study.” Or how we’d both greased our bedroom door hinges to keep them silent, and how we knew exactly where to step so the floorboards in the hall didn’t squeak.
Or how it all started that night in the hot tub when he’d finally worked up the courage to break the weekslong standoff and kiss me.
I hadn’t thought about any of that in a long time, but I was sure thinking about it now. It was all innocent kid stuff, but…
God, now that I was sitting beside the grownup version of him…
I really hoped my roommate was out when I got back to the hotel, because I was definitely going to need a few minutes alone. Good thing the weather was cold enough to warrant a zipped-up jacket. The last thing I needed was a camera catching me and my rogue hard-on.
As Connor wound through Prague toward our hotels, traffic was a little more dense than before, which brought me back into reality.
“You know, there was a ton of traffic in front of my hotel this morning,” I said. “And it’s probably going to get worse because a lot of teams are arriving today. So it might be stacked when we get there.”
Connor pursed his lips. “Well, I can park in the garage at my hotel and just walk over with you.”
I studied him in the afternoon light. “You don’t have to walk me back,” I said, even as I chastised myself because, hello, why wouldn’t I want to spend more time with him?
“I don’t have to.” He glanced at me and smiled.
“But I don’t get to see you often. It’s been almost a decade, and now…
I mean, we won’t get to see much of each other after the Games start up.
” He half-shrugged. “I don’t mind walking if it means a little more time. ” He winced. “Does that sound stupid?”
Shaking my head, I whispered, “No. Not at all.”
He exhaled, the relief unmistakable.
It didn’t sound stupid. If anything, I was blown away that he wanted to spend more time with me. Especially when that meant walking through blustery wind and falling snow.
But I didn’t mention that.
A few minutes later, Connor drove us into the parking garage beneath his hotel. He pulled into a vacant space and shut off the engine, and my pulse kicked up a notch.
He was right—once the Games kicked off, hell, even once practices started—we weren’t going to see much of each other. And after the Games ended, God only knew when we’d be on the same continent again, never mind in the same city.
That thought made me restless. It was that same restlessness I’d had on the way out of the restaurant last night, and it had been bubbling beneath the surface all day today. Now that we were on the verge of moving in separate directions…
“Wait.”
Connor froze, hand still on his seat belt buckle. “Hmm?”
“Just, uh…” I swallowed, unable to hold his gaze. “Before… Before we go…”
He watched me silently. Then he unbuckled his seat belt but didn’t reach for the door. “What’s on your mind?”
“I, uh…” I stared out the windshield as if the concrete wall might offer up some kind of wisdom.
Or words. Or courage. “Look, last night, when we were talking…” I scratched the back of my neck just to stave off some of this restlessness.
“You didn’t mention… You didn’t say anything about… ” Fuck, why couldn’t I talk?
“About what?” he prodded gently.
I took a deep breath. Then I made myself turn to him, and oh God, those beautiful eyes made my brain go blank. “When I asked what you’re doing these days—you didn’t mention, like, a partner. A boyfriend.”
Connor stiffened. “Oh. Uh.” A blush rose in the fair skin of his cheeks, and it was his turned to stare at the concrete wall.
“I don’t have one. Haven’t for a while.” He laughed with sudden nerves and ran a hand through his short hair.
“The job doesn’t really lend itself to…” He trailed off as if he didn’t know how to finish that.
I swept my tongue across my lips, and my voice came out so quiet I barely heard it over my own pounding heart. “Same. I had—there was a guy for a while, but…” I shook my head.
Connor looked at me then, curiosity etched all over his face. Curiosity and… was that interest?
Please, please, let it be interest…
I took a breath. “Look, everything we did before—we were just kids and all. But I…”
He chewed his lower lip, drawing my attention to his mouth, and my thoughts once again abandoned me.
“It was a long time ago,” he whispered.
“It was. But we’re…” I met his gaze. My thoughts were clear as day now, but could I put them into words? Articulate them in any of the languages I knew, least of all the only one we shared? No. Not even a little.
Connor shifted in his seat. He sat up, and I realized as he settled again that he’d leaned in slightly, coming just a few millimeters closer.
“It was a long time ago,” he said again, “but it’s always been a good memory.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. It has.”
Our eyes locked. I wondered if his heart was thundering like mine was. Or if he was struggling as hard as I was to find any air in this narrow—and narrowing—space between us.
His hand materialized on my cheek, and my eyelids fluttered shut. The warmth of his touch raised goose bumps up and down my spine. The fact that he was touching me at all lodged the breath in my throat. Fuck…
“Madars,” he breathed.
I opened my eyes and found myself gazing right into his. The boy who’d been my first crush had grown into this gorgeous man. In that moment, he was looking at me like he simultaneously wanted to eat me alive and couldn’t find the courage to cross this last bit of distance.
I mirrored him and touched his face, and I reveled in the shuddering breath that escaped his lips. I needed more, though, and I slid my hand up into his hair, drawing us together, and—
The whole world just…
Stilled.
Stopped.
Vanished except for the soft, warm contact of Connor’s lips against mine.
For a few seconds, we were back in his family’s hot tub, a couple of shy kids tentatively crossing lines for the very first time. Uncertain. Clueless. Cautiously testing the water to see what happened next.
But then Connor’s hand moved to the back of my neck, and his soft touch turned to a firm grip in the same moment he deepened the kiss.
His tongue slipped past my lips, and we weren’t those shy kids anymore.
We were two grown men who’d tasted enough to know what we wanted, and suddenly we were kissing with the kind of barely restrained hunger that rarely ended without orgasms.
And holy fuck, this man was an amazing kisser. He was aggressive in a way that took me by surprise and almost had me coming in my pants. The way he held onto my neck and explored my mouth, the hungry little moans—God, more.
He was the one who decided when we came up for air, and I was trembling when he did.
“Jesus,” I panted.
Connor laughed breathlessly. “Something like that.” His hand tightened on the back of my neck, and I swear he breathed me into another kiss. Only for a moment, though, before he broke away and murmured, “You know, instead of walking you back to your hotel, we’re already at my hotel.”
I drew back and looked in his eyes. “Is that an invitation?”
He swept his tongue across his lips. “That’s probably a more dignified way of saying ‘I’m this close to begging you to come upstairs.’”
I couldn’t help groaning as I pulled him back in, and his kiss underscored just how close he was to begging. He was greedy and trembling, and if he asked me to, I’d blow him right here in the car.
Except… maybe not in a parking garage with my Team Latvia jacket on full display.
I broke away this time and whispered, “Upstairs?”
Connor grinned. “Upstairs.”