Chapter 17
MADARS
Standing outside baggage claim at the Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport, I was as restless as I’d been those nights in the Ellis house when I was a teenager.
When I was listening to the house wind down, waiting for the last of the lights to go out, and then either stealthily making my way across the hall or listening for the faint sound of Connor coming into my room.
Or when we were slipping off from our hotels in Prague for whatever time together our frenetic schedules allowed.
This time, though, we weren’t sneaking into a bedroom to make out for a little while or ducking into an alley for a hot kiss.
We were adults, and there was no international hockey competition going on.
Connor was arriving in broad daylight, and we had the next few weeks to ourselves to do a whole lot more than make out.
I couldn’t wait for that part, but also just having him here.
With me. The constant texting and FaceTiming just hadn’t been enough.
He hadn’t been part of my life since major juniors, but from the moment we’d reconnected, it was like he’d become a fixture in my world.
He’d kept me sane through the surgery and rehab, and he’d been a bright spot when everything around my career seemed so bleak.
At the same time, the last few months of only being able to connect electronically had been driving me out of my mind.
And today…
Finally…
There.
The frosted glass automatic doors opened, and there he was, walking out with a backpack over his shoulder and a pair of suitcases rolling behind him. His red hair was a little longer now, just starting to curl above his collar, and that tired, sweet smile almost made me swoon.
Oh my God. You’re here. You’re really here.
He really was, and no matter how tempting it was to finally have that kiss I’d been craving, I just pulled him into a hug instead.
As queer-friendly as Spain was, and even after I’d watched two men share a kiss here just twenty minutes ago, I still hesitated to be publicly affectionate with a man. Old habits and all that.
Holding him closer, I whispered, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He stroked a hand over my hair, and as he drew back, he added, “I’m probably going to pass out when we get to the hotel.”
“That’s okay. It’s not far from here.” I gestured at his rolling suitcases. “Let me take those.”
Connor hesitated. “Is your knee—”
“They’re rolling bags.” I nudged his hand off the handle of one, then the other. “My knee is fine.” As we started walking, I added, “I’ve been skating for weeks now. I can handle dragging a couple of bags.”
“I mean, if you insist.” He gestured at the backpack strap. “Want to carry this one too?”
“You want me to?”
“No, no.” He laughed. “I’m joking. Though…” He gestured at the suitcases. “I feel like I overpacked. I never travel with this much.”
“But you brought your gear, right? That takes up a lot of space.”
“True. I think most of that one”—he nodded toward the bigger of the two bags—“is hockey gear.”
“See? So you didn’t overpack. And you can borrow my sticks.”
He turned a tired but playful smirk on me.
I rolled my eyes and elbowed him. “Come on.” I nodded toward the doors leading out to the taxi stands. “We’ll get a cab back to the hotel.”
“Will there be enough room for all this?”
“Of course.”
He nodded, apparently taking my word for it. “You rented a car, though, didn’t you? Or did you just not want to drive to the airport?” He grimaced. “I wouldn’t blame you for that.”
“The car is back at the train station in Sevilla. We’re staying at a hotel here in Madrid tonight, and we’ll take the train to Sevilla tomorrow.”
Connor nodded again, but his brow furrowed slightly. “Wasn’t there a flight from here to where we’re staying, though? That would’ve made things easier for you, wouldn’t it?”
“There is a flight.” I arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to go through security and all that bullshit again, just to be crammed onto a plane for an hour?”
Connor wrinkled his nose.
“That’s what I thought.” I patted his shoulder. “The train is longer, but it’s a nice ride. And you can relax tonight.”
He exhaled, his shoulders sinking, and that was when the fatigue seriously started to shine through. “I really am going to pass out as soon as we get to the hotel. I know I should try to stay awake, but…”
“One day of sleeping won’t kill you. Let’s go.”
We headed out to the taxi stand, and in no time, we were settled into the back of a cab. My Spanish wasn’t great, but it was passable enough to communicate the name of our hotel.
As the driver pulled away from the airport, I turned to Connor, pausing for a moment just to drink in the sight of him. Even tired and rumpled from a long flight, he was absolutely gorgeous.
And he was here. Here with me. We had weeks to do nothing but be together without hiding, without sneaking around, and without worrying about anything. It barely felt real.
“How was your flight?” I asked.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed back against the headrest. “Ugh. It felt like Purgatory.”
“Really?” I suppressed a smirk. “It’s only a couple of hours to Madrid.”
“From Genève!” Connor rolled his eyes and shoved me playfully. “Some of us had to come from Canada.”
“That just sounds like poor planning on your end.”
He snorted and gave me the finger. “Jackass.”
I just chuckled, then took his hand. That felt so damn good. All of this felt so damn good. And to think, just a few months earlier, I’d barely thought about the kid who’d lived across the hall from me for two years.
Since Prague, I hadn’t gone a day—hell, an hour—without thinking about him.
And now, for the next few weeks…
Here he was.
Our hotel was about fifteen minutes from the airport. It was a huge conference hotel, and it was bustling with people here for—I thought—two separate conferences.
I’d already checked us in, though, so we just had to get past the crowd and into an elevator, and then it was up to our room.
“Holy shit,” Connor said when I opened the door. “It’s pitch black!”
“Siesta shades,” I said just before I turned on the light. “Better than any blackout curtains.”
“Nice.”
“The villa has them, too. They’re really nice for days when we go to bed before the sun goes down.”
He eyed me. “Are we going to bed that early? Or, well, going to sleep?” He slid his hands up my chest. “Because I don’t think I’ll mind the sunlight too much if we’re not sleeping.”
I chuckled and kissed him lightly. “The sun doesn’t go down until late in the evening. Like ten or so.”
“Sounds good to me. And it’ll be nice for a nap at… what time is it right now?”
“A little after one.”
Connor made a face and groaned. “Oh my God. My body clock is so fucked.”
“You didn’t sleep on the plane?”
“I tried, but…” He met my gaze, his expression a little sheepish with a hint of something spicier around the edges. “Couldn’t really sleep when I was thinking about everything I wanted to do once I got here.” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “So of course now I’m too tired to do those things.”
Laughing, I cupped his face, drew him in, and kissed his forehead. “We have nothing but time. Sleep now. We’ll catch up on everything else.”
“Okay.” He tugged at his shirt and made a face. “First things first, I desperately need a shower.”
“Well, lucky for you,” I said, gesturing grandly toward the bathroom door, “I got us a hotel room that includes one.”
He snorted. “Ooh, really springing for something high-end, eh?”
“Nothing but the best.”
He just laughed, pushed himself up, and dusted a quick kiss across my lips. “I want to do more than that, but…” He grimaced. “At least let me brush my teeth first.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He flashed me a smile. Then, after we’d arranged his suitcases by the wall, he dug out his toiletry kit and a change of clothes.
As he disappeared into the bathroom, I debated joining him, but didn’t.
The shower was very small, and anyway, I didn’t want him to feel pressure.
If I got in there naked with him, I’d be hard.
I wouldn’t want to keep my hands off him.
As much as I wanted us to start making up for all the time we’d been apart, I wasn’t about to push him.
And having made those long flights across oceans and multiple time zones before, I knew exactly how gross and miserable he was feeling.
Sex was probably the last thing on his mind.
We’d get there.
Lying back on the bed we’d be sharing tonight, I closed my eyes and smiled to myself.
Oh, we’d definitely get there. I didn’t even know where I wanted to start.
If I wanted to make out while we jerked each other off.
Maybe blow him until he came so hard he cried.
Fuck him into the mattress. Have him fuck me into the mattress.
I shivered, squirming on the broad bed. So much to do. So much time. All with the man currently showering on the other side of this wall.
My phone pinged, jarring me out of my daydream. My first thought was that it was Connor, except—well, it obviously wasn’t.
When I looked at the screen—my agent.
Kirils
Hey Mads, Genève is working on their extension offer. Zurich is interested in you too. Any thoughts?
I pursed my lips as I stared at the message. Zurich was a solid team. They’d been contenders in the postseason for most of a decade, and one of my old teammates from Genève played for them. I needed to text him and ask him his thoughts before I signed anything, but for the moment…
Zurich is a good team. What about Lausanne?
I don’t know if they have the budget for you. Not after they re-signed their whole top six.
I’d take a pay cut to play for them.
I’ll keep that in mind, but we’re not going to lead with it.
Understood.
No noise from Vancouver?
Nothing. They’re all focused on the draft and re-signing right now. When free agency starts, I’ll keep you posted.
But, Mads, we have to be realistic about this.