Chapter 18
CONNOR
I awoke to pitch black, and for a moment, I was completely disoriented. Was it nighttime? How late had I slept?
But then I remembered the blackout curtains or whatever. Siesta shades? Was that what Madars had called them? And he’d… gone down to the bar, right? Christ, how many hours had he been down there while I lapsed into a coma up here?
Well. That wasn’t too bad. I’d slept for a couple of hours, but I hadn’t slept the whole damn day.
I could’ve easily passed out again, but that would screw up my body clock worse than I already had, so I turned on a light.
After a moment of squinting, blinking, and cursing, my eyes adjusted.
I hauled my tired carcass upright, went into the bathroom to take a leak, then splashed some cold water on my face.
That helped. Some coffee would help even more.
I got dressed, made sure I had my room key and wallet, and then wandered out into the hallway. I genuinely had no memory of how far we’d walked from the elevator to our room, and I had a flicker of worry that this would be one of those maze-like hotels without clear signs.
Not to worry—the elevator was three doors down and very well marked. I was just stupid with jetlag.
In the elevator, I found the button for the mezzanine, which was apparently where the bar was. And when I walked into the bar…
Ah. There.
Madars was sitting back in a chair, an empty glass sitting beside his phone as he gazed up at one of the TVs. There was a soccer game on, so I wasn’t surprised it held his focus. Soccer had always bored me to tears, but he’d loved it.
“How can you stand soccer?” I’d asked once when we were teenagers. “It’s so slow and boring compared to hockey.”
“Says the guy who likes baseball.”
“Hey. Baseball is awesome.”
He’d rolled his eyes. “Maybe after the game is over and you can watch the recording on fast-forward. It’s so slow.”
“Pfft. Philistine.”
He’d called me something Latvian. I couldn’t remember what it was and probably hadn’t even understood it at the time. But we’d devolved into laughing and elbowing each other, which had further devolved into—well, it had gone the way things had usually gone when we’d been home alone.
In the present, I crossed the room to where he was sitting, and when I was a few feet away, he turned.
Oh, the way his eyes lit up…
No man had ever looked at me like that. Ever. That it was Madars looking at me like that?
Was I sure I was awake and not still dreaming upstairs?
“Hey.” He got up and stole a quick peck to my cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like the dead.” I smiled as we both sat down at the small table. “I’ll probably still be able to sleep tonight, too.”
“That’s good.” He gestured with his empty glass. “Do you want something to drink?”
I looked toward the bar. “They don’t serve coffee here, do they?”
“I’ve seen a few people drinking it, so either they do or they can get it from the coffee shop.” Madars raised his eyebrows. “Need some caffeine?”
“Ideally injected straight into my veins, but the drinkable variety will do.”
He laughed, unaware of what that did to my ridiculous, fluttery heart.
“I don’t think they have that at this hotel chain, but we can get you a cup.
” He looked past me and gestured at someone.
A second later, a server appeared beside the table and asked something in rapid-fire Spanish.
Though I knew a little, and I’d brushed up before coming here, my jetlagged brain went blank.
Madars, however, didn’t have that problem. From what I could parse, he ordered me a cup of coffee and himself another glass of wine.
In English, he asked me, “Do you want anything to eat? Or just coffee?”
“Just coffee for now.”
He relayed that to the server, and then we were alone again.
“We can do room service for dinner if you want,” he said. “The restaurant opens at eight, but there’s a conference happening in the hotel, so it could get crowded.”
“Eight?” I made a face. “I’ll be lucky if I’m awake by eight.”
He shrugged. “Spanish dinner hours. That’s why I suggested room service.”
“Probably a good idea. I’m not all that hungry right now. The food on the plane was decent. Just need some coffee.”
His smile did more for me than that coffee probably would. “Lucky for you, they’ve got good coffee here. And there’s a place near our villa…” He touched his chest and made a happy sound that was almost obscene. “Their coffee is incredible.”
I cocked a brow. “Well, that’s quite the endorsement. You’ll have to take me there.”
“I will. I promise. The pastries are amazing, too.”
“Ooh, pastries? Good thing we’ll be skating while I’m here.”
“I know, right?” Madars chuckled. “The villa has a home gym, too. Without that…” He grimaced.
I grinned. “So, a gym where I can shamelessly ogle you while you work out and not worry about anyone catching me drooling? Sign me up.”
He returned the grin and bumped his shoe against mine. “Just like old times, isn’t it?”
“Except the part about not worrying about someone catching me drooling.”
“You didn’t have to worry about it in your dad’s gym either.” Madars swept his tongue across his lips. “Why do you think I always worked out when your parents weren’t home?”
“Oh, really?”
He just grinned and shrugged.
I rolled my eyes and laughed, and now that he mentioned it, he had done most of his at-home workouts while my parents were out.
I’d thought at one time that it was because my dad annoyed him like he annoyed me.
After all, Dad became Mr. Personal Trainer to anyone who walked into his gym, and he would also nag, nag, nag about “remember to wipe down the equipment when you’re done” even though we were all meticulous about it.
It had never crossed my mind that Madars had other ulterior motives for waiting until my parents were out.
Our drinks arrived, and Madars was right—the coffee was really good.
I drank so much hotel coffee while traveling for games, and some of it was barely fit for human consumption.
Watery. Burnt. Weird flavors that probably shouldn’t have been there.
I often added a lot of cream and sugar just to mask the appalling taste of the coffee itself.
This place? Oh, yeah, this was good. It didn’t even need more than a tiny dusting of sugar and a little cream, and it was perfect. Strong as hell, too, though I doubted there was a substance on the planet that could completely crack through this fatigue.
I took an appreciative sip and met his eyes across the table. “And you said the place by the villa is even better?”
Grinning, he nodded. “Yep.”
“Well. Challenge accepted.” I put the cup down. “When are we leaving for Sevilla, anyway?”
“When you feel up to it.” He shrugged. “I haven’t bought train tickets yet, and I got this room for two more nights in case you need some more time to adjust.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll need that much time.” I sipped my coffee again. “How long is the train ride?”
“About three hours.”
I exhaled. The thought of sitting for another hours-long ride to anywhere made me even more tired.
Madars put a hand on my forearm and smiled. “When you feel up to it. We can stay in Madrid for a few days. We can leave tomorrow.” He shrugged. “I’m in no rush.”
“I appreciate that. I think I’d like to go tomorrow, though. I’m sick of traveling, but I just want to get there.” I grinned. “And I want to finally see this villa you keep talking about.”
He laughed, a mischievous sparkle glinting in his eyes. “I already showed you the important part.”
Rolling my eyes, I nudged his leg under the table with my foot. “Yes, those photos you sent of the bedroom ceiling were spectacular.”
With an innocent shrug, he said, “I mean, that’s the part you’ll be looking at the most, so…”
“Oh my God,” I said with a laugh, and he chuckled too.
“You’ll see it all when we get there. I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise with photos.”
I peered suspiciously at him. “See, now I’m afraid you’ve put clown statues or something around corners.”
“Ooh, I hadn’t even thought of that.” He thumped his knuckle on the table. “Damn it.”
“Ass,” I muttered. “You do not want to start a prank war with me. It didn’t end well last time, and it won’t end well this time.”
He met me with a challenging look, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I don’t know. I’ve had another decade of experience living around hockey players. I think my prank prowess is a lot better now than it was when I was a teenager.”
“Mmhmm. So is mine.” I bumped his foot. “You don’t think refs prank each other?”
“I didn’t think refs had a sense of humor.” He picked up his wineglass. “They all seem like stuffy, humorless androids who live to kill joy and fun.”
I flipped him off, and he snickered. Tsking, I reached for my coffee again. “You’re such a dick.”
“You love it.”
“Uh-huh. Just like I love being a stuffy, humorless android who lives to kill joy and fun.”
“See? You admit it?”
“Fuck you.” We exchanged playful glares, then laughed.
“Anyway,” he said. “We’ll relax today. Have dinner. Then tomorrow or the next day—whenever you’re ready—we’re off to Sevilla.”
“Perfect. It’ll be nice to settle in.” I winked. “And, you know, get reacquainted.”
He bit his lip and squirmed, and I might’ve liked that a little too much. “We’re going to have a ton of time to get reacquainted.”
“Mmhmm. We are.” I sipped my coffee. “And your knee is really doing better? Or do I need to be on top?”
Madars shifted in his chair. “You can be on top all you want. Be my guest. But yes…” He flexed and straightened his leg beside the table as if to demonstrate.
“Like I said, I’ve been skating for weeks.
It still aches sometimes, but I’ll be able to start practices with my team like normal.
Which means I won’t have any trouble keeping up with you. ”
Fucking hell. Why did I have to be too tired to function today? Because I wanted this man so damn bad.
For a fleeting second, I considered suggesting we mess around tonight anyway, but I let that thought go. I wanted to be well-rested and fully present; going through the motions of sex when I was this tired would not be nearly as enjoyable as I wanted it to be.
One more night. One more goddamned night, and when we got to our villa tomorrow, we were putting the furniture to the test.
“Connor?” Madars tilted his head, eying me curiously. “You’re blushing.”
“Am I? I, uh…” I cleared my throat as I shifted in my chair. “Just… thinking about all the ways I’m going to help you keep up your leg strength this summer.”
It was his turn to shiver. Fuuuck, I wanted him. And from the hunger smoldering in his eyes…
“Good thing I brought plenty of lube,” he whispered. “Pretty sure we’ll need it.”
“Mmhmm. We will.” I grimaced. “I wish I could say we’d need it tonight, but I’m—”
“Connor.” He shook his head as he covered my hand with his beside my coffee cup. “We have most of the summer. I know how miserable it is to be that jetlagged.” He smiled sweetly. “I can wait. I promise.”
“I know. I’m just not sure I can.”
He chuckled and patted my hand, then went for his wine again. “Well, if you feel feisty on the train tomorrow…”
I snorted. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Madars just laughed.
And jetlag be damned, I was so, so glad I was here.