6. Chapter 6 #3
He’d gotten past the point of denying, even to himself, that the shape of these wants in Hank’s middle—elbowing out all the space he needed for his vital organs—was sexual desire.
He was way less sure about what he should do about it, and not necessarily because he thought Ethan would push him away.
“Right,” Ethan said, pulling back. Hank swore the brief look Ethan shot him was full of heat.
Yeah, the mutual part of this was not the issue.
It was the timing and the situation and how this was supposed to be the culmination of all of Hank’s plans and efforts. In hockey. Not whatever this thing was becoming with Ethan.
“Anyway, you should come to my room,” Ethan continued.
“What if Charlie comes back?”
Ethan elbowed him in the side. “Don’t be stupid. Charlie likes you.”
Charlie liked him, possibly, on his hockey team. Charlie would probably not like him sniffing around his youngest brother, especially not right now.
He’d tell them both to focus.
And goddamn it, Hank was trying.
“I just . . .” Ethan sighed. “I’m kinda freaking out, and I feel like what Charlie said is freaking me out more.”
What else was he supposed to do when Ethan shot those big sad blue eyes in his direction?
When Ethan wanted—when he needed—Hank? So many people had told him through the years that he was one of the toughest, most disciplined players they’d ever met, but in the face of all that? Well, Hank was only human.
“I got you,” Hank promised. “Give me a second.”
He ducked back into the room. Bo was waist-deep in a guided meditation, following the soothing voice of the woman telling him to dip the tips of his fingers into the pond, so Hank didn’t bother him.
Instead he grabbed his phone and his keycard, yanked on a sweatshirt and slid his feet into a pair of slides and headed back out.
Ethan lifted his head as Hank closed the door behind him.
“You put a sweatshirt on,” Ethan observed, mouth quirking into a pout.
Never mind how hard it was to continue to do nothing about the heat that kept blooming between them when Ethan said shit like that.
“It’s . . . um . . . cold in here.” Hank stumbled over the excuse.
What he hadn’t needed to do was get cozy in Ethan’s hotel room and be shirtless. Ethan’s gaze sweeping over him, heating him up from the inside out.
“Sure,” Ethan retorted impudently.
Warmer and safer, Hank didn’t say.
Ethan and Charlie’s room was just down the hallway. Ethan shoved his card onto the reader and pushed the door open.
Charlie’s side of the room was easily identifiable. It had to be the one with the suitcase neatly open on the floor, a handful of packing cubes visible.
In comparison to the other suitcase, at the foot of the second bed, which looked like it had actually exploded, clothes hanging half in, half out. No packing cubes to be seen anywhere.
But then to Hank’s surprise, Ethan went and collapsed on the bed next to the neat suitcase. At Hank’s shocked expression, Ethan just laughed.
“Yeah, nobody ever believes me when I tell them Charlie’s a fucking travel slob, either.”
“A study in contrasts, I guess,” Hank said. He gingerly took a seat on the foot of Ethan’s bed, because while sitting there felt like a bad idea, sitting on Barney’s bed felt like a step too far.
“You’re telling me,” Ethan complained.
For a second, they didn’t say anything. Ethan slid a little closer. Their thighs weren’t quite touching, but Hank could imagine how warm the thick fabric of Ethan’s sweatpants would be. Leaking right through his own, worming its way into his own skin. He swallowed hard.
Ethan’s eyes were so blue, gazing at him. Curls rumpled. He licked his bottom lip. And suddenly Hank wondered if Eth had an ulterior motive that wasn’t reassuring him before his first NHL game.
But no. No.
Hank dragged his brain—and his dick—back to a safer topic. “So what did Charlie say?”
That broke the tension, at least, and Ethan rolled his eyes. “He’s so . . . ugh.”
“You could’ve called Avery,” Hank suggested.
He still couldn’t quite believe that Ethan had sought him out. Sure, he’d also played in plenty of NHL games, but he wasn’t Ethan’s brothers.
“Oh sure, yeah, I could’ve,” Ethan said dryly.
“And then when he accidentally lets it drop a month later to Charlie that I had to call him after Charlie’s very impassioned, very practiced pep talk?
Yeah, no thanks. Plus, it’s not like Avery wouldn’t be giving me practically a copy of the same thing.
About this kind of stuff, they’re sort of painfully aligned. ”
“Ah.” Hank didn’t know what to say. And making it tougher was that he didn’t know what Charlie had said that was so unhelpful. Though he supposed, in the end, he could guess.
Also, he could say the stuff that he wished someone had said to him before his first game.
“It’s okay to be terrified, you know,” Hank said.
Ethan barked out a laugh. “Yeah?”
“I’d bet that Charlie didn’t say that,” Hank said, amused.
“You’d be right. It was a whole lot of it’s just like another game. And, if you focus, you’ll be just fine. That kind of bullshit.”
“It’s not just like another game,” Hank confessed. “But the focus thing? He’s not wrong, there.”
“Well, I didn’t think he’d be one hundred percent full of bullshit,” Ethan said, voice wry.
“You are gonna be fine, but it’s also fair to be terrified.”
“Were you?”
Hank had a feeling Ethan already knew the answer to this question, but he’d asked it anyway. It was hard to say why, but Hank found himself wanting to know anyway.
Ethan wasn’t really a closed book, but Hank still wanted to know him anyway.
“Fucking scared as shit,” Hank confessed. “Went and puked in the bathroom between the warmup and puck drop.”
Ethan smiled. “Cute.”
It was probably supposed to be sarcasm, but it came out affectionate, instead.
“Yeah, well, it turned out okay.” Just okay, though, because it wasn’t like anything he’d done had meant he’d made it yet.
Yet.
“Better than okay,” Ethan said warmly. He reached over and put his hand on Hank’s knee. Hank thought he was just going to squeeze it, a reassuring gesture, and he did, but then he didn’t move it, either.
“You’re gonna be the same,” Hank said, swallowing hard. “Better than okay. Even if you puke after warmups.”
“I’ll just make sure to do it off the ice,” Ethan teased lightly.