Chapter Twenty #2
With Finn, I have absolutely no chill. Throwing the phone on my coffee table, I rush for my en-suite bathroom, brush my teeth, and run my fingers through my hair. My expression is slightly panicked but mostly excited.
And when I hear a knocking sound?
The cool player that was me in the past—and I’m not talking about hockey—runs to the front door like a sprinter.
Finn
While I relaxed at Sorensen’s and had fun with the guys, the whole time I was thinking about Sel. Even when I took a break from gaming and texted my family. I should’ve gone back to my place after and texted Sel in the morning.
But I couldn’t. So I didn’t.
Standing outside Sel’s door, I tell myself to calm down, but it’s pointless.
I’m sweating like mad, fidgeting with my clothes, and popping another breath mint.
When I run a shaky hand over my jaw, I realize I’ve got quite the stubble happening.
I hope Sel likes it. I hope he loves it.
Fuck, I’m so gone for him, and I can’t tamp down my emotions.
I rap on the door and wait anxiously for Sel to open it. He greets me wearing a white tee and sweats again, and he’s so gorgeous that I’m without speech. Until I notice his chest moving in and out fast, like he’s out of breath.
“Did I interrupt something?” I ask hesitantly. “I could’ve come later… I mean, stopped by later.”
“No, I was just, uh, busy fixing something in the bathroom, yeah, and I wanted to be sure I didn’t miss you, so I ran for the door.
Which isn’t far and considering how much I work out and all the hockey I play, I shouldn’t be out of breath.
And you probably would’ve stayed and knocked again.
Still, making you wait out here is rude and I—” He pauses, biting his lower lip, shaking his head. “I’ll shut up now.”
Holy shit, Sel’s rambling like me. Is it because of me? Is he nervous too? My heart gives that weird flutter that happens every time I’m around him.
He swallows hard and moves aside to let me in.
“I shouldn’t have had coffee this late at night,” he explains. “Come in.”
Stepping inside, I look around his place, but I don’t smell coffee or see any mugs out either. What I do see is a takeout bag on his kitchen island and an unopened bag of coffee beans.
“You want anything to eat or drink?” he asks, sauntering into the kitchen.
I can’t reply right away because I’m distracted by his ass cheeks flexing in those thin sweats. Fuck, I want to run my hands all over him. We’ve been apart for half a day and I’m so fucking greedy.
“Finn?” he repeats.
“Sorry, uh, I noticed the familiar bag on the counter.”
Sel turns, hands in his pockets, looking tense.
“I had errands to do this aft and I happened to walk by. They didn’t have many pastries left; I’ve got a couple of blueberry Danishes and one croissant.”
“I’ll split a Danish? I ate a lot this evening.”
Sel nods and presses his lips together. “I ran into Makela in the elevator. He took it upon himself to invite me, but like I told you, I had errands.”
“Next time?”
“Maybe.”
I don’t think I can trust my game face anymore.
On the ice is one thing; I’m locked in my zone.
Being with Sel off the ice, however… it’s getting harder to hide how I feel.
Then again, Makela and Sorensen mentioned the strained words I exchanged with Sel at practice.
We were working then, and I worried my expression might give us away.
“Anyway,” he continues as he opens the bag. “I had some business stuff to take care of, walked around, did some window shopping, and then Damien texted. Sorry, I texted him.”
“How is he?”
“Good,” Sel replies, as he opens a cupboard and grabs two plates. “You want coffee too?”
“No thanks. I don’t need it. After beating Makela at Call of Duty, I’m wired. I’ll probably be up most of the night.”
We have a day off tomorrow, so I can sacrifice actual sleep to sleep with Sel. If he wants that. Fuck, I better not be reading him wrong.
When he moves to stand in front of the island, I walk over and sidle up to him, bracing my forearms on the counter and nudging him with my shoulder.
This man smells delicious. I want to eat him, not the damn Danish.
He splits the pastry and offers it to me.
Instead of taking it with my hand, I lean over and steal a bite of flaky goodness while he’s holding it.
I also “accidentally” lick his finger, and the flash of heat in his eyes has me so turned on I almost forget to chew and swallow.
Here comes my flirty side again. If this was me months ago, I’d never have believed it.
“I’m not hungry,” Sel whispers and leans into me, his mouth close to mine. “For pastry.”
I’m tempted to kiss his beautiful lips, and never stop, but I think we need to have a conversation about what’s going on here first. If Sel’s not into me like I’m into him and if he doesn’t want to be exclusive, I gotta be prepared to walk out his door.
The very idea makes me nauseous, but I know who I am, what I feel, and what I want.
“We should probably talk first,” I manage to croak. “Don’t you think?”
He nods, leans back, and lowers his hand to adjust his cock. His dick is bulging under those indecent sweatpants and my eyes can’t help but follow his movements.
“Or maybe talk can wait until later,” I whisper.
No. Bad Finn. Think with your bigger head.
“Compromise,” Sel offers. “We head over to the couch, talk, make out, and talk some more.”
“We could do that in your bed?”
“I won’t be able to have a real conversation if you’re in my bed,” Sel confesses. “Except to moan and say ‘yes’, ‘more’, and ‘don’t stop.’”
“How’s the couch any different?”
He lets out a filthy chuckle and that gorgeous smile, the one that rocks me every time.
“Fair point. Sit wherever you want in the living room, and I’ll pick a place far away from you.” He winks. “But not too far.”
“Too far to touch,” I warn teasingly. “Don’t start playing footsie or rubbing that monster erection to distract me.”
He makes a cross over his heart with his finger, but when he bites his lower lip, I know I’m deep trouble.
I need something innocent to do with my hands, so I grab the Danish and stuff it into my mouth, then head over to the chair in the farthest corner of the room.
Sel settles on the couch so we’re not close enough to touch, but it doesn’t matter.
The vibration between us snaps like wildfire and I can’t sit still.
“Alright,” Sel says as soon as I stop eating. “Us. What’s going on here, where is this going, right?”
I nod.
“I know what I want,” I confess. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“I do.”
I take a deep breath, and even if I’m scared of his reaction, I lean forward and go for it.
“You already know I’m demi, and I don’t do casual. This is more than sex for me. And you and me, I mean, it’s… I feel so—” I pause and lick my lips.
Say it.
“—I can’t stop wanting to be with you, but I want monogamy, and maybe you don’t? Maybe you want to fuck other people while this is going on?”
The very idea makes my stomach roil. Sel stares at me for a long moment and I can’t figure out his expression.
“You know I’ve never experienced anything but casual,” he replies.
My heart sinks, and I look down to find my hands shaking hard.