38. Don’t Hide From Me
DON’T HIDE FROM ME
PARKER
“And Lee, like, actually defended me,” Anders says, sounding genuinely stunned by it. “Do you understand how insane that is? Lee is cold-hearted.”
I laugh quietly, leaning back against the hotel headboard.
It’s late enough that the room has gone almost completely dark around me except for the muted glow of the television. The guys are probably all asleep by now. I should be too. We have an early flight in the morning, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Not when Anders is sprawled across our bed back in D.C., talking to me with that flushed, emotionally exhausted look he gets after a long day.
Our bed.
I love thinking of it as ours. And I love him. So fucking much…
I chuckle. “I fuck with Lee.”
“You’re so fucking goofy.” Anders snorts softly and shifts against the pillows. The camera shakes for a second before settling again. I catch a glimpse of bare thigh and one of my old hockey shirts riding up his stomach before he resettles beneath the blankets.
He told his friends about us tonight, and now he’s lying in my bed like he belongs there, calling me afterward to decompress like this is just what we do now. Like this is normal.
This is normal now.
“I miss you,” I tell him quietly.
His expression softens immediately. I just look at him for a moment after that.
He’s lying half on his side with one arm tucked beneath the pillow, face lit blue from whatever true crime documentary he’s got playing in the background.
I hate when he watches those alone because he always ends up startling himself afterward and then pretends he isn’t scared when he calls me.
The light catches the soft edges of his face beautifully.
Those fucking eyes.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at the world as openly as Anders does. Even now, after everything he’s been through, there’s still something unbearably kind about the way he sees people. The kind of kindness that makes me want to protect him from everything.
“What are you looking at?” he asks softly.
“My gorgeous boyfriend.”
He immediately rolls his eyes, but I catch the smile tugging at his mouth before he ducks his face deeper into the pillow.
“It’s too dark in there,” he mutters. “You look like you’re calling me from a cave.”
“The room has blackout curtains.”
“I need to see you.”
I sigh dramatically and reach over to switch the lamp on beside the bed. Warm light spills across the room immediately. Anders’ face brightens the second he sees me properly. “There’s my Daddy,” he says softly, immediately laughing at himself a second later.
The more he says shit like that, the less it feels like it’s just a bedroom thing. Honestly, I think he just says it to get a reaction out of me.
I shake my head a little, smiling despite myself. “Stay in bed until I get home tomorrow,” I murmur. “I don’t think I’ll sleep right until I’m back in our bed.”
The second the words leave my mouth, Anders stills. “Our bed?” he repeats.
I swallow. No taking it back now. “Our bed,” I say again. “Our room. Our home.”
His eyes flicker instantly. Emotion moves across his face so fast and openly it makes my chest ache. “Pet’ka,” he says weakly. “You can’t just say shit like that so casually.” He laughs once under his breath and wipes quickly beneath one eye before pretending he didn’t.
I love him so much it scares me sometimes.
“I should be home around noon tomorrow,” I tell him quietly.
“Okay, good.” He shifts onto his back. “I have to meet with my creative writing professor for coffee tomorrow morning anyway.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. She emailed me and said it was urgent, which feels threatening.”
“I doubt she’d invite you for coffee to fail you.”
“That’s true.” He pauses. “Unless she’s trying to soften the blow.”
“No. You’re catastrophizing, sweetheart.”
“My generation is very cynical.”
I laugh softly. Then Anders goes quiet. Thinking.
“What?” I ask.
His eyes lift back to mine. “I think we should probably tell our families soon.”
The nervous heat that flashes through my body is immediate and violent.
Luca. Just the thought of telling him makes my stomach twist. Because this stops being theoretical the second Luca knows. This becomes permanent. It becomes real.
“I was gonna tell Bish on the plane tomorrow,” I admit carefully. “Let me survive that first, and then we’ll figure out family stuff together when I’m home.” Just thinking about the conversation makes my stomach knot.
Luca will kill me. There’s no arguing. Emelie, it could go either way. Instead of murdering me, she might just cut off my leg or something.
My mom…honestly, I think she would accept it. She loves Anders, and she was a lot younger than my dad when they got married, so I’m sure she can look past the age thing.
Anders nods slowly. “Okay, Pet’ka.”
God, I wish I could touch him right now. I wish I could pull him into my lap and kiss his forehead and feel him breathing against my chest instead of staring at pixels on a screen three provinces away.
“Do you wanna go to brunch tomorrow afternoon?” I ask before I can overthink it.
Anders blinks. “You’re asking me on a date?” He suddenly turns his face out of frame. I hear him sniff once, then again. When he turns back, he’s wiping quickly beneath his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m not trying to.” He laughs weakly at himself. “I just told you today was emotionally exhausting.”
“I know, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yeah, I just…” He trails off.
And for one horrible second, I think he’s about to say it.
I love you.
My entire body tenses instinctively. I need him to say it because he’s ready—not because he thinks I’m waiting for it.
I haven’t said it again since the first time, but I feel it every single time I look at his beautiful face.
Knowing Anders, I know he’d force the words out before he was ready if he thought it would make me happy.
“I just really miss you,” he says finally.
Something inside me loosens and aches at the exact same time. The longer we’re apart, the more painful it is. I’m on the verge of falling apart and I’ve only been gone a few days. “I miss you too,” I tell him quietly. “So much, my baby.”
He laughs softly, embarrassed by himself. “This is pathetic. It’s been, like, three days and I’m acting like you’ve been shipped off to sea.”
“Luckily for you, I’m too old to be shipped off to sea.”
“Oh, hush. I’d love to see you in a sexy little sailor uniform.”
I smile so hard my face hurts. “Just pray we lose the next three games and I’ll come home early.”
Anders immediately shakes his head. “What? No, come on. Don’t say that.”
“It was a joke.”
“I know, but still.” His expression softens. “There are guys on your team who might never get this chance again. You know that.”
And there it is again. That thing he does.
That impossible way he loves me through the things I love too.
I’m sitting here wishing the season would end so I can get back to him faster, and he’s thinking about my teammates.
About the guys who’ve spent their whole lives chasing the Cup. About everyone.
I don’t think I could build a better person in my head if I tried.
“Then I’ll win it for them,” I murmur.
Anders grins. “There’s no I in team, old man. Delegate.”
“You’re right. I’m a captain. Delegating is my entire job.”
“Mm.” He settles deeper beneath the blankets. “Whatever. You’re the only player I care about.”
“Oh yeah?” I smirk. “Big fan of my backhand?”
“I get insanely horny when I see you in uniform,” he says matter-of-factly. “Something about the sweat. Very homoerotic of me.”
I laugh so hard I nearly choke. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet you’re obsessed with me.”
So fucking obsessed…
“Get some sleep,” I tell him softly. “Be good for me until I get home tomorrow.”
“I’ll try.” His expression softens again. “Good luck telling Bishop.”
I groan quietly, grimacing. “Ugh. Yeah. Thanks, baby.”
He gives me a sultry look and blows a kiss. “Night, Daddy.”
When the call ends, I set my phone on the nightstand and stare at the dark screen.
For years, hockey has been the thing pulling me away from home. Now it’s the thing I’m rushing through so I can get back to it.