Page 34 of Home Ice

“Yeah, the least you could have let me do is suck your dick.”

It’s so ridiculous, I can barely believe we’re having this conversation. “Neither of us was ready for that back then. At all.”

He turns to face me, shrinking some of the space between us. “You mean to say you never once looked at me? You never saw me naked and thought, Mmm, Hawke is one hot guy?”

I shrug, trying for sympathetic. “I guess you’re not that good-looking.”

“I can guarantee I get laid more than you.”

“It’s the money.”

“Fuck you.”

“Because we both know it’s not your personality.”

Hawke laughs and flicks my ear, exactly how he used to.

It hits us both at once. The gesture, how close we’re sitting, how much I want to reach over and pull him into a hug.

But I don’t.

I fight against the weighted promise of connection.

And then the moment passes.

Chapter Eleven

JENSEN

I’m torn on how to feel, sitting next to my best friend like things have never changed between us. He feels so warm and familiar, like home, but dulling those good feelings is the ten years of distance between us that were allowed to grow and fester in my mind.

In all those years, no matter how busy my schedule was, I never forgot about him.

Like I was carrying this part of Barrett with me everywhere I went, and now that I’m here, the time capsule of our memories cracked open in front of me, I don’t know how to put all the pieces back together.

“How long are you here for?” he asks after a minute. He’s always had this slightly gravelly rasp to his voice that I went through a period of trying to imitate. Turns out, I didn’t think it was cool; I thought it was hot.

“Supposed to fly out Wednesday.”

He glances up in surprise, one little strand of hair flicking forward over his forehead. His black hair is longer than he ever used to wear it, and I like it this way. Barrett has grown up. Filled in those shoulders. Caught up with the maturity in his deep brown eyes, grown a small amount of stubble. I’m definitely not checking out my ex-best friend, but he’s gotten hot.

If he’d been my hockey coach in high school, there’s no way I would have gotten through a single drill.

“Thought you’d be staying for longer,” he mutters.

“I think I will.”

Hope flares to life in his expression, and it’s that moment where I’m sure he feels it too. This … possibility between us. An actual shot at maybe having what we had before. “How long?”

“Well, like you said, Kasen’s not expecting me to hang around. I have all summer, so maybe I go from there and then …”

“That’s a good start.”

“I hope so.” I almost spill over to the thoughts of Kasen and what if he hates me forever and how the hell do I fix this, when I remind myself where I am.

Here, at the river, those thoughts aren’t allowed to touch me.

“Thanks for bringing me here. It helps.”