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He's already turning toward me, curling into my side, head on my arm.

That's when he says it.

Quiet. Clear. Looking straight at me in the shifting Christmas-light glow.

"I love you."

The words land in my chest like a physical thing. Warm. Heavy. Permanent.

I don't answer right away. I just look at him—at the open honesty on his face, at the faint sheen of sweat at his hairline, at the way he's still watching me like I'm something worth looking at.

Then I lean in and kiss him, slow and deep, and when I pull back I say it back, the only way I know how.

"I love you too."

He smiles, small and a little wet around the edges, and settles more fully against me.

The room's quiet. The Christmas lights are coming through the open door, red and green and blue on the ceiling. His fingers are tracing slow circles on my chest, over my heart.

"You said it," I say.

"I said it."

"You've never said it before."

"You said it first. In the hallway. Back in January." His fingers keep moving. "I wanted to wait until I could say it without crying."

"Did you?"

"No," he says, and laughs, a little wet. "Not even close."

I turn my head and kiss his forehead. His skin's warm. His hair smells like the arena, rubber and cold air.

"Say it again," I say.

"I love you, Owen." He says it slowly, like he's tasting each word. "Je t'aime. I love you. There. Three languages."

"That's two languages."

"I love you counts as two when I say it to you," he says. "It's a special rule. I just made it."

"You can't just make rules."

"I made five of them on your building's notepad. You followed every one." He pushes himself up on his elbow and looks down at me. "Except rule two."

My heart stops.

"You said after the Final," he says. "I'm going to hold you to it. The morning after the last game, win or lose, you tell me everything. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise me."

"I promise," I say.

He looks at me a second longer. Then he lies back down with his head on my arm, and closes his eyes, and within a few minutes his breathing slows and deepens, and he's asleep.

I don't sleep.