Page 23 of Shift Change

“That’s good. I’m not sure we could be friends if you didn’t.”

Our eyes met, and something tightened in my chest. “We should go to sleep. I’ll come get you in two hours.”

I stripped down and climbed into bed, expecting to fall asleep quickly. Instead, my brain lit up and took off for the races. The last few days played on a loop—every look, every breath, and every word either of us had said, plus some Ihadn’tsaid. We’d been up front with each other when we told our stories, so I wondered if I should continue the same level of honesty. I could tell him I was confused as hell and maybe—possibly—sort of attracted to him, so he could help me figure things out.

Right. Nothing seals a friendship like confessing you’ve got feelings you don’t understand for your new roommate.

The harder I tried to relax, the more awake I was. My thoughts were sprinting laps, and now that I was overthinking everything, my body decided to get in on the action by freezing.Goddammit, why can’t I remember to reprogram the heat?I yanked the covers to my chin, but they might as well have been made of tissue paper. My muscles twitched, the room was cold, and all I could think about was how my bed felt too empty.

An idea occurred to me: hockey players took naps together all the time. Travel days, long road trips, and hotels took a lot out of us, not to mention that we were human and got lonely. As a result, we sometimes napped on the same bed with a teammate. It wasn’t weird, and there was never any touching. Why not do it at home? I was cold and couldn’t settle down, and Dog was right out of the minors, where he might’ve had to share a bed at night sometimes.

I could take a blanket down the hall and say something like, “Hey man, I can’t sleep. Mind if I sprawl on top of your covers?” We’d both played hockey most of our lives, so it wouldn’t be a big deal. It was perfectly normal.

Unless it wasn’t. What if he said no? Or worse, what if he thought I was trying to make a move? Would he tell me we couldn’t be friends and move out?

Nah. He’d probably say, “Sure, no problem.” We were both straight, and he had no reason to read anything into it other than what it was.

I stared at the ceiling, then at the door, and then back at the ceiling.

Fuck it.

I tossed the covers back, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and got up. Cold or not, confused or not, I didn’t want to be alone. I grabbed a pair of basketball shorts, pulled on a T-shirt, picked up my blanket, and went to find him.

Then I hesitated at the guest room door. He was probably already asleep, so should I risk waking him? If he wasn’t sleeping, I sure as hell didn’t want to walk in and catch him jerking off or something.Shit.I knocked and waited for the all-clear.

“Yeah? Come in.”

I opened the door, and—oh, come thefuckon. He was propped against the headboard, shirtless, pecs on full display like a cover model onInspiration to Keep Working Out. I froze as my eyes locked onto him. Dog had muscle definition I could only dream about.

He shifted, and the comforter slid to his thighs, revealing his abs and obliques. I almost turned around and ran. He had at least a twelve-pack, and that little V-cut was incredible. I’d tried for years to get one of those, but it wasn’t in my genes.

“What’s up?” he asked.

It was time to stop staring, so I dragged my gaze to his face. His eyes were warm, his expression easy. He obviously hadn’t been asleep, but it seemed polite to ask anyway. “Did I wake you?”

“No. Been restless, to tell the truth.”

Roughly a million butterflies took off in my stomach. I stood frozen barely inside the door, rethinking every decision that had led me here. Had I seriously walked into a teammate’s bedroom—while he was in bed—for no real reason?

Eventually, I managed to say, “I’ve been restless too, and it’s freezing in my room. I was wondering…”

He raised an eyebrow and waited.

I shifted my weight. “Would you think it was weird if I asked… Could we nap together?” I held up my blanket. “I’ll crash on top of your covers.”

“No, not weird.” His eyes widened, and—holy shit—he licked his lips. “We used to do it in Syracuse sometimes.”

Damn, what color are his lips, anyway?

He fixed his eyes on the wall opposite the bed. “Did you want to ask if it would be weird to ask? Or if we could do it?” His cheeks turned red when he looked at me. “If we could nap, I mean. Together, you know. Like… take a nap together?”

I snorted. “We used to do it all the time in college. Hell, sometimes we were two to a bed, two beds to a room.” Dog remained quiet, so I blundered on. “It wouldn’t be weird, or at least it wouldn’t for me. I think if we did it… napped together, I mean… I’d be able to sleep. And since you were restless too, what do you think?”

He hesitated long enough to make me wonder if I’d lost my mind. Finally, he nodded. “No problem. I’d like it. Like being able to sleep, I mean.”

My shoulders relaxed, and I exhaled for what may have been the first time since entering his room. “Great. Should I turn around while you put on shorts?”

“I’m wearing some. Can’t stand trying to sleep in a shirt, but I usually keep my boxers on.”

---