Page 11 of Misconduct Zone

“Come to my room, we can watch a movie or nap.” Lars nudges me in the elevator.

“Perfect.” Sleep calls my name, but hanging out sounds better.

To the dismay of my self-preservation and the elation of random thoughts, Lars has a king room. He’s got the TV synced with his phone so we can stream whatever we want.

He rounds the bed and sits propped up by pillows on the side by the windows. The curtains are closed, casting the room in semidarkness.

“Have a seat.” He pats the bed next to him, and my feet move quickly, but my mind is hesitant.

I remove my shoes and arrange the pillows to get comfortable. “What are we watching?” I eye the space between us, and it’s only inches closer than we normally sit on our couch. His couch. I have to stop claiming his things as mine. The missing few inches spark an awareness in my body.

“Whatever you want. We’ve seen everything good.” I watch how his smile softens his face. Lars has angular features, and with his reserved personality,he often looks stern. But when he smiles, his eyes crinkle and his lips…whoa…wait…what’s happening?

“Put something terrible on in the background. I’m catching up on my beauty sleep.” I roll with my back to him to put more distance between us. The sex talk in the lobby got me curious, and my mind hopped on that train of thought.

“Sure, Sleeping Beauty.” Lars reaches over to smack my leg but gets the lower part of my ass. My body lights up, and my dick gets half hard. I need to get laid. This reaction is ridiculous, and I blame the fact that it’s been over ten months since I’ve had sex. It’s one thing to want to hoard Lars’s time because I’m too attached, but it’s another for my dick to wake up.

The thought of going to a bar tonight and picking up a woman curdles my stomach. I’m not a puck-bunny whore, but I’ve indulged a couple of times in beautiful women who offered sex with no strings attached, and I’m only human, but I don’t usually enjoy it as much as I think I should. It’s degrading for both of us. Meaningless sex is lonely and empty. I need my head examined.

Lars selects something I can’t hear over the pounding in my head, and I feel him move, lying beside me. I shut my eyes and visualize hockey drills over and over until my dick behaves.

We’ve fallen asleep on the couch countless times, and when I was going through withdrawals from the pain meds, he’d crawl in bed with me so I could sleep. Being so close to him shouldn’t be a problem.

I’m hyperaware of his breathing and movements. Great. I’m at barnacle level of attachment now.

Chapter 7

Lars

“There’s my favorite first liney duo,” Trevor says, looking to Patrik for confirmation he got the hockey lingo right. Liska shrugs and motions us in. “So happy you could come.” Trevor takes the gift bag from me and leads us past the chef’s grade kitchen and into the living room with a panoramic view of the city. Delicious smells of a home-cooked meal fill the space, and my stomach rumbles.

“Can’t you find any single gay friends?” Finn complains as we walk into the room. “It’s a feast of man candy, and I can’t gorge.” He fans himself dramatically. Finn missed his calling as an actor; he’s wasting his talents in PR.

“You knew who would be here.” Trevor scowls at his best friend. “When did you ever set me up?” His hands go to his hips, and I smirk at Dylon, knowing if someone doesn’t cut him off, he’s going to go on a tirade.

“Lars brought you guys Swedish chocolate.” Dylon motions to the bag Trevor’s holding.

“Oh, you gorgeous man. You know how to win a man’s heart.” Trevor opens the bag and clutches the chocolate to his chest.

“Hey,” Liska yells from the kitchen.

“Not to worry, Snug, I’m all yours.” Trevor flings a hand toward a couple sitting on the couch. “Do you remember my cousin Shane and his husband, Cole?”

“Hey, good to see you again.” Dylon steps forward to shake their hands. “This time, there’s no makeup artist trying to ‘fix our shine,’ “ he jokes with air quotes. Shane was also in Trevor’s fashion show over the summer.

Dylon can find something to talk about with anyone. He has a great memory for faces and listens, recalling what they talked about before and asking questions. It’s a skill I’ll never have. Tonight’s a celebration of the success of Trevor’s pop-up shop. He worked for the Enforcers as a product manager but is now focusing on launching his design career. Though he still consults with the Enforcers since his position hasn’t been filled yet.

I listen to their small talk without engaging in the conversation until Dylon asks, “Is your friend, Alec, coming? He did my tattoo a couple of years ago.” Dylon tugs the collar of his T-shirt to show off my favorite tattoo of all time. I didn’t realize Alec had done it, and my irrational dislike of the man increases knowing he touched Dylon’s skin in a way I have not.

Shane’s eyes dart to his cousin, who’s in the kitchen, and even though he can’t hear us, Shane whispers, “No. He’s been a beast since Von’s been gone.” Shane turns to me. “I hear you saw Von recently. Is he doing okay?”

“He is anxious to come back but doing much better since Alec’s visit,” I answer, withholding judgment from my voice. Von forgave Alec, but I am hesitant. Two very separate parts of my life came together when Trevor and Shane reconnected. As Patrik’s partner, Trevor is part of my hockey family, and Von and I have been friends since childhood. And now that Von and Alec are together, I see Shane and Cole as part of their inner circle.

Shane and Cole have my attention for another reason. Shane is sitting on Cole’s lap even though they are the only ones on an L-shaped couch that seats ten people. They’re so relaxed with each other, as if it’s their default way of sitting. I’m so focused on them I’m surprised when Caleb slaps my back in a greeting.

“The view here is sick.” He passes me to admire the view of both the East River and the Chrysler Building from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s spectacular.

“It never gets old.” Trevor sighs happily. “Thanks for coming. You could’ve brought Mason.”

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