Page 75 of The Trade Deadline
“Busy?” he asked, well aware he must sound and look like an excited golden retriever. “Want to hang out tonight?” He was very proud that he made himself say “hang out” and had left out the “again” just in case anyone was listening.
Ryan hesitated. “I can’t tonight.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t expected that.
“I’ve gotta take care of some stuff.” Ryan waved his hand dismissively, like the stuff wasn’t actually important. Lars bit back his tongue—it was important enough that they wouldn’t get to see each other tonight—and shrugged it off. He had to catch up with his mormor and make plans for his Christmas visit. He hadn’t even booked a plane ticket, and he doubted he’d have much interest in doing that if Ryan was there distracting him.
He also wondered if this was about earlier, back in Lars’s apartment. He hoped he hadn’t pushed Ryan away. He dismissed the thought. Ryan was the one who’d been clear he wanted this to be more than a one time thing. They hadn’t been back in town for a while. He wanted to go to his apartment and like…do laundry or whatever. Talk to his friends. Properly digest what had happened last night before diving in for more. Healthy adult things.
“No, me too. Stuff.”Laundry. My sheets are gross.“Maybe tomorrow?”
Something in Ryan’s expression cracked. “Sure,” he said softly. “I’d like that.”
It was hard not to pull him in for a kiss or a hug after that, but somehow Lars managed to make do with a shoulder punch and watching Ryan walk in the opposite direction. As he drove home alone, doomed to a night of takeout and channel surfing, he wished he’d maybe toed the line a little more during practice and spent more time actually talking to Ryan.
* * *
Lars didn’t dream. His eyes fell shut and he lay there, painfully aware that he was alone. Sometimes a noise from the street below would startle him and he’d blink his eyes open and see the room around him unchanged. Again and again, he’d wake up and feel no time had passed, until finally the first hints of sunlight promised an end to his restlessness. He gave up around dawn, getting up to make coffee and book his flight to Ohio.
Halfway through his first cup, there was a knock at his front door. Lars froze with the mug at his lips as he tried to figure out who the fuck could be at his door at 8 a.m. on a Tuesday. He hadn’t ordered anything and it wasn’t like he had friends here. That meant it had to be?—
Lars rushed to the door, sliding in his socks a little, and then took a moment to collect himself before he opened the door with forced casualness.
“Hey.” Ryan had a warm smile. The cute, shy one that the press never got to see and that Lars coveted. “Breakfast?” He held up a box of donuts from a local bakery in offering.
Lars immediately swung the door open. He might’ve been able to play hard to get for a little while, but not with the promise of breakfast on the line. “Morning,” he said belatedly as Ryan stepped inside. “I made coffee, you want some?”
“Sure.” A pause. “You slept on the couch?”
Lars turned to see the evidence of his bad night of sleep—the blanket still marking where he lay, the throw pillows rearranged—and offered a half shrug. “My sheets weren’t dry yet,” he lied. He honestly hadn’t bothered checking. The only thing he’d known was that his room smelled like sex and Ryan. He’d never get to sleep if all he could do was feel Ryan’s absence.
Then he’d slept badly anyway, so he wasn’t sure what the point had been.
To distract Ryan, he took the box of donuts from him and set them on the counter, then went to pour some coffee. When he returned to the kitchen island with two steaming mugs, the donut box was open and displayed a lot of pink.
“What’s all this?” he laughed.
“Strawberry Shortcake, Strawberry Glaze, Strawberry Jelly, Strawberry Truffle, and this one I think is a plain glazed donut but with actual slices of strawberry on it.” Ryan pointed to each as he went through the list.
Lars licked his lips and studied the choices. “Strawberry’s my favorite,” he said as he carefully pulled out a Strawberry Jelly and then not-so-carefully bit into it, the gooey inside threatening to drip all over the counter.
“I know,” Ryan said indulgently.
“ ‘s so good.” Then Lars didn’t speak for a while as he ate three donuts in quick succession, all while Ryan sipped his coffee (black, like a smug hipster or something) and smiled. “You don’t want any?” Lars asked after his stomach was somewhat full and he was satisfied enough that he could share without regret. He even nudged the box closer to Ryan.
“I already ate at home. The donuts were more of an apology.”
“An apology?” Suddenly Lars’s stomach twisted uncomfortably and he almost wished he hadn’t eaten so much. He wasn’t sure which of the three delicious donuts he would’ve done without, but he hoped he wouldn’t be puking them up. “What for?”
“For yesterday. I was weird, and I’m sorry I blew you off without much of an explanation. I was nervous.” He swallowed. He was staring at his coffee instead of looking at Lars. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Slept with a teammate,” Lars said knowingly. It was uncharted territory for them both; he could definitely empathize with a little freaking out.
“No. Well, yes. Obviously. I meant that I’ve never really…intended to sleep with someone again. Like, I’ve had hookups and slept with the same person again later, but never because I planned it ahead of time.”
Lars blinked at him. The wires slowly connected, but he was unsure he’d gotten it right. “You’ve…never…dated anyone…? Before?”
Ryan turned deep red, his shoulders hunching protectively all the way up to his ears. “Not really?”
