Page 81 of The Trade Deadline
Ryan stared at him. That was very technically true—his condo was huge—but it only had one bedroom. Which was obviously not a problem, since Ryan had slept in Lars’s bed about as often as his own the past week, but if anyoneelseknew and found out Ryan was staying there, it’d be hard to play it off as a friend helping out a friend.
“You’re there most of the time, anyway.” Lars said it quietly so the words barely crossed the four feet to him; no one else could overhear. “No one knows I don’t have a guest room. You’re the only one who’s been over.”
Relief flooded through him, then a strange sort of pride that he was the only guest to visit Lars. And finally, a tingly sensation that reminded him of being drunk or high, but one he knew was completely brought on by the prospect of temporarily living with Lars.
“You like breaking all the rules, huh? Teammates with benefits, now roommates?”
“I certainly like all the benefits,” Lars said with a wink. Then, more seriously, “And I would like to help. And see you more. And other things I can’t say when we could be interrupted?—”
On cue, Jake pushed out of the locker room, on the phone with his wife. He shot them both a wave and a smile, never faltering as he listed upcoming basketball games and practices for his oldest. He was out the door into the parking garage within seconds, but the illusion of privacy was broken.
Ryan considered a moment. This was a no brainer, right?
Practical. Lars lived closer to the rink. Ryandidspend a lot of time there, and it would be less intrusive to Tanner. Tanner was also sweet but kind of a slob.
No emotions involved at all.
“How will I pay you back?” Joking about it made the whole thing more manageable.
“Oh, I’m sure we can arrange something,” Lars promised.
“I’ll have to swing by my place to grab some stuff,” he said, trying out the idea of this arrangement. He definitely liked it. “I could pick up dinner on the way over.”
Lars waved off the idea. “I’ll cook. It’ll be ready by the time you’re home.”
He’s foreign,Ryan reminded himself as his heart leapt.He doesn’t know what that sounds like.
“Great.” His voice shook slightly. “Give me an hour?”
“Of course.” Lars grinned. “This’ll be fun.”
Chapter25
Lars
AmI living with my boyfriend?
Lars asked himself that often, and never had a satisfying answer. Well, there was one very satisfying answer, but like Ryan, he had little experience with dating. He assumed a conversation was needed, a mutual agreement that they were, in fact, boyfriends, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Because what if theyweren’tdating? Even after all these years in the States, he knew he didn’t always understand the culture, the language, the people. While he mighthopehe and Ryan were on the same page, there was always a chance he was wrong.
He didn’t want to be wrong about this.
And things were good. He got to spend nearly the whole day with Ryan, whether it was at the rink or his condo. Or in his bed.
Today they had a late game and no practice, so yesterday they’d stayed up late and slept in. Lars was up first, sipping his coffee in the doorway while he enjoyed the view: Ryan, snoring gently where he was tangled in the blankets, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Most importantly, he was wearing one of Lars’s shirts, an old Team Sweden one that was so faded it had one and a half crowns instead of three.It made something possessive flare up inside him, some caveman part of his brain that saw Ryan in his clothes as a territorial claim and that was equally pleased to hold that claim.
Mineit said over and over.Mine mine mine.
The thought went straight to his dick, but he ignored the thrum of arousal. They’d promised to dial down on the sex to prepare for their upcoming road trip. Indulging in endless sex when only their neighbors might hear was an acceptable risk; loud fucking when their teammates or coaches might find out was not.
He indulged himself a few more minutes before forcing himself to head to the kitchen to make breakfast.
He’d thought originally that Ryan didn’t like flavorful food. He’d quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Ryan was perfectly capable of eating just about anything, no matter how flavorless or actually terrible, which he credited to being the youngest of six: he ate what he could, when he could, even if it was the mediocre cooking of a few of his sisters or the leftovers no one else would touch. Lars had also discovered that Ryan’s bland diet was mostly due to his inability to cook. Bland was quick, bland was edible, and as long as he hit his protein goals, Ryan was content to eat basically anything.
Lars, to put it nicely, was not. He had a sweet tooth, but besides that he didn’t want to feel like eating was a chore. His mormor had taught him how to cook, and he’d learned enough from meal prep kits over the years that he could cook fairly well. He’d made use of those skills to impress Ryan, making his favorites from Sweden and his more “American” go-to meals.
Today would be muesli withfilmjölk, fruit salad, and ham and cheese omelets. Perfect way to start the day with one of his favorite people.
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