Page 32 of Scoring Slater
"Good. Mine too." The league had granted a number of tickets to each of the players for their families. Since Slater's workaholic parents and Noah's family hadn't been able to attend, they'd donated their tickets to an LGBTQ youth hockey league in Chicago.
His ginger teammate/roommate/best friend/boyfriend still wasn't looking at him. Damn it, he'd screwed up. But had Slater really expected him to blurt something out right then and there? What happened after the auction was their business, no one else's. "How did our picture turn out?"
Slater flipped the phone around. In the photo, they were smiling and leaning into each other, radiating pure happiness.
"It looks good."
A single red brow lifted over stony blue eyes. "Can I share it?"
With the edge in his voice, the question felt like a test, one Noah needed to pass. "That's fine."
"Is it?" Slater's quiet question sliced through him as sharp as a skate blade. Across the room, Max shouted for him to join in a photo, and a moment later, Noah was alone.
He stayed that way until the players were told to make their way to the ice.
Being announced along with Slater and standing side by side, representing their team was a huge honor. He touched Slater's arm, soaking in the moment of having his best friend right there with him.
On his first shift of the game, Noah scored a goal, thanks to a lucky bounce. It wasn't pretty or worthy of a highlight reel, but it got his team on the board first. He celebrated with Matthews and Max and skated back to the bench. Tapping gloves, he went down the line, seeking out Slater.
Finally, that smile came into view. They tapped gloves, and then Noah climbed over the bench and sat beside him. Slater thumped him on the back and leaned in close. "Nice job out there."
Relief poured through him. He laid his hand on Slater's thigh. Heat didn't penetrate through the layers of his glove and Slater's uniform, but the touch was enough, connecting them together.
Together.
They were flying back to Buffalo after the game. Returning home meant returning to real life. Real life, where the consequences of his actions were waiting for him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Waking up beside Noah was something he could get used to. Slater pressed a kiss to the scattering of stars on the sleeping man's shoulder and stretched. Being back in his own bed was always the best thing about waking up after a trip. But now, with Noah there too… just about perfect.
So much had happened in the short span of days since he'd last left this bed. And so much of it had to do with the man in his arms.
The fact that they were together seemed like something from a dream. Something too good to be true. But letting his thoughts wander down that rabbit hole wouldn't lead to anything good.
He eased himself out of bed and padded through the room, quietly pulling clothes from his dresser. After his shower, he studied his face in the mirror. The bruise that had graced his cheek for the past few days had finally faded completely. He was damn lucky that he hadn't ended up with a broken nose or dislocated jaw.
The morning routine of starting the coffeemaker, then the electric kettle, and setting up Noah's mug, with the tea and sugarbeforehe looked at his phone insured that he wouldn't get so caught up in being social that he lost track of time and would have to run out the door without caffeine.
He unplugged the phone from its charger and waited for the screen to light up. Twenty-seven new messages, most from the guys he'd hung out with over the weekend, and one from his agent. He'd turned the notification volume off after breakfast in their hotel room the day before, when he noticed that the chimes stressed out Noah. They'd have to deal with the barrage of questions and requests soon and agree on how to handle it.
After reading his agent's message, he calculated the time difference between Buffalo and LA, and called him anyway. As they talked, he heard the shower running. Noah would be coming in soon. When the water stopped, he switched on the kettle and wrapped up the call.
Things were happening, and he almost floated through the kitchen as he prepared his coffee and added water and a splash of milk to Noah's tea.
"Morning." Noah came in rubbing his hand over his eyes. "I'm still tired."
"Maybe throw an extra tea bag in your mug? A double shot of caffeine?"
Covering a yawn, he shook his head. "I'll drink another cup on the way to practice. Unless you want me to drive."
"It's too early in the morning to make jokes."
"Ha, ha." He leaned in and kissed Slater's cheek. His bright yellow hooded sweatshirt advertised the science museum and emphasized the faint purple shadows under his eyes. "You look happy today."
"I am." He motioned for Noah to lift the lid of the trashcan before shooting the crushed up teabag paper into it. "I got a message from my agent."
Noah stiffened and dropped the lid. "About us?"
