Page 13 of Powder
In the shower, it started with a gentle kiss, the hot spray pounding over our shoulders and trickling down our skin. The steam clung to us, the tiles slick beneath our feet, and the scent of soap and heat filled the small space. Water ran down his chest and over mine as our mouths met, slippery skin pressed tight, every sensation heightened by the warmth surrounding us. Then his hands slid over my shoulders, down my back, pulling me close until our bodies lined up.
It wasn’t frantic this time, not desperate—just slow, quiet goodbyes written in skin and steam. I pressed into him, frotting against his thigh as he rocked against me, every movement matched, every sigh caught in a kiss. My fingers tangled in his wet hair, his lips brushing over mine, over my jaw, down mythroat. The heat built gradually, tender and inevitable, until we both shuddered, clinging to each other as if the water might wash us apart. When it was over, we stayed wrapped together, foreheads touching, trading gentle kisses under the spray, neither of us willing to let go first.
We dried off slowly, deliberately, as though dragging out the minutes could somehow stall time itself. He handed me a towel with a crooked smile, and I smoothed it over his shoulders, memorizing the curve of muscle beneath my palms. Even then we kept touching—brushing fingers, lingering glances in the mirror—as if letting go would make the goodbye too real. Every small gesture carried weight, each kiss to damp skin a promise neither of us dared speak aloud.
It was goodbye.
SEVEN
Jack
The dreaded moment had arrived.
Tian and I were flying out of paradise this morning. Him back to Colorado. Me to Harrisburg. Both of us had training for our respective sports. The Railers and I had a lot of fine-tuning to do, and the only way to come into the season ready to kick ass was to train. Hard. Harder than I ever had before. I was old. The rest of the team was not so old. If I didn’t perform well, I’d be let go. No disrespect to the Railers organization as that was the business. You don’t bring the Cup home; you’re on the block. Happens every year to players, coaches, and general managers. I was nothing special.
So, if I wanted to stay in hockey, and some mornings I wondered if I really did, given all the aches and pains, I had to intensify my pre-season prep. What would I do if I didn’t play hockey? I had nothing in my life other than my sister and this brief fourteen-day holiday that had given me a tiny window into happiness with another person. Now the window was closing. Again.
“You’ve been staring at your underwear for a long time,” Tian commented. I glanced across the rumpled bed to where hiscase sat snapped and ready to roll. From his intense expression I knew he was trying to figure out where I was mentally. “You okay?
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about getting back on the ice. Training and all that.” I closed the lid on my case, smiled widely, and zipped it shut. “When is your flight again?”
He glanced at his phone after giving me a curious glance. “About two hours.”
“Right, right.” I’d blocked that departure time from my head. “I guess you’d best get rolling then. Your ride will be waiting for you.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He hoisted his bag from the bed.
I stood and watched him pad around in fancy sneakers, shorts, and a tee. A gorgeous specimen of a young man in his prime. And he’d been mine. For two weeks. For some reason this sexy-as-sin athlete had wanted to not only fondle my old man balls but suck them until I blew sky high like a Roman candle. He dropped his bags by my feet. My plane back to Harrisburg was at four. I had time to kill. Alone. Sitting by the pool with a drink in hand. Ugh. “This has been amazing.” He cupped my hairy face in his strong hands, dark eyes melancholy. “I wish we had more time but…”
“Yeah I wish so too. Damn buts. Can I kiss you goodbye?”
“You better.” He rose to his toes.
I enveloped him in a hug that pushed some air from his lungs as our mouths met. I licked over his tongue, picking up the sharp taste of spearmint toothpaste as I breathed in the warm scent of his skin mingling with his cologne. I wanted to lock the sensory memory down so I could pull it up when I thumbed through the few dozen selfies we had snapped during our stay.
“I’m going to miss you. If you’re ever in Colorado and I’m there… not that I’m there in the season… but hell, look me up.”
“I will,” I whispered then, as hard as it was, I released him.
He held my face for a moment longer, then forced a smile. “Maybe we’ll run into each other then.”
I nodded, and his hands fell from my face. I wanted to say things to him. Lots of things. But this was what we had agreed on. A clean break. We’d come into this knowing it was a vacation fling that ended at checkout time. He had a blossoming career while I was trying to salvage mine. Romance just did not fit into our busy lives.
“We’ll always have Caye Caulker,” I said in my best Bogart impression.
That made him smile. We’d spent a few nights curled around in other in bed after sex, his head on my chest. I recalled one special night when we watchedCasablancaas the tropical winds tickled our overheated skin. Perfect. Then, I let him go. And go he did, with a few glances over his shoulder until he was out of the door and out of my life. It sucked. I felt as if a hole the size of a manhole cover had been gouged out of my chest.
I walked out onto the patio and stayed there until I was sure he was gone. Only then did I call Fi to let her know I was heading home. Alone. Just as I had left.
“Okay,Jack, let’s hit the scale before we hit the ice,” Bjorn said as soon as I entered the locker room. “You can’t out-train a bad diet.”
I’d heard that for the past four weeks. And it was true. No denying it. I’d come back from Caye feeling glum over the loss of another lover, but something Fiona had said on the ride home from the airport had wiggled through the gloom like a sliver of sun cuts through the rain clouds.
“You’re looking at things wrong, Jack. Instead of focusing on leaving him, look at how fucking amazing it was to be with him and that you, Jack O’Leary, had a younger lover who lavished attention on you and was well-pleased in bed and out. Also, I love your snapshots of you and him. Can Ipleasesend a dozen to your ex?”
“No!”
“You don’t let me have any fun!”
