So now I’d finally get to say hello. Hopefully with both of us naked.
I picked up deli subs with extra meat and cheese on the way home, because I wanted to pay for a meal. Plus, we only had a couple of hours before Jos got back from school. I didn’t want to waste any time on cooking.
Zeke was running the vacuum when I came in the door, which meant he didn’t hear me and I got to surprise him. I bent to kiss the back of his neck, then ducked as he whirled and swung for my jaw with a closed fist. My dodge landed me hard on my ass on the coffee table. His pulled swing had him staggering, clasping the vacuum as if he was waltzing.
“What the fuck?” I asked.
“Don’t sneak up on me!” He untangled himself from the cord, ran a hand over his face, and lowered his voice. “Sorry, just, I spent months when anyone behind me might want to shank me. I’m still not good about surprises.”
“Noted.” I should’ve thought of that. Most of the time when I was around Zeke, I didn’t see the cop in him, but there were times when he’d suddenly alert to something, and his wholeface would harden. He’d been doing something or other around white supremacists undercover. He had a right to be jumpy. “My bad.”
“Don’t think I’m not glad to see you.” A smile warmed his expression. “Even if you did take a year off my life.” He beckoned, the smile widening. “C’mere.”
“Kitchen?” The front drapes were open, but the kitchen window was out of sight from neighbouring houses.
“Good idea.” Zeke switched off the vacuum and left it standing there in the middle of the room, jogging to the kitchen.
I laughed and followed him.
“Hey, you.” He reached for me.
At the last moment, I held back from the kiss. “Your lip looks painful.”
“Ah, fuck. I forgot.” He touched a scab at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not that bad.”
“What happened?”
“Elbow to the face.”
“Yeah. Those hurt.” A common mishap in hockey. There was a reason “elbows up” was a Canadian war cry. “Let me try carefully.” I pressed a kiss to the unharmed side of his mouth, then nipped at his jaw. “Your hands still work?” I slid mine in as far as they fit down the back of his tight jeans.
“Sure.” He hugged me close, our hips meeting, but then let go. “Let’s take it upstairs. With our luck, the school will have a gas leak and let out early or something. Jos said he’s okay with you and me if he doesn’t have to see it.”
“Works for me. Come on.” I led the way up the stairs, heading for his room at the top for the privacy. I had to stop and laugh, though, because the spot where he’d peeled the wallpaper now sported a large green “Mr. Yuck” sticker. “Don’t you trust me to have my eyes open?”
“Istepped on the damned stair the other night. I was distracted.”
“About what?”
“Heh.” He didn’t answer me.
“Distracted by my very fine ass?” I teased.
“Not so fine two thousand kilometres away.”
“Well, still fine, just not available.”
“Which was why I was distracted.” He followed me into his room and shut the door, but stared out the window instead of at me. “Hey, do you get laid when you’re on the road? Pick up guys? I bet it’s safer for you outside Vancouver.”
“I used to, yeah. Especially somewhere like Pasadena that couldn’t care less about hockey.”
“Like, one regular guy? Or hookups?”
“Hookups,” I told him. “No names, no numbers. Not this trip, of course.”
“No?” He turned my way then, and something in his expression rang a bell. Hope, happiness, whatever put that shine in his eyes and that little curve on his lips.
“No. I wouldn’t. Not without talking to you about it. Would you?” I hadn’t realized how much that meant to me till I asked the question. And held my breath.
