That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that he was gone, and the sooner I moved on, the saner I’d be.

  And the whole point of hiring him had been to get the hang of things in bed with a guy so I could start hitting up Tinder or meeting guys in bars. No time like the present to give all that a try.

  Lounging in my hotel room with an icepack on my ankle and another on my hip, I installed Tinder on my phone. I spent more time setting up my profile than I probably needed to. Procrastinating? Putting off the intimidating prospect of browsing profiles? Maybe.

  Eventually, I’d tweaked it as much as it could be tweaked, and I made myself start looking. I wanted to search Seattle, but of course I was in Chicago tonight, so the only way to change my location was to pay for the premium membership.

  Fine. Fine.

  Just let me start looking before I lose my nerve.

  Finally, I had it set to browse Seattle, put in a few parameters, and… Search.

  Then I put the phone aside so I could shift on the bed and fuss with my icepacks, but that only distracted me for a few seconds before it was back to the screen.

  Okay. Here we go.

  Oh God…

  Looking through Emerald City profiles hadn’t been this intimidating. Then again, I probably wasn’t going to get rejected by someone on that app. As long as my credit card went through, it was all good.

  On here? Oh God. What if they didn’t think I was attractive? What if they didn’t think I was good in bed? What if they decided to start a rumor that I couldn’t get it up or that I had a micropenis or something? There wasn’t any shame in having ED or a small dick, but I could do without thousands of people discussing—or worse, laughing about—my junk’s size or functionality. Whether it was true or not, the sheer possibility of a Reddit thread or tabloid article or a fucking tweet saying anything about what I was packing or how I was in bed… Ugh. Gross.

  Just the thought of being the butt of a joke about something so personal nauseated me. A rumor had started once that a college teammate had gotten a tattoo on his dick. To this day, I didn’t know if it was true, but I remembered well how mortified he’d been that so many people had been talking about and laughing about what was in his pants.

  The thought of people talking about my body or my sex life… Oh my God. The preemptive embarrassment had acid climbing up the back of my throat. Worrying about what people thought was a huge part of why I hadn’t had sex until I was twenty-five in the first place. Now that I was a public person, I wouldn’t be able to escape those rumors just by graduating and moving on.

  Except when was the last time a rumor about another hockey player’s sexual prowess had crossed my radar? Was I making something out of nothing?

  Yeah.

  Probably.

  But why?

  Slowly, the truth settled in, and I turned off the app and put my phone aside.

  As if I didn’t know. The thing was, all the reasons I’d found to reject guys? Those were bullshit. They were just a convenient diversion from the truth, and that truth was that the only man I wanted was Cole.

  Just thinking about him made my chest hurt the way it had when he’d been telling me we had to stop doing this. Rubbing my eyes, I exhaled. Cole thought I’d want to play the field? I mean, fuck. I was trying to play the field right now, and I just kept going back to him. Every reason I found to swipe left boiled down to “You’re not Cole.”

  So what was I supposed to do with that? Because Cole had made it clear he didn’t want to be with me. Oh, he’d dressed it up as “you’re just falling for your first” and put it on me, but let’s be real. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want me.

  Great. I only wanted one man, and he didn’t want me.

  So what the fuck did I do now?

  “Hey. Dane.”

  Smitty’s voice caught my attention, and I looked up from taping my stick. “Yeah?”

  He clomped over in his skates and dropped onto the bench next to me. Much like when we talked on the charter jet, the locker room was noisy, so we didn’t have to work very hard to keep our conversation from carrying. Voice low, he said, “You good tonight? You’ve been a little…” He waved a gloved hand in front of his face.

  I sighed and looked down at the stick I’d been taping. “I’m good.”

  “Bullshit.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Seriously, kid. What’s up?”

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone about it. Get it off my chest so I could concentrate while I was on the ice.

  “Remember how I told you I took your advice? With Emerald City?”

  Brow knitting, he nodded.

  “Yeah, well.” I shifted my attention back to my stick and continued taping it, moving sharply and irritably. “It was great.”

  “Was?” Smitty watched me for a moment. Then he stopped my hand, and he gently lowered my stick. “Look at me, kid.” He was usually the only one on the team who could call me that without raising my hackles, but they went up this time.

  Gritting my teeth, I looked at him.

  There wasn’t a trace of his usual snark in his expression. He studied me with nothing but seriousness. “It was great, but something obviously isn’t great now. What happened?”

  I dropped my gaze to my stick again, but didn’t resume taping it. Instead, I tore the tape, put the roll aside, and focused on smoothing the ragged edge on the part I’d already wrapped with my thumb. Still working at the edge, I said, “I got way too into someone.”

  “Way too—you mean, one of the guys?”

  I almost winced. It had been a while since I’d really thought of Cole as an escort. As someone I’d hired for sex. The reminder made me feel so fucking stupid for getting so attached to him.

  “God, I’m so stupid.”

  “No, you’re not. You got attached. It happens.”

  “Yeah, well, it was one-sided. He insists I’m just into him because he’s my first.” I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “He’s probably right. Took me so fucking long to touch someone, and then I kept seeing him…” I thumbed the tape’s edge so hard, the friction burned my skin. “Should’ve known that would happen.” But how did that explain why he couldn’t get through calling this off without tears in his eyes? He’d been on the verge of breaking down—I could feel it. If this was one-sided…

  It didn’t matter. Cole was gone, I was an idiot, and I really needed to focus on this sport I was paid to play.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m good. It’s just been a rough couple of nights.”

  “I bet. And I’m sorry it worked out that way.” He squeezed my arm. “I know it doesn’t help much, but it won’t feel like this forever.”

  I met his gaze. “Says the guy who avoids relationships because breakups blow.”

  Smitty flinched, but he replaced it with a half-hearted smile. “I said it wouldn’t feel like this forever. I didn’t say you should dive back in and do it again.”

  I looked around the locker room, gaze landing briefly on Wright, then on Warner. To Smitty, I said, “Why is it other people can pull off this whole relationship thing? But the rest of us…”

  Sighing, he shook his head. “Don’t know, man.” He got up and gave my arm another squeeze. “But I never could, so I gave up on it. The other stuff is a whole lot less complicated.” He paused, then added a sympathetic, “Usually.”

  “Yeah. Usually. I guess we’re more alike than I thought.”

  He watched me, an oddly sad expression his face. Then, shaking his head again, he said, “I don’t think we are. You’re a lot less jaded than I am. You want someone to look up to for casual hookups? I’m your man. For relationships…” He gestured at some of the other lockers. “Warner and Wright. They pulled it off. So can you.”

  “But not you?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” he grumbled. “They can, though. And they’re both happy with their guys.” He smiled, though it seemed forced. “You’ll get there.”

  I wondered which of us was less convinced.

  While Wright slept in the other bed and I iced my knee, I fucked around on my phone. I was exhausted, but I was restless. I kept wandering through Tinder, but only for a few minutes before I’d get chased out either by my anxiety about meeting someone, my stupid feelings for Cole, or both. This was pointless.

  I really did need to move on, though. Maybe hooking up with another Gentleman would be the way to go. None of the bullshit like on Tinder. No risk of someone spreading a rumor about me. And I’d probably get naked with another hot guy and realize Cole was right—that I was fixating on him because he was my first, and there were plenty of other fish in the sea. I could browse tonight, book someone for my first evening back in town, and move the hell on.

  So I opened up the Emerald City app to browse the other Gentlemen.

  And five fucking minutes in, I couldn’t help myself—I went to my favorites so I could look at Cole’s profile and be pathetic over him.

  But his profile was gone.

  My heart dropped.

  Had he…

  Had he blocked me?

  I was tempted for about two seconds to text Smitty and ask him to look up Cole’s profile. See if it was still active and confirm that I’d been blocked. But that really would be pathetic, and anyway, I didn’t need to confirm what I already knew.

  Ending this hadn’t been enough. Walking away hadn’t been enough. Cole had gone scorched earth, making absolutely sure this was well and truly over. If I tried texting him, anything I sent would probably wander off into the ether because he’d blocked me there too. But I wouldn’t bother trying, because the message came through loud and clear.

  Cole had blocked me.

  Goddamn. For something that was just infatuation, this really fucking hurt.

  Chapter 30

  Cole

  I walked up to the elevator four times before I finally pressed the call button.

  When the doors opened, I balked again. Was I really doing this? And what the hell did I expect from it, anyway? A warm welcome? God. What was I thinking?

  The elevator doors gave up and started to slide closed, but the sudden certainty that my one and only chance was slipping away had me shoving my arm between them before they could shut completely. They opened again, and I stepped in. With my heart in my throat, I pressed the button for Parker’s floor.

  The doors closed again, and I closed my eyes, listening to the gears and cables hauling the car upward as my heart raced and my stomach did somersaults. This was my only shot. It was slim at best, but if I retreated again, I wasn’t going to scrape up the courage to come back. It was now or never, because I was too much of a coward.

  The elevator stopped.

  The doors opened.

  The familiar hallway stretched out in front of me, despite my nerves making me want to repeatedly jab the ground floor button, I started walking toward the condo.

  At the door I’d been to far more times than the ten bookings we’d agreed to via the Emerald City app, I paused for a deep breath.

  Then I knocked.

  Footsteps. Thank God, he was home.

  I gulped. Oh God, he was home.

  The deadbolt clicked, and before I was ready, the door opened.

  On the other side, Parker straightened. “Oh. Hey.”

  “Hey.” I moistened my lips. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Uh. Yeah. Sure.” He hesitated, but then stood aside and gestured for me to come in.

  Walking into that familiar condo felt anything but familiar. We’d fooled around over more surfaces in here than I could count, and it hadn’t been all that long since the last time I’d left, but somehow it seemed more alien than it had the first time. Or maybe it wasn’t alien—maybe I just felt unwelcome.

  “I, um…” Parker coughed quietly. “I wasn’t expecting…”

  “Yeah. I know.” I folded my arms loosely, just trying to keep them occupied as I gathered my thoughts.

  Before I’d pulled myself together enough to speak, though, he quietly said, “For the record, you didn’t have to block me on the app.”

  “Block—” I met his gaze. “What?”

  He pushed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. He didn’t look or sound angry, just tired. “You said you didn’t want to do this anymore. I can respect that enough not to book you without you—”

  “No, no.” I shook my head. “I didn’t block you.”

  His expression shifted from tired to tired and dubious.

  I swallowed hard. “I didn’t block you,” I said again. “I deleted my profile.”

  “You—” His jaw went slack. “What?”

  “I deleted it.” I took a deep breath and pushed my shoulders back. “Because the thought of being with anyone but you—I couldn’t do it.”

  Parker stared at me as if nothing I said made any sense at all.

  I cleared my throat and soldiered on. “Listen, I was wrong. About you and me, and about your feelings. Yeah, everyone gets infatuated with their first, but I got it into my stupid head that that means it’s not possible for someone to love their first.” My shoulders slumped as I sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you what you were or weren’t feeling, and… I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” He still watched me but didn’t say anything more. I couldn’t tell if he was still processing what I’d said, or if he was waiting for me to continue.

  The silence was unbearable, though, so I went on.

  “Look, I…” I raked a hand through my hair and exhaled. My voice was shaky as hell, but I made myself keep going. “I was scared that you felt something for me just because a lot of people fall for their first. And that you’d realize sooner or later that there’s a whole lot of greener grass out there, and you’d want to play the field, you know?” Swallowing hard, I looked in his eyes. “But you’re not my first. I have played the field. And…” It was definitely a struggle to speak now, but damn if I was going to stop until I got all this out in the open. “I love you, Parker. Like I haven’t loved anyone else. And if you’ll give me a shot, I’ll do everything I can to be the guy who deserves to have someone like you love me.”

  Parker still stared in shock, but I had nothing left. It was all out there, and I had no idea what else to say.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “That’s… That’s all I’ve got. I’m sorry, and I love you.”

  “So you…” He swept his tongue across his lips. “You think we can do this? And you want to?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Just because you haven’t had your heart stomped on a few times and you haven’t gotten as cynical as I am… That doesn’t mean you don’t know what love is. You knew what it was before I did.”

  He was silent again, watching me with an unreadable expression, and I didn’t think so much had ever hung in the balance as I waited for someone to say or do something. I’d poured my heart out and apologized and poured my heart out again. All I could do was wait for him to decide what to do with everything I’d put on the table.

  And then…

  Fuck me, but nothing in the world could possibly be more beautiful than his smile. As he stepped closer and reached for me, I was genuinely shocked that I didn’t start crying.

  “I am so glad you came back,” he said on what sounded like a relieved sigh, and just like that, his arms were around me. He didn’t kiss me—we just pulled each other close and held on tight, and as I buried my face against his neck, I definitely had to fight hard against tears.

  I didn’t think I loved you?

  It feels like I’ve always loved you.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “I know.” He loosened his embrace and looked in my eyes. As he combed his fingers through my hair, I almost melted to the floor even before he whispered, “I love you, Cole. I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing, or where we go from here, or…” He shook his head. “But I do know that much.”

  I smiled even as my eyes stung, and I caressed his cheek. “I’m pretty sure we can work with that. I mean, maybe you’ll realize in a year or five years that you can do better, and you’ll want someone else. I don’t know. That scares the hell out of me, but I mean it—if you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to show you that you were right. And that this is real.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I was just too stupid to see that.”

  “You see it now. That’s all I care about.” Before I could grovel any further, he cupped my neck in both hands and kissed me, and I had to lean into him just to keep from dropping to the floor at his feet. Stroking my hair, he whispered, “You don’t have to stop working at Emerald City, though.”

  I exhaled. Then I drew back and touched his face. “No, I do. For me.”

  “Why?”

  My face burned and I wasn’t even sure why. “It’s not that I have some ethical thing about having sex for money while I’m in a relationship. I’ve had boyfriends while I worked there. It’s…” I gestured dismissively. “It’s a non-issue.”

  “Why is this different?”

  “Because for as much as I’ve never thought very highly of monogamy, I don’t want to be with anyone but you. Not for fun. Not for money.” I ran the pad of my thumb along his cheekbone. “The only man I want to touch is you.”

  His lips parted and his eyes widened. “But… But I’m gone. For weeks at a time. And after a game, I’m not always—”

  I kissed him softly to stop him in his tracks. “I don’t care. Every time you come back from being on the road, you’re worth the wait. And if you’re too tired or sore after a game, then we can just be together. But I don’t want or need anything from anyone else.”

  Parker stared at me, eyes round with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “Completely. You’re everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”

  Oh my God, that smile again.

  He pulled me in for another kiss, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as we let that soft, tender moment linger. Little by little, though, the kiss deepened. I couldn’t say for sure who was initiating it, but I sure as hell wasn’t saying no and neither was he.