First things first: I had to swing into the supermarket for a few things, and while I was there, I marched over to the pharmacy section for a pack of condoms and some lube. I tossed them in my basket and kept walking, refusing to look around and see if anyone saw me. No one did. And if they did, they didn’t care. Most people didn’t recognize me anyway unless I was with Simon or the cats, so no one was going to give a rat’s ass that I was buying some goddamned condoms.

  Besides, for all they knew, Simon and I still used them. Or we had an open relationship. Or… no, really, no one would know or care. I wasn’t conceited enough to think the whole world was zeroed in on my every move or gave a damn what I bought at the supermarket; I was just paranoid because Simon and I had so much riding on keeping our breakup a secret.

  For fuck’s sake. It was like the reverse of being in the closet—instead of sneaking around as secret boyfriends and hoping no one found out, we were sneaking around as secret exes.

  Yeah. Definitely time to move the hell on as best I could while keeping this under wraps. Would it be too formal to have someone sign an NDA before we got naked?

  The thought actually made me chuckle. Stranger things had probably happened. I knew for a fact that some of my past and present teammates had cheated on their spouses, engaged in threesomes of varying configurations, and at least one who wouldn’t be named had hooked up with a coach’s wife. Somehow, those hadn’t leaked beyond locker rooms. Maybe there were NDAs involved? Hush money? Or maybe they were just really good at finding tight-lipped participants for their potentially scandalous activities?

  I’d find a way. Somehow or another, I was going to put myself out there and remember that sex and intimacy still existed after Simon.

  Just thinking about that gave me a much-needed rush of optimism. I still didn’t feel as good as I had when we’d come back to the hotel last night after that amazing game, but I wasn’t an emotional trainwreck like I’d been sleeping beside Simon. I’d take it.

  And that was before I walked into the house.

  As soon as I’d opened the door, I was greeted by two things that made my entire world brighter and warmer.

  One, the familiar sight of my boys on the kitchen island, purring and chirping at me as they kneaded the edge of the counter and demanded pets.

  Two…

  Oh, hell.

  Wyatt got up from the couch where he’d been watching TV. He had on a pair of gym shorts and a snug Army T-shirt, and that smile… the way some dark curls had tumbled over his forehead… those eyes…

  No wonder Simon thinks I’m sleeping with you.

  I cleared my throat as I put my luggage and grocery bags down by my feet. Petting my demanding cats, I said, “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He came around the island and started rinsing out the empty bowl in his hand. “That was a great game last night. I think I’m starting to figure out the rules a bit more, too.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “It was definitely a crash course in what is and isn’t offside, that’s for sure.”

  He snorted. “I was starting to think the refs need to learn more about it than I do.” He shut off the faucet and put the bowl aside. Leaning against the counter, subtly taking some weight off his prosthetic, he added, “Does it usually take them that long to figure out if something is offside?”

  “Ugh. No.” I rolled my eyes. “Especially since the play was obviously onside. I don’t even know what their coach was thinking, challenging that goal, but the refs? One of my buddies said they were probably just watching cat videos or something.”

  Wyatt laughed, unaware of the inexplicable things that did to my balance. “Okay, so it wasn’t just me.” His brow furrowed. “What I didn’t get was the penalty. Both times the coach challenged for offside, there was a penalty right after. What was that about?”

  “Delay of game. If they challenge a goal and lose, they get penalized.”

  “Ooh.” He nodded slowly. “Okay, now it makes sense. I kept thinking I’d missed something.”

  “Pfft.” I tousled Moose’s ears. “The officials missed a lot, so you’d have been in good company.”

  He chuckled. “But hey, you guys still won.” His eyebrows rose. “That seemed like a huge score for hockey. Or have I just been watching games where nobody scores much?”

  “It was a pretty wild score.” I reached down to get the groceries I’d set by my feet and put them on the counter. “I need to grab a few more of these out of the car. Be right back.”

  “Do you need a hand?” Wyatt pushed himself off the counter.

  The words, “Nah, I’ve got it” lodged in the back of my throat. I tried not to think too hard about why I said, “Sure, thanks,” instead. There wasn’t much, but for some reason, I just couldn’t say no to the company, even if it was just out to the garage for some grocery bags.

  What is wrong with me?

  Eh, whatever. I liked Wyatt’s company and didn’t feel like picking apart why. We continued chatting about the game as we trooped out to the car for the last few bags. Of course it only took one trip, and Wyatt immediately set about helping me unpack them and put things away.

  It was so strangely domestic. The kind of thing I’d have done with a partner or even a roommate. It occurred to me as I handed him some freezer items that I’d been missing little domestic things like this. Even tasks as simple as putting away groceries or making a meal together. I also realized Simon and I had stopped doing them together well before he’d moved out. It was rare for us to even go to the supermarket together anymore, never mind go through the motions of putting it all away afterward.

  Have we been over for longer than I thought?

  As I was putting some things into a cabinet, there was a rustle on the island behind me. I didn’t think anything of it because Wyatt was pulling things out of bags.

  But then a few things tumbled onto the floor, and Wyatt laughed. “Really, dude?”

  I turned around to see Bear sitting beside a partly empty bag that was leaning over the counter’s edge, its contents scattered on the floor. I chuckled. “He’s so helpful.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Wyatt gave Bear a little head scratch. Then he leaned down to pick up what had fallen.

  And that was the exact moment I realized which bag Bear had dumped out.

  Wyatt scooped up the toothpaste, the deodorant… and the box of condoms. To his credit, he just put them all back in the bag and pushed it away from the edge of the counter. “Can you leave it alone now?” he asked Bear. “You’re not helping.”

  My face was on fire.

  I felt like an idiot—I was a grown man. A single one! Buying condoms wasn’t scandalous, for fuck’s sake.

  At least one of us could be an adult about it, though. Wyatt didn’t even acknowledge the box as he continued talking to my cat and going through groceries.

  I was just a dumbass.

  In no time, we’d finished putting everything away. I grabbed my luggage and the bag full of toiletries, went upstairs to put it all in my bedroom, and then came back down to join him and the animals.

  “You want some lunch?” I asked. “I was thinking of being lazy and doing DoorDash.”

  Wyatt nodded toward the bowl in the sink. “I just ate, but if you’re ordering from that place with the frozen coffees, I’ll take one.”

  I grinned. “You like those, don’t you?”

  “Fuck yeah, I do.” He gestured down the hall. “I can grab some cash for the coffee and the tip if—”

  “Nah.” I waved it away and took out my phone. “I’ve got it.”

  I placed an order, and while we waited, we chilled on the couch. He caught me up on everything my cats had done while I was gone, and I loved the way he laughed when he told me about Lily and Bear both getting the zoomies and tearing through the house.

  “The funniest part,” he said between chuckles, “was the way Moose just watched them like, ‘you guys are so undignified.’” He gestured at the cat tree. “And then five minutes later, he’s losing his mind over one of those catnip fish toys.”

  I laughed too. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He thinks Bear is the least dignified creature on the planet, but then he turns around and acts like a complete idiot.” I shot Moose a look. “You’re a hypocrite, cat. Did you know that?”

  He peered down at me with the same look he often gave Bear.

  Wyatt just laughed, shaking his head. “I never knew cats could be this entertaining.”

  “Never a dull moment. Even when they’re sleeping.”

  “Yeah, true.” He turned a fond smile on Bear, who was sprawled along the back of the couch. “I wish I’d gotten a picture of him and Lily curled up last night.”

  “Aww, really?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. He kind of laid down half on top of her, and she was like, ‘Dad, the big kitty is squishing me!’” He patted his dog’s shoulder. “Two minutes later, she’s got her head on him and they’re both snoring.”

  “Sounds about right. I’m glad they get along.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  We exchanged smiles, and my heart did some weird fluttery things that I didn’t think were entirely because of the cute stories about our pets.

  I didn’t think they were? Yeah, right. I couldn’t deny the effect Wyatt was having on me. I still wasn’t sure if this was genuine attraction, never mind mutual attraction, but whatever it was… I liked it. He was fun to talk to. He was just chill and great to be around.

  When I’d told him before that I liked having him and Lily here, that had been a serious understatement. This house had been empty and cold ever since Simon moved out, but then Wyatt had shown up and breathed new life into it.

  I had no idea how long he’d ultimately stay here.

  But I hoped he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

  Chapter 28

  Wyatt

  I wasn’t going to say a word about the condoms Bear had knocked off the counter earlier, but that didn’t mean they were out of my mind.

  I could read between the lines. Anthony and Simon had been together long enough, they’d probably ditched rubbers ages ago. Then Anthony had come home after rooming with his ex for two nights, armed with a box of Trojans.

  Somebody was on the prowl. I didn’t think he’d met anyone—he wasn’t looking at his phone every twelve seconds or getting that dreamy, faraway expression people got when they were counting down the minutes before they saw someone. He didn’t have that loopy little smile after every glance at the screen.

  Was it wrong that I hoped to God he met his hookups someplace else? It was his house and he had every right to fuck anyone and everyone here. I was in absolutely no position to even wish he’d go to their place or a hotel or something, because holy shit, that would make the me one hell of a choosing beggar. The man was putting me up and keeping me off the streets; hearing him getting laid was the smallest price to pay.

  I just wasn’t sure there my elbow would survive the amount of jacking off it would take to stay sane while Anthony was having sex under the same roof.

  And that was a train of thought I really, really needed to stop while we were in the same room. Whether he had hookups in the offing or not, he was here right now and wasn’t making any noise about leaving or having someone over. We’d settled onto the couch to watch a game, and the conversation had been all about hockey. We’d talked about last night’s game. He’d explained a couple of penalties I’d seen but didn’t quite understand. He’d ranted about a player from Florida who’d been suspended for two games over a dirty hit in Buffalo last night.

  “Should’ve been five games,” he grumbled as he put on the pregame show. “That son of a bitch has put at least half a dozen players on the long-term injured list in his career.”

  “Really?” I sipped my drink. “And he’s still playing?”

  Anthony made an unhappy noise and nodded. “He’s fucking thug. Everyone insists people just hate him because they hate playing against him, and they’d be thrilled to have him on their team.” Shaking his head, he put the remote aside and pulled his feet up under him on the cushion. “If his happy ass ever lands in Seattle, I’m requesting a trade.”

  “I don’t blame you. What a dick.” I hadn’t been watching that game last night, but Anthony had shown me the replay. My knowledge of the sport was still incredibly basic, and sometimes things didn’t look dirty to me when they were, or vice versa; there were subtleties that were obvious to fans and players but went over my head. The one last night? Anthony hadn’t needed to explain to me why it was dangerous. The way the player had put up his elbow and aimed it right at the side of the other guy’s neck was so painfully obvious, even my novice ass understood.

  “So what does someone like that have to do to get punted out to the League?” I asked. “Whip out a switchblade and stab someone?”

  Anthony snorted. “His fans will just say the other guy deserved it for not keeping his head up or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Ugh. And he injured the shit out of a Seattle player the season before I got here. Broke his jaw and didn’t even get a penalty for it.”

  “What?” I stared at him. “Seriously? No penalty?”

  “Refs didn’t call it. But after that, the guy can’t touch the puck in Seattle without getting booed. We’re one of the only teams he never scores against because the fans fuck with his head too much.”

  “Good!”

  “Right? I just keep hoping he’ll retire.”

  “How long do you think that’ll be?”

  Anthony sighed. “Knowing my luck? He’ll be one of those guys who plays into his forties.”

  “Always how it is, isn’t it?” I chuckled. “I had a first sergeant who we all just kept hoping would retire. Like we were all counting down the days until he hit twenty years.”

  Anthony’s brow pinched. “But he stuck around?”

  Groaning, I nodded. “Fucker got promoted, so he reenlisted. Last I heard, he was going for thirty years.” I shook my head and brought my drink up again. “One more reason I’m so glad I got discharged.”

  “Yeah, I bet. I swear the dickbags are always like cockroaches. There could be a nuclear apocalypse and they’ll still be playing.”

  I barked a laugh. “I can just see it—a whole team of asshole hockey dickheads playing through the nuclear winter.”

  “Right?” He chuckled, and the conversation died away as the pregame show started.

  Without our meandering, rambling conversation to hold my attention, my mind went right back to where it had been ever since we’d unpacked groceries.

  Anthony. Out on the prowl. Hooking up.

  He wouldn’t have any trouble in that department, that was for sure. If I’d come across him on an app, I’d have swiped right so hard my phone would’ve exploded. Between his gorgeous face and that mouthwatering six-pack, every queer man in Seattle was probably his to lose.

  I shifted a little on the couch, hoping he didn’t notice. Anthony was a million miles out of my league. I had no illusions of even registering on his radar.

  Didn’t stop me from being painfully attracted to him, though.

  Or wondering if it would be seriously hot or absolute torture if he was loud enough in bed that it carried down to my room. On one hand, it would drive me out of my ever-loving mind, listening to someone else driving him wild. On the other…

  I shifted again, and just for good measure, kept my glass in my lap so he didn’t notice my hard-on.

  Get a grip, Wyatt. Jesus Christ.

  Fortunately, the game was about to start, and trying to learn the sport meant paying close attention. Hopefully that would be enough to keep me from embarrassing myself.

  Then Anthony’s phone pinged with a distinctive tone.

  Before I could tell myself to play it cool and pretend not to notice, I turned my head.

  He caught my eye, and he was instantly blushing. We both looked away.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m… Just trying out a new app, and…”

  I forced a laugh. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  “I should probably mute the notification sounds, though.” He made a face. “I don’t need this thing going off in the locker room.” He furrowed his brow at the screen. “How the fuck do I do that, anyway?”

  “Go into Settings. The icon should be in the…” I thought about it. “Upper right, I think? You can turn it to vibrate or silent.”

  Anthony peered at his phone and tapped the screen. “Ah. Okay. Here.” He tapped a couple more times. “There.” With a self-conscious laugh, he added, “Now my teammates won’t hear me being a clueless dumbass.”

  I cocked a brow. The game had started in the background, but neither of us was paying any attention to what was on the screen. “Clueless?”

  Scowling, he nodded. “I feel like my grandpa trying to figure out how to open a PDF.” He squinted his eyes and said in an old man voice, “These darn kids and their newfangled hand computers. Get off my lawn.”

  I laughed, but I felt for him. While those apps weren’t difficult to navigate from a technical standpoint once you found all the buttons and functions, they were a pain in the dick to use. So many expectations, so much subtext, so many unwritten rules and cheat codes everyone was supposed to intuit. I’d hated using them, even if they had been a reasonably efficient way to get laid in my old life.

  Anthony had been off the market for longer than I’d been out of the game. Dipping his toes in and learning all the new norms had to be intimidating.

  Maybe I could…

  No. That would just be torturing myself. On the other hand, I’d been desperate for a way to reciprocate everything he’d been doing for me. This would be a tiny, tiny thing, but maybe it would soothe my conscience a little even while it drove my libido insane.

  I cleared my throat. “It’s been a while since I’ve used one of the apps.” I gestured at his phone. “But… I could help you set up your profile?”