Role Model

by Rachel Reid

  “I figure there probably weren’t any homophobes at that show,” Troy said. “So if anyone saw us, they’d be, y’know. Cool about it.”

  Harris kissed him, touched by this small but significant act of bravery, then said, “At worst they’d be jealous. Of you, I mean. Obviously.”

  Troy laughed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close so Harris’s head was resting on his chest. “I want to take you somewhere. Another date.”

  Harris beamed. “I’d like that.”

  Troy kissed the top of his head. “When?”

  “I’m working this weekend. All-Star game and all that. But it’s quiet at work for the rest of the week because of the break.”

  “Okay. I’ll think about it over the weekend. It’ll be epic. Best date ever.” Troy kissed him quickly and said, “I should, um, deal with the condom and stuff. But you’ll stay tonight, right?”

  Harris rolled to his back and stretched his arms out. “Buddy, I might never move again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Troy: Can our date start Tuesday morning and end Wednesday afternoon?

  The text had been left unanswered for twenty minutes, and Troy was milliseconds away from calling Harris when he finally saw the three dots.

  Harris: Sounds like a hell of a date.

  Troy smiled and wrote, It’s going to be amazing. And it’s a surprise, so don’t ask.

  Harris: Do I need to pack anything?

  Troy: Is that a yes?

  Harris: I’m curious now! Of course it’s a yes!

  Alone in his apartment, Troy pumped his fist triumphantly. Since Harris had left on Saturday morning, Troy had been frantically trying to think of the perfect date to take him on. He wanted it to not only be something that Harris would enjoy, but something that would give him a real break from work. Something that would allow Troy to take care of him.

  They had never discussed the fact that Troy was a millionaire, but Troy got the impression that Harris wasn’t interested in fancy restaurants or lavish gifts. Troy still wanted to spoil him a little, though.

  Then he’d gotten an idea. It took some internet searching, but Troy found the perfect place: a spa retreat in Quebec, less than two hours away, that had private chalets. He knew it was a long shot when he’d called, because it was extremely short notice, but he’d gotten lucky: there had been a last-minute cancellation. The woman he’d spoken to had apologetically told him that he would have to book the exact same package that had been canceled, and Troy had laughed when she’d told him what it was.

  The Lovebird Getaway.

  She hadn’t sounded the least bit surprised or offended when Troy had given her Harris’s name as the second guest. It was the first time Troy had ever indicated his sexuality to a stranger, and, once the butterflies in his stomach had calmed down, he’d felt a wave of relief surge through him. He’d booked a romantic getaway for himself and his boyfriend, and it was fine. He’d used his real name and everything.

  Troy: Pack a bathing suit and comfy clothes.

  Harris: How am I supposed to tweet about the All-Star Game now?

  Troy had, wonderfully, forgotten about the All-Star game. He decided to leave Harris alone for now, and wrote: I’ll pick you up at 10am on Tuesday.

  Harris replied with a string of excited-face emojis.

  * * *

  “Oh my god,” Harris squeaked.

  “Okay, so the thing is—”

  “Oh my god. I have dreamed of coming to this place.”

  Troy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at Harris’s excitement as he took in the stunning interior of the main lodge. “I was only able to book it on short notice because someone canceled, so I had to book the same package they had.”

  “Unless it was the You Have to go Home Immediately package, I don’t care.”

  “It’s the Lovebird Getaway. So it might be a bit...much.”

  Harris’s eyes went even wider. “Is this our honeymoon?”

  Troy elbowed him. “Calm down.”

  He went to the desk and got them checked in. The woman working there turned out to be the same woman he’d spoken to on the phone, Cora.

  “Our last-minute lovebirds,” she said warmly in her Quebecois accent. “You can leave your bags here, and we will bring them to your cabin. Just take your bathing suits out first, and you will start your day with a soak in our hot tub.”

  Harris was bouncing on his toes, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. As a pro athlete, hot tubs, saunas and steam rooms were an almost daily necessity for Troy, but he had a feeling this would be a more enjoyable soaking experience than most.

  They were led to a change room with lockers and left alone to put on their bathing suits. “So far this is a lot like a typical day at work,” Troy said. “Hot tub, locker room.”

  “So far this is the best day of my life, so shush.”

  One thing that was different about this locker room and the ones Troy was normally in was that this time he openly ogled the man who was undressing next to him.

  “Already?” Harris teased when he noticed Troy’s semi-erect cock.

  “I missed you.”

  Harris pulled his swim trunks up, then wrapped his arms around Troy’s neck. “I missed you too.” He kissed him, and Troy wondered how important it was that they did any of the spa treatments. The cabin had a bed that could probably provide all the relaxation and rejuvenation Troy needed.

  But Harris looked so damn happy. And adorable, now that he was bundling himself into the fluffy white bathrobe the spa had provided.

  There were some medical forms that they both needed to fill out. Troy finished his quickly, and it occurred to him that Harris might have more boxes to check.

  “There’s nothing here that’s unsafe for you, is there?” Troy asked.

  “Not unless we’re skydiving.”

  Troy huffed. “God, I hope not.”

  Harris kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I think I’m safe then. I need to be careful about the hot tub, but I’m fine with them if I don’t stay in too long. Let’s go get pampered!”

  The hot tub room was fancy as hell. The tub itself was the size of a small swimming pool, recessed into the dark granite floor. The lighting was dim and dramatic, and soft music reverberated off the stone walls.

  “Wow,” Harris whispered. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome.”

  “Yeah. This is not my usual hot tub.”

  They removed their robes and stepped into the hot water. Harris moaned as soon as he got himself seated, the echo of it bouncing off the walls. “Oh man. This is the best.”

  Troy grinned and sat next to him in the same corner. “Soaking in hot water rules.”

  “Mm.” Harris closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “My body isn’t going to know what hit it. I never treat it this well.”

  “You work too hard.”

  Harris scoffed. “Compared to you? Hardly.”

  “Well, how about we make our time here hockey-free?”

  Harris smiled without opening his eyes. “Sounds perfect.”

  His skin was already deep pink from the hot water, and it made the white line of his scar stand out more. Troy tried not to stare at it, but he couldn’t help but worry about the heart behind it.

  “Still beating,” Harris said mildly. Troy noticed that his eyes had opened, and he flooded with embarrassment.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t staring.”

  Harris brushed his foot against Troy’s. “Yes you were. It’s okay. I get it. That’s why I don’t lounge around in a bathing suit very often.”

  “I’m sorry,” Troy said again. He wanted to tell him he didn’t need to hide his scars, but he was the last person who should be telling someone not to hide. Instead, he reached under the water and pulled Harris’s foot onto his lap. He lightly ca
ressed the hills and valleys of his ankle.

  Harris sighed happily. “Do I get a massage before my massage?”

  “I just want to touch you.”

  Harris’s eyes went a little gooey. “Are you nervous, being here with me?”

  “No,” Troy said, then corrected himself. “Not as nervous as I thought I’d be anyway.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I mean, there’s nothing to hide at this point. We’re two men enjoying a couple’s retreat at a romantic spa. No one can misinterpret that. There’s something freeing about having that worry taken away.”

  Harris inched a little closer to him. “That’s true.”

  “Was it scary for you, when you came out?”

  “Of course. Even when you’re sure your friends and family will be cool and supportive, it’s still scary. But most of my fear was, like you said, around the possibility of someone finding out my secret. Once it wasn’t a secret anymore, I didn’t have to worry about that.”

  “I’d like to know how that feels. I’ve been fucking terrified my whole life that someone would find out. I didn’t touch another man until Adrian, when I was twenty-three. So if I’m doing anything wrong in bed, that’s my excuse.”

  “You’re definitely not doing anything wrong in bed, stud.”

  Troy smiled and ran his palm up Harris’s shin, then back down. When his hand returned to Harris’s knee, Harris, gave a shaky laugh and said, “Don’t go any higher or I’m going to have an awkward time leaving the bath.”

  Troy’s own dick perked up. He wished he could haul Harris out of the water and take him right here on the fancy stone tiles. He would love to hear Harris’s moans echoing in the quiet, cavernous room. “Is this too high?” he asked, walking his fingers up Harris’s thigh.

  Harris swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. I mean it. Don’t make this weird for the poor staff.”

  “Serves them right for making this place so sexy.”

  Harris grinned and sank deeper into the water, retrieving his leg from Troy’s lap. “It is sexy. But I can wait until we’re in our cabin. The waiting makes it sexier, right?”

  “You know, we don’t have to get the massages...”

  “No way, superstar. Some of us don’t get daily rubdowns. I haven’t had a massage in ages.”

  “Fine.”

  “And Troy?”

  “Mm?”

  “This is already the best date I’ve ever been on.”

  Troy’s heart flipped. “Me too.”

  * * *

  The hot stone massage turned out to be far more enjoyable than the often painful deep tissue massages Troy got from the team therapist. It also had more loud, filthy moaning than Troy was used to. All of it from the table next to his, and all of it making it very difficult for Troy to relax.

  “Unf. Why don’t I always have hot stones on my back?” Harris said, his words sleepy and slurred with pleasure.

  Both of the massage therapists were laughing. Harris had barely shut up the entire massage. Troy had been mostly silent, since he was entirely focused on not getting a boner, but he was grinning into his face rest. He’d never expected to be so charmed by such an unrepentant goofball.

  Lunch was served in a private room where they ate healthy and delicious grain bowls and drank fresh-pressed juice in their bathrobes. It felt decadent, even with the high nutritional value.

  After lunch, they had some procedures that were as exciting to Troy as they were to Harris: facials, followed by manicures and pedicures. Troy had always taken care of his skin—he had often been roasted by Dallas Kent for his daily regimen when they’d roomed together. But Dallas’s forehead was always covered in helmet acne, so fuck him.

  Again, Harris had all of the practitioners laughing while Troy sat silent, smiling as he continued to fall hard for the walking ray of sunshine he’d managed to snag for himself.

  The day finished with one more soak in the hot tub, and then showers before putting their clothes back on.

  “I hate wearing clothes,” Harris complained. “Now that I know how good a day spent in a bathrobe can be, clothes feel like prison.”

  “It’s just until we get to the cabin,” Troy assured him. “We can order room service for dinner.”

  Harris kissed him, then grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the change room. “This date keeps getting better.”

  * * *

  The new person at the front desk directed them to their cabin. It was a short, scenic walk through snow-covered evergreen trees to their tiny log cabin, and Harris loved it immediately.

  “It’s so cute!” He squeezed Troy’s hand. “Too bad we’re going to destroy it.”

  Troy chuckled. “Maybe I have other plans.”

  “No way. You promised sex and naked eating.”

  The cabin interior was even more charming than the outside. There was a woodstove in one corner, with a small stack of firewood next to it. A leather couch and chair faced it because there was no television. Harris was fine with that; he’d left his phone in a locker all day and he was happy to continue his break from screens.

  There were cozy blankets neatly folded on the furniture, and a thick, soft rug in front of the stove. It was absurdly romantic.

  Things got even more romantic in the bedroom. The bed had a welcome basket with chocolates, fresh fruit, an assortment of teas, and two of the spa robes rolled up. There was a bouquet of roses on the dresser, and an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne on the nightstand.

  “Oh my god, I feel like a princess!” Harris started poking through the basket immediately. “Chocolate-covered strawberries!”

  “It’s a bit much.”

  “No, I love it. I’m going to feed these to you later.”

  Troy stepped close behind him and kissed his neck. “I could eat now.”

  Harris turned and kissed him. This time they let it linger, Troy tipping Harris’s head back slightly so he could kiss him as deeply and thoroughly as he’d been wanting to all day.

  “Robes?” Harris said huskily when they broke apart.

  “Robes,” Troy agreed.

  Within twenty minutes, they had a fire built in the stove, and were lounging on the rug with flutes of cold champagne and a coffee table full of treats.

  “All we need is a dog,” Harris mused.

  “How would a dog make this better?”

  “Dogs make everything better.”

  Troy leaned in and kissed him as he ran a hand up Harris’s thigh, under the hem of the bathrobe. “Not everything,” he said in a low, seductive voice.

  And, no. Not everything.

  Harris plucked one of the strawberries from the coffee table and hovered it in front of Troy’s lips. Troy smiled and opened, taking the berry in his mouth and closing his lips around Harris’s fingers.

  It actually wasn’t as sexy as Harris was hoping. He had to remove his fingers so Troy could chew the slightly-too-big berry that was making his cheeks bulge. Once Troy swallowed, he coughed and said, “That was a sour strawberry.”

  “Was the chocolate good?”

  “Could’ve used more of it.” Troy took a gulp of champagne.

  Harris laughed. “Sorry. I thought it would be, y’know, sensual.”

  “I have an idea.” Troy set his flute on the table. “How about I lay you out on that rug and kiss every inch of you?”

  Harris immediately tipped backward on the rug, arms and legs spread wide. “I’m in.”

  He thought Troy would pounce on him, but instead he sprawled out on his side next to him, gazing at him with those piercing blue eyes. Harris almost squirmed under the scrutiny, but then Troy gently placed a hand on the side of Harris’s face and kissed him.

  He kept kissing him. He kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his eyebrow. His soft lips teased the shell of Harris�
��s ear, and down to his throat. Each kiss was soft and unhurried, savoring Harris like fine whiskey.

  He didn’t even notice Troy untying the belt of his bathrobe until it fell open. Troy positioned himself between Harris’s spread legs, kneeling as he trailed his fingertips over Harris’s chest and stomach. The gentle brush against his skin was almost ticklish, but it also sent delicious shivers through him.

  For an eternity, Troy didn’t do anything except caress Harris’s skin. His fingers explored everywhere—torso, legs, arms, throat, face. Everywhere except Harris’s now rigid cock. Harris just lay there like a puddle of mush, perfectly relaxed and blissful after a day at the spa with the man he—

  The man he definitely had some significant feelings for.

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Harris said dreamily, “but I’m a bit aroused.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Okay. Just making sure.”

  Troy’s lip curved up in one corner, then he pulled one of Harris’s hands to his lips and kissed his palm.

  “Little lower,” Harris quipped.

  Troy kissed the inside of his wrist.

  “Meanie,” Harris grumbled.

  A low rumble of laughter shook Troy’s shoulders, then he lowered his head and snatched Harris’s right nipple between his teeth.

  “Getting warmer,” Harris sighed. He watched Troy as he kissed a path across his chest, over his scar, to his left nipple. God, Troy was beautiful. He was always beautiful, but now, in the glow of the firelight and with Harris’s brain fizzy with champagne and lust, he was breathtaking.

  And if he wanted to spend the rest of the night tormenting Harris with soft kisses, well, Harris shouldn’t complain.

  Eventually, however, Harris had to complain.

  “You’re gonna kill me,” he said raggedly.

  “Shh. Let me take care of you my way.”

  “Your way is torture.”

  Troy chuckled against Harris’s inner thigh, sending ripples of pleasure up to his balls.