by Amy Aislin
Cody got comfortable against Roman’s strong body. “You called me babe.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Roman said, but Cody could feel his satisfied grunt through his chest. “I know you guys don’t have the best relationship, but it can’t hurt to ask.”
Sighing, Cody stepped away and leaned back against the counter across from Roman. “I stopped asking my dad for things a long time ago. The answer’s always the same and I got tired of hearing no.”
“Ah.” Roman’s eyebrows lowered. “Don’t bite my head off for this,” he said, extending a socked foot to nudge Cody’s, “but rejection is a part of life.”
“I get that. I do.” Cody gripped the edge of the counter behind him. “But with my dad it’s always felt less like rejection and more like disinterest.”
“I can tell you just from the little I saw of you two together that your dad isn’t disinterested in you.”
Blowing out a breath on a groan, Cody stared at the ceiling. “You probably think I’m an ungrateful asshole.”
“Why?”
Cody waved at him, unable to form the words.
Nudging him again, Roman said, “Didn’t I tell you once that my problems don’t invalidate yours? The kind of relationship you have with your dad is up to you, but I can tell you that he loves you, just like I know you love him.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to put myself out there with him to hear no again.”
“You put yourself out there with me.”
“I . . .” Stumped, Cody could only stare at him. “It was less risk with you.”
“Because you knew I felt the same, even though I was fighting it?”
Cody crossed his arms. “Who’s the psych major here?”
“All I’m saying,” Roman began, coming nearer. He cupped Cody’s face and kissed his nose. Cody’s stomach flipped. “Is that if you don’t take the chance, you’ll never get the answer you want.” A kiss on the lips this time, fast and light. “Now. What are your thoughts on dessert?”
“Dessert?”
Sometimes, Roman had trouble believing that Cody was a real person. He didn’t let anything bring him down for long. He took risks. His smile was unfiltered and carefree. He cared deeply. And now, as he happily devoured chocolate chip cookies that Roman had made this morning, he made sounds deep in his throat that made Roman’s blood sing and his entire body clench.
Something about cooking for Cody and then having Cody so obviously enjoy it made warmth bloom in his chest.
He hadn’t lied when he’d told Cody that he once hadn’t had enough money for food; he just hadn’t told him everything. How would he even start that conversation? Hey, let me tell you about the time I was homeless. Cody was from the Hamptons. What would he think about Roman living out of his car for months?
Nothing. Well no, not nothing. He’d be saddened and sympathetic, and knowing Cody, he’d try and cheer Roman up by pointing out how far he’d come, never mind that Roman didn’t need cheering up.
Yet Roman still couldn’t find the words to tell someone what he’d never uttered aloud before. It was like by giving the words voice, he’d be giving them power—power to manifest and change his world again by repeating the past.
“You ready to go?”
“Go?” Cody asked. “Am I being kicked out?”
“No,” Roman said on a laugh. “I have something to show you, remember?”
“Oh. It’s not here?”
“We have to go outside to see it.” It could actually be seen from Roman’s tiny balcony, but it wasn’t the same.
“But it’s cold out.”
“You can bring the cookies.”
With a grin, Cody was up and off the barstool, and within a couple of minutes, they were ready to go. Cody snagged two cookies for the road and handed one to Roman once they reached the street. The sweet gesture made his steps falter, his heart skip.
“It’s not as cold now,” Cody said, stuffing his beanie back into his pocket.
“Yeah, the wind’s died down.”
They crossed the street in front of Roman’s building and followed the path to the Church Street Marketplace. There weren’t many people out in the dark of winter and with most of the shops closed, but there was the occasional pedestrian, a couple of dog walkers, and a handful of couples. Roman didn’t reach for Cody’s hand like he wanted to. And that tore something inside of him, a need he didn’t know he’d had until Cody had come into his life.
“What did you want to show— Oh, wow.” Cody drew the last word out to about six syllables. He reached up, standing on his toes to tap a colorful sphere lit up in hundreds of purple lights that hung from a tree. “I forgot the marketplace does a light festival in the winter.”
“You’ve seen it before?”
“Once,” Cody said as they walked on, slowly, because he couldn’t stop looking at everything. “In freshman year.”
He stood under a light canopy that spanned the entire width of the marketplace’s pedestrian walkway, the thousands of white lights adding a shimmer to his already glowing features and brightening his pale blue eyes, making them shine aqua. On first glance—and second and third and one hundredth—he looked like an angel lost on earth.
Roman’s throat closed, chest squeezing. Cody was magic. Everything about him was sparkly and unique and perfect, and Roman had been gone over him ever since Cody had given him his scarf.
He hadn’t stood a chance. Not against Cody’s fierce vitality.
Cody turned to him, his smile wide. “What do you think?”
“Huh?” Roman said, his voice gravel. “Sorry, I missed what you said.”
“I was saying we should grab a coffee at one of the coffee shops if we can find one that’s still open.”
“I’ll make us hot chocolate when we get back.”
“Yeah? Even better.”
They walked in silence, Cody reaching to tap all of the spheres he could reach. Some were purple, others turquoise, with a few pink ones in the mix. Each one made Cody grin, and every time he turned that grin on Roman, Roman’s entire body threatened to turn to mush.
This. This was why he’d brought Cody here. Because he’d wanted to give Cody something that would make him happy.
“This reminds me of home,” Roman said a few minutes later. “The town would light up downtown North Bay like this for Christmas.
“You don’t talk about home much.” Cody walked so close their arms brushed. “What’s it like?”
“It’s a city about the size of Burlington that sits on a lake much like Lake Champlain. Actually, it’s nestled between two lakes. Now that I’m thinking about it, Burlington and North Bay are pretty similar. Small cities that feel like towns, a lake, outdoorsy culture, trees everywhere, lots of nature.”
“You sound like you miss it.”
Did he? “I miss certain aspects of it. I miss walking to school with my friends. I miss going to the beach with them and boating with my parents.”
Cody bit his lip. With caution, he said, “You don’t talk about your parents much either.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Roman shrugged, his skin feeling too tight. “They never expected to have kids, so it was a surprise when my mom got pregnant. They were older when they had me, so they liked things a certain way. Not that they were overly strict, but they liked order and rules. They’re also extremely conservative. I knew if I ever came out to them, I wouldn’t have a home with them anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Roman.”
“It is what it is. How about you?” They passed under a red sphere that was a little too high for Cody to reach. It cast tiny red dots across his face. “Your parents don’t mind that you’re gay?”
“Oh, I’m not gay,” Cody said. “I’m demi.”
Demi. Cody was demisexual. Meaning he didn’t feel sexual attraction to anyone he didn’t have a deep emotional connection with. Roman’s heart jumped before he crushed down the hope. Cody was clearly romantically attracted to him, Rom
an had no question about it, just like he was romantically attracted to Cody. But for someone like Cody, sex was entirely different.
So. Okay. Roman had had high hopes for tonight’s activities, all of which had included lube and condoms and several orgasms. Cody’s demisexuality changed things, though, because he wouldn’t jump into bed with just anybody. Not that Roman wanted to be “just anybody” and God—how had he gone from talking about his parents to thinking about sex? One did not go with the other.
Although one was infinitely more fun.
Shaking his head, he refocused on the conversation.
“Demi,” Cody repeated with a side-eyed glance at Roman when Roman stayed silent too long. “Demisexual? It means—”
“I’m familiar with it.” Roman put his fantasies for tonight on the back burner. There’d be no sexual activities until Cody was damn good and ready, and Roman wasn’t going to pressure him. He was a grown-ass man; he could relieve himself . . . well . . . himself.
“Ah. Cool. Most people aren’t.”
At the top of Church Street, they turned and headed back the way they’d come.
“Anyway, my mom knows I’m demi and that I could one day bring a guy home. She doesn’t care. She’s always been on my side, no matter what. I told Dad when he visited last month.” Cody’s voice dipped. “I think he was okay with it?”
Roman squeezed his shoulder. “Unless he said otherwise, I’m sure he was.”
Relationships were, sometimes, clearer from an outside perspective. He understood where Cody’s caution stemmed from with his father, but from Roman’s very little time with them both, it was painfully obvious that Peter Evans was dying to know his son.
They were mostly silent on the walk back, taking in the lovely atmosphere and the quiet of the cloudless night.
Once back at the apartment, Roman took out everything he’d need for hot chocolate and got to work.
“Wait.” Cody opened the tin of chocolate. “You use actual chocolate pieces, not the powdered stuff?”
Roman frowned. “Powder? Hell no. If you’re gonna have hot chocolate, might as well do it right.”
“Marry me.”
It was said with such hopeful seriousness, Roman threw his head back and laughed.
“You know,” Cody said when the hot chocolates were poured into mugs and they were sitting on the couch. “The offer to move in still stands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Roman said. He ran a hand over Cody’s back when Cody leaned forward to place his mug on the coffee table. “If I ever decide to move out of this place.”
“Do you think you will?” Cody leaned back, and when he did, he snuggled into Roman’s side like he belonged there.
There Roman went again, turning into mush. “Not until the NHL makes a decision on whether or not they’re going to move the team to a more populated city.”
“They’re still talking about doing that? Even after that awesome winning streak?”
“Yeah. I doubt they’ll base their decision on a few won games. Besides, our winning streak got shot to hell last night.”
Badly. They’d become overconfident.
“Yeah, but that was going to happen eventually,” Cody said. “I keep telling you: shots on goal.”
“Ugh.” Roman rested his head against the back of the couch and blinked at the ceiling. “You’re hurting my head with all your shots-on-goal business.”
“You’re hurting my soul,” Cody volleyed back. “This is professional hockey, not some piddly game of golf.”
“Piddly? I like golf.”
Cody patted his chest. “You would.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a loner’s sport.” Cody sat up and tugged aside the collar of Roman’s shirt. “Not that you’re a loner. You just pretend you are.”
Wait, what? Also, “What are you doing?”
Now he was pulling up the right sleeve of Roman’s long-sleeved T-shirt. “I wanna see your tattoos.”
“What?”
“You’re always covered up, neck to fucking wrist.” Cody kept tugging. “Can I see just one?”
“Just one, huh?”
Placing his mug on the table, Roman leaned far enough away so that he didn’t smack Cody in the face, grabbed the back of his shirt with two hands, and pulled.
Cody sucked in a breath. Trailing his fingertips softly over Roman’s right arm, he traced over the series of interconnected tattoos. Roman sucked in his own breath, heart rate spiking. Where previously he’d been mush, now every part of him was alert.
This may have been a bad idea.
“They’re so beautiful,” Cody whispered. “What do they mean?”
Roman cleared desire from his throat. “They don’t really mean anything.” Flowers, soaring birds, mythological symbols, curlicues, books, important dates, like his first professional hockey game. “I got this done over a couple of years when I was in the ECHL, during a time when I needed something hopeful.”
“So you got something pretty to remind you life doesn’t always suck.”
Cody’s touch left goosebumps in its wake. “Yeah.”
Rising onto his knees, Cody pressed on the back of Roman’s shoulder, silently urging him to turn. Roman did so and swallowed a moan when Cody’s torturous fingers traced the tattoo on his back. His body erupted in chills. Hanging his head, he concentrated on breathing through the pleasure Cody didn’t appear to realize he was causing. His touch was like being tickled with a feather, if that feather was attached to a five-foot-ten blond hottie who was too good to be true.
“A sword,” Cody murmured. “Of course.”
Not just any sword. A giant fucking thing like in the fantasy novels he read, the kind that slayed dragons and demons and rescued the people and saved the day. The point was at his lower back and the blade rose up his spine. The guard covered his shoulders, the handle rose up his neck, and the pommel was nestled at the base of his skull.
Roman locked his muscles to suppress a shiver as Cody’s fingers trailed up his spine. “To remind you that you can take on the world,” Cody said, “and win.”
“Goddamn psychology majors.”
Cody’s laugh was light and airy. His arms came around Roman’s shoulders, and he pecked a series of small kisses along his shoulders.
Out of nowhere, Cody said, “I brought towels.”
“You . . .” Turning around to face him, all Roman could come up with was, “What?”
“Towels.”
“Are we going swimming?”
Another laugh from Cody. “No. For the sex.”
Every thought fled Roman’s brain. “Uh . . .”
“Because sex is messy.”
“Uh . . .” His blood pulsed in his ears. “Are we having sex?”
“Aren’t we? Bummer. Can we do it next time then?”
Roman started to laugh. “God.” He scrubbed his face. “How are you a real person?”
Head tilting, Cody’s face scrunched in thought. “I don’t understand the question? Can I have more cookies if we’re not having sex?”
“Get over here.” Roman hauled Cody to him. Their smiling lips met, and Cody chuckled into his mouth when he fell back onto the couch, taking Cody with him.
Roman tasted chocolate on Cody’s tongue. Chocolate and eagerness. Cupping his face, Roman pulled back slightly. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Cody’s brow furrowed. “Do you not want to?”
“Oh, I want to.” Hips lifting, Roman rubbed the evidence of how much he wanted to against Cody. Cody groaned and tucked his head in Roman’s neck. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“Pretty sure I’m the one doing the pressuring.” Cody rolled his hips.
“Jesus.” Roman’s eyes rolled back at the contact. “I want you to be sure.”
“Roman.” Head lifting on a sigh, Cody stared at him. “Why are you acting like I don’t know what I want? Besides, I brought the to
wels, didn’t I?”
Roman kissed him quick. “You know I have towels, right?”
“Seemed polite to bring my own,” Cody said with perhaps the first blush Roman had ever seen on him. Avoiding Roman’s eyes, he ran a finger along Roman’s shoulder.
Fuck, he was cute.
Roman gave him a little pat on the butt. “Okay, up. I’m not having sex on a couch my ass will stick to.”
Cody rose with a little hop and Roman followed suit. “Oh, look.” Cody’s warm hands landed on Roman’s chest. “One of us is already half-naked. How fortuitous.”
Laughing, Roman towed Cody into the bedroom. The last time he’d laughed this much with someone before a sexual encounter was never. He did sex, not emotional attachment.
Except this time. Because Cody was worth being vulnerable for.
“Still want those cookies?” Roman asked, walking backward into the bedroom.
Walking right into him, Cody said, “Maybe not right this second,” and kissed him stupid.
And stupid was exactly what he became as they undressed, as they made out on top of the covers, as Cody removed his glasses and set them on the night table with a muttered, “I’m so hot they’re fogging up,” making Roman downright fucking giggle around Cody’s nipple. And stupid was what he called himself when they were both sweating and panting and swearing and he realized he’d forgotten lube and a condom.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
“As if I could.” Cody was sprawled on the bed, erection in one fist, jerking himself off slowly. “I’ll just blink unseeing at the ceiling.”
“Can you not see it?” Roman dug in his bathroom drawers, his own erection bobbing in front of him.
“I can see it. It’s just really blurry. You’re blurry.” Cody waved a hand at him when he stepped out of the bathroom. “You don’t have any features. You could be looking past me at the window and I wouldn’t know it.”
“Really? So you can’t see me do this?” Standing at the foot of the bed, lube and condom in one hand, Roman dragged the other over his own hip, his stomach, lower to the dark patch of hair.