Page 46 of Hard Check
Or was it that he was scared they’d encourage him to spread his wings?
Dawson swallowed hard at the thought. What if Leo was right and he kept his desires locked up inside because it was easier than taking a chance?
At some point, Leo’s hand landed on Dawson’s thigh. When the conversation moved on, the hand didn’t. They stayed until the bartender started stacking chairs.
They drove home in the dark. Leo nodded off not long after they got on the highway, his head against the window, breath fogging a circle on the glass.
Dawson glanced over. He couldn’t help it. The highway was empty, the cab was quiet, and Leo’s face in the dashboard light was something Dawson couldn’t look away from. His jaw, the way his hair had come loose over the course of the day. His hands open in his lap, still for once. This was what Leo looked like when he wasn’t filling a room.
He should let him sleep. They were only a couple of weeks into the season, but Leo had been running hard between games, travel, practices, and now a full day in Milwaukee on top of it.
Dawson reached across the console and put his hand on Leo’s thigh. Light. Not enough to wake him. Leo shifted in his sleep, turned his head toward Dawson, and settled again.
Dawson left his hand there for the rest of the drive.
Dawson pulled into the lot behind Leo’s apartment and put the truck in park. Leo stirred, blinked, and sat up like he didn’t know where he was for a second.
“Did I fall asleep?” His voice was rough. He rubbed his face with one hand and looked around. “Sorry. That’s embarrassing.”
“You needed it.”
Leo turned to him. The streetlight through the windshield caught one side of his face. His hair was wrecked from sleeping against the glass, and he looked so good it made Dawson’s chest hurt.
“Today was good,” Leo said. Not casual. He was watching Dawson like he was making sure it landed.
“Yeah. It was.”
Leo didn’t move to get out. Dawson didn’t move to rush him. The truck was still running, the heater pushing warm air between them, and the silence had a weight neither of them was breaking.
Leo leaned across the console. His hand found the side of Dawson’s neck, thumb against his jaw, and kissed him. Not quick this time. Slow, warm, his mouth still soft from sleep. Dawson’s hand came up and gripped Leo’s jacket at the hip without deciding to, pulling him closer. Leo made a sound against his mouth—quiet, almost nothing—and Dawson felt it in his whole body.
Leo pulled back just far enough to look at him. His hand was still on Dawson’s neck. “You could come up.”
Dawson wanted to. The want was so sharp it sat behind his teeth. Leo’s apartment, Leo’s door closing behind them, Leo’s hands somewhere other than his neck. He could see all of it.
“I should get home,” he said.
Leo held his eyes for a second. Then nodded, squeezed the back of Dawson’s neck once, and got out. He took the stairs two at a time. The apartment light came on.
Dawson sat in the truck with the engine running and didn’t pull away until the light in the window went off. He could still feel the kiss on his mouth, the grip of Leo’s fingers on his neck.
When he got home, Ethan was on the couch watching TV.
“Where’ve you been?” Ethan asked without looking up.
“Milwaukee. Errands.”
“Errands.” Ethan snorted. “Since when do you run errands in Milwaukee?”
“Since today.”
Ethan looked at him, then back at the TV. “You want a beer? There’s a couple in the fridge.”
“I’m good.” Dawson hung his jacket on the hook by the door. The house was warm, the TV was on, and Ethan was already back to the highlights. Everything exactly where it always was. Dawson stood there for a second longer than he should have, his keys still in his hand, thinking about Leo’s apartment and the door he hadn’t walked through.
Leo had offered. Dawson had pulled away anyway, the way he’d been doing his whole life. That man made it hard to live with the status quo.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
