Page 51 of Ethan

Hank was still smiling at him. “Imagine seeing you here,” he said.

The guy was hot, sure, and Ethan definitely liked that about him. But he was funny too. Dry and sarcastic and snarky. Made Ethan feel like he had to work a little to keep up with him—to make Hank laugh the same wayhemade Ethan laugh. And he liked that so goddamn much.

“I was beginning to wonder if I should send out a search party,” Ethan joked. “Felt like everyone else was already there, in the locker room.”

“Then what tookyouso long?” The corner of Hank’s mouth tilted up. “Maybe I should’ve been sending out a search party foryou.”

And oh.Oh.Hank had come in here because he’d thought Ethan would come here first, right after changing. Something warm bloomed inside Ethan’s chest as they gazed at each other.

It was just like one of their FaceTime calls, except now it was real. Hank was flesh and blood, right there, in front of him.

And if Ethan was brave, he could reach out and touch Hank. Reach out and take everything he was beginning to believe they both wanted.

“Well, I’m here now,” Ethan said. He didn’t do anything he was thinking about, because it was the first day, the firstminutereally, and he could see how they were both still feeling out how this would work, them both in the same city, the same zip code, the sameroom.

Hank grinned. “Yeah, you are.” His feet slowed on the pedals even more and before Ethan could say anything else, he slipped off the bike and tugged Ethan into a hug.

For a second, Ethan justfelt. The warm broadness of Hank’s body, the closeness of it, and how his head managed to tuck right under Hank’s chin. He’d never been that happy about his six-foot height before—always wanted to be that inch or two taller—but now he could see the advantage. Hank smelled good—like something fresh and green and also a little like his own sweat, and it lit Ethan up, pinging all his nerves. Even nerves he would rathernotbe pinged, right now, in the middle of the Bandits’ practice facility gym.

“Took you long enough for that too,” Hank said, pulling away and letting go.

Ethan felt a tiny pulse of disappointment that was quickly swamped by the realization that whatever they’d just shared, it wasn’t the standard hockey bro hug. Not even close.

Then there was the smug look on Hank’s face, like it had been just as good for him.

“Just, you were . . . um, on the bike and everything.” Ethan knew usually he was the confident and sure one. Usually, though, everything he felt confident and sure about didn’t matter—or theydid, justless. Because he was beginning to wonder if Hank was one of themostimportant things.

Hank raised a questioning eyebrow. “And? I haven’t seen you ina year. You were really gonna let a bike get between us?” He was clearly teasing Ethan; enjoying every moment if Ethan was going to use the amusement brimming in his hazel eyes as an indication.

“Shut up,” Ethan said, shoving him a little. Hank laughed, and shoved him back, and suddenly it was like it had been between them, a year ago. Casual and easy.

“You said it, not me,” Hank said.

“I’m gonna um . . . go stretch?” Ethan said. Because he needed to. Even though the last thing he actually wanted was to leave Hank, even though it was only the other side of the room.

Hank nodded, getting back on the bike, his face taking on a much more serious cast. Like he was locking in. Getting prepped to give everything in the next few days to make sure he’d make it.

And Ethan should be doing that too.

Because if it was how he wanted it to be, if it ended up like he thought it would, then they’d get so much time together. Road trips and home stands and so many practices. An almost endless amount of time stretched out in front of them.

That was the reassuring thought that propelled Ethan over to the mat, where he began to stretch out, getting ready for practice.

Hank did ten minutes more on the bike, his pale face beginning to flush with exertion. At least that was why Ethan told himself it was happening, every time he glanced over at him. And if he kept doing it? Well, he was only human, okay? And Hank looked likethat. Strong and tall and built. Ethan deepeneda stretch as he watched the pink creep up Hank’s cheeks, because somehow that was even hotter.

He might be even more into Hank’s pale skin and auburn hair than he was his biceps or his abs or his fucking incredible thighs.

Ugh,Hank’s thighs.

Ethan leaned even harder into the stretch, trying not to flick his eyes up to them again, as Hank walked towards him, his shorts bunching up slightly.

“You almost done?” Hank asked, leaning in. Brushing a hand over Ethan’s back. Ethan tried not to flinchorlean into it. Tried to act like it was just a normal touch, even though it didn’t feel like any normal touch Ethan had ever experienced. Warmth from Hank’s hand raced over his skin, making every nerve prickle with awareness.

“Yeah, I am,” Ethan said with a nod.

He half expected Hank to withdraw his hand, and head out without him. They didn’t need to shadow each other, even if Ethan kindawantedto.

But Hank didn’t leave and he didn’t move his hand either. It stayed, his hand a firm and steady pressure as Ethan finished his last stretch. Hank didn’t even move it as he straightened, offering his other free hand to him to let him up.