Page 52 of Tough Call

Be there soon.

CHAPTER 17

MADARS

Standing outside baggage claim at the Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport, I was as restless as I’d been those nights in the Ellis house when I was a teenager. When I was listening to the house wind down, waiting for the last of the lights to go out, and then either stealthily making my way across the hall or listening for the faint sound of Connor coming into my room. Or when we were slipping off from our hotels in Prague for whatever time together our frenetic schedules allowed.

This time, though, we weren’t sneaking into a bedroom to make out for a little while or ducking into an alley for a hot kiss. We were adults, and there was no international hockey competition going on. Connor was arriving in broad daylight, and we had the next few weeks to ourselves to do a whole lot more than make out.

I couldn’t wait for that part, but also just having him here. With me. The constant texting and FaceTiming just hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been part of my life since major juniors, but from the moment we’d reconnected, it was like he’d become a fixture in my world. He’d kept me sane through the surgery and rehab, and he’d been a bright spot when everything around my career seemed so bleak. At the same time, the last few months of only being able to connect electronically had been driving me out of my mind.

And today…

Finally…

There.

The frosted glass automatic doors opened, and there he was, walking out with a backpack over his shoulder and a pair of suitcases rolling behind him. His red hair was a little longer now, just starting to curl above his collar, and that tired, sweet smile almost made me swoon.

Oh my God. You’re here. You’re really here.

He really was, and no matter how tempting it was to finally have that kiss I’d been craving, I just pulled him into a hug instead. As queer-friendly as Spain was, and even after I’d watched two men share a kiss here just twenty minutes ago, I still hesitated to be publicly affectionate with a man. Old habits and all that.

Holding him closer, I whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He stroked a hand over my hair, and as he drew back, he added, “I’m probably going to pass out when we get to the hotel.”

“That’s okay. It’s not far from here.” I gestured at his rolling suitcases. “Let me take those.”

Connor hesitated. “Is your knee⁠—”

“They’re rolling bags.” I nudged his hand off the handle of one, then the other. “My knee is fine.” As we started walking, I added, “I’ve been skating for weeks now. I can handle dragging a couple of bags.”

“I mean, if you insist.” He gestured at the backpack strap. “Want to carry this one too?”

“You want me to?”

“No, no.” He laughed. “I’m joking. Though…” He gestured at the suitcases. “I feel like I overpacked. I never travel with this much.”

“But you brought your gear, right? That takes up a lot of space.”

“True. I think most of that one”—he nodded toward the bigger of the two bags—“is hockey gear.”

“See? So you didn’t overpack. And you can borrow my sticks.”

He turned a tired but playful smirk on me.

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him. “Come on.” I nodded toward the doors leading out to the taxi stands. “We’ll get a cab back to the hotel.”

“Will there be enough room for all this?”

“Of course.”

He nodded, apparently taking my word for it. “You rented a car, though, didn’t you? Or did you just not want to drive to the airport?” He grimaced. “I wouldn’t blame you for that.”

“The car is back at the train station in Sevilla. We’re staying at a hotel here in Madrid tonight, and we’ll take the train to Sevilla tomorrow.”

Connor nodded again, but his brow furrowed slightly. “Wasn’t there a flight from here to where we’re staying, though? That would’ve made things easier for you, wouldn’t it?”