Page 4 of Crease Collision

I stand and point up the stairs. “That way.” Taking my ball and glove, I follow him up to the concourse.

He turns and says, “Now that we are here, I do not want beer. How about fika?”

“Fee-what?” I ask, loving how his face lights up. For the record, I know what fika is, but I like his accent so much I hope he’ll say it again.

“Fika. A coffee break. But a baseball arena may not be the best place for that.”

“Stadiums. Baseball has stadiums. Or ballparks.”

“So…” His lips twitch. “I guess the coffee is not so good in baseball stadiums.”

“Look at you, catching on fast.”

“I am an excellent student, tutor.” He leans in until our arms touch. “Did you want to stay for the rest of the game?”

I shake my head. “I’m more interested in other games.”

“Me too. Shall we find somewhere to play?”

“Exit’s this way.” I’m already walking toward it.

This is probably a bad idea, but I don’t care. Not when something inside me is saying I shouldn’t let him walk away.

CHAPTER TWO

OSKAR

The cab ride from Hudson Yards to Kai’s building does not take long. On the way inside, I barely notice the lobby because we keep bumping hands. Every touch is like a live wire.

“Cameras in here,” he says as we step into the elevator.

There are only two doors on the thirty-fourth floor. He unlocks one, and I follow him inside. Sunlight pours in through the windows across the room, and I catch a glimpse of the river below. Everything fades away when Kai turns to face me.

He is well-built, obviously no stranger to the gym, but I am slightly taller than he is. His hair is a mess. Light brown, maybe dark blond in the right light, falling forward in loose waves. One piece curls low on his forehead.

My gaze finds his eyes, and I step forward for a closer look. They are very blue, clear in a way that doesn’t seem real. My heart flutters when I realize they are holding me in place.

Damn. This could be more than I meant to walk into.

His lips are full and slightly parted. I try to look away, but the pull is already there.

Vad fan?

This is too close, too much, but I don’t step back. I don’t even think about it.

His plump lips are pouty enough to make me a little hard, imagining what they could do. It shouldn’t matter.

Fan.

It matters.

Heat pools low in my stomach. I move before I think, closing the last of the space between us. I raise my hands and cup his cheeks. When he wraps his arms around me, something in my chest gives way.

Waiting is for cowards, so I kiss him. Our lips meet briefly, and then I pull away.

Not enough. Not even close.

I kiss him again, harder this time, opening his mouth with mine. The low sound he makes goes straight to my dick. I work my fingers into his hair and angle his head. The kiss turns rougher, and his mouth gives. The heat builds quickly.