"Sit," Seg commanded. "Food's done. I have to head over to the rink for practice in a bit."
Roan watched the sexy man in his kitchen. Seg was wearing his slacks, but he was shirtless-probably removed it when Liam spit up on him. There wasn't a single thing that marred his beautiful body. All sleek, smooth skin covering hard, toned muscle. He was a sight for sore eyes, someone Roan never imagined would be making him breakfast. Yes, his thoughts seemed to be on a repetitive loop, but he couldn't help it.
"Let me guess," Seg said as he set the plates on the table. "You didn't think a hockey player could cook either."
Roan grinned. He might've been thinking that, sure.
"My mother insisted that I know how to cook," Seg explained. "I think she knew I'd be a long way from home at some point, and if I didn't know how to cook, I wouldn't eat."
"You could always grab food out."
"And I do. Sometimes. I don't do fast food. Ever. And since that's all I have time for most days, I've learned how to make my own meals. Of course, I cheat. I've got a housekeeper who's sweet as pie and makes me meals that I can pop in the microwave. Quick and easy. Nothing fancy. Although I make some mean brownies."
"Good to know."
Seg sat down in the seat across from Roan. "I have to head out of town tomorrow. We've got away games-two in a row. Sunday, then Tuesday. But then I'll be back for the game here on Thursday. Wondered if maybe the three of us could do something next weekend."
"The three of us?" Roan glanced at Liam, noticing the baby was gnawing on his fist, staring at Seg.
"I know he's not up for miniature golf or anything like that, but surely there's something we can do. That or I'm happy to come over here. Of course, the two of you could come to my place."
Roan swallowed hard. He wanted to do all of those things with Seg. Again, fear inched its way into his veins.
Seg reached over and touched his hand. "If I'm moving too fast, say something, Roan. Don't leave me hanging and don't run. I want this. I want you. Just give me a chance."
"You're willing to go out in public?" Roan asked, picking up his fork.
Seg shrugged. "I'm not going to think too hard on it."
Roan appreciated that Seg was willing to go that far for him, but he didn't want to put the man in that position. "It might be easier for you to come here," he mentioned. "Or we'll come to you."
Seg smiled. "Thank you."
And just like that, Roan found himself wondering if this was what a relationship felt like.
Fifteen
One week later …
SEG'S FOCUS WAS SPOT ON.
He didn't know what it was, but he was driven in a way he'd never been before. Maybe it was because Roan had texted before the game and told him good luck. That had sent a strange sensation soaring through his entire body, one that was still there, still coursing in his veins. It was similar to the feeling he'd gotten when he made his first goal in the NHL.
"How's the finger?" Coach asked when Seg took the bench.
"Fine." He hadn't thought about it once. The trainer had wrapped it before he'd gloved-up, and that probably helped immensely.
"Keep it up, Seg."
He nodded, watching the play on the ice, thankful for short shifts because he wanted to be back out there. His muscles hummed with adrenaline; his need to get to his feet was powerful. But he kept his ass glued to the bench, watching, waiting.
He briefly wondered if Liam was wearing his jersey tonight. He knew that Roan would be watching the game at home because he'd told him he would. So, Seg had gotten online and ordered Liam a jersey-he'd been surprised to find someone who made them that small-and had it rush delivered so Liam would have it tonight. Of course, he hadn't been able to resist ordering one for Roan, wanting the man to be wearing his name, too.
It was surprising how much Seg missed Liam and Roan. He wished the team was playing at home so he'd be able to go see them tonight. He hadn't seen them since last Friday morning and now he wanted to more than anything.
"Kaufman, Benne, Valeri," the assistant coach called from behind him. "Seg and Crosby."
Seg was up on his skates and out on the ice in a flash, trading places with the other defenseman like they'd choreographed it. He managed to get in position in front of Kingston, gearing up to keep Chicago's forwards from getting close enough to get a goal. He loved this shit, had since he was a little boy. His dad used to take him out to the pond to play, ever since he was big enough to put on skates.
He was pretty sure that pond was the reason his parents had bought the house. Since his father played-as a hobby-he imagined it had been a huge draw. Growing up, Seg remembered being out there for hours, having fun, enjoying the time he spent with his father.