Let's Do This

by Loren Leigh

His eyes darken into a deep, vivid brown. And holy hell, I’ve never seen that look on him before. I doubt he even realizes that it happened, but it’s so . . . potent. Like ball-squeezing intensity.

My whole life I’ve struggled with what’s going on in my head. The first time I felt any kind of attraction, it was to this guy I played hockey with back in high school, but it never felt solid.

But here. Now. It’s all so deeply different. It’s tangible. Standing right in front of me. It’s the scratch in his whispered voice. His height and breadth, his shoulders arcing down into his hips, the easy plant of his feet. It’s who he is, that tease of his smile and lilt in his tone when he says my name.

He’s so fuckin’ beautiful that it makes my chest ache.

“What’s, uh.” My voice is rough, cracking with uncertainty. “What are we doing?” “I don’t know.” His smile evaporates, his heels coming back down on the floor. “But whatever it is, I kinda don’t want it to stop.” I swallow. And then the truth is there. Right on my tongue. “Me neither,” I say.

I don’t know how Shaw brings this lightness out of me. I don’t know how he makes things feel so fuckin’ easy. Like I’m sliding and scrambling to get up that hill, and he’s suddenly there, pulling me over to a rock I can stand on. I don’t know if he even has to try. He just does it.

He makes life better. He makes me better. He pushes me in ways that I need to be pushed.

“I get it,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper. “No kissing.” He frowns slightly. I hook my duffle over my shoulder. “You’re weirdly quiet, and it’s fuckin’ odd, and I’m worried that—‍” “I’m quiet,” he says, brows pulling together under the backstrap of his ballcap, “because I wanted to.”

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” He licks his lips, his chest pitching with a shaky breath. “Until I fuckin’ gag on you, and I don’t want you to stop until I’ve sucked every drop of your cum deep down my throat.” My hand stills. “Dude.” Holy hell . . . “Were you thinking that the whole time?”

He’s rolled against me, sharing the big-ass pillow I bought when he started crashing over some nights. I agonized over that pillow. Standing there in Bed Bath & Beyond, in front of a wall of pillows, for like twenty fuckin’ minutes debating what the protocol was for when your roommate crashes in your single-pillow bed. Do you buy him his own pillow? Would that weird him out? Or get the double-long one, hoping he doesn’t question it too much?

“I just want to go somewhere where shit’s okay. Where I don’t have to pretend to be anything. And that’s kinda turning out to be your bed. But if that’s not where you’re headed, then I’ll go where you are.” His green eyes come up to meet mine. “Because I don’t think it’s actually about the bed.”

“I want to be around you. Wanna be in your bed. With you. Like a whole lot. Just you.” And like that, my whole heart buckles. I hope.

“Eden Burkehammer,” I mumble as he heads toward the kitchen. “You put that cute ass in front of me, and yeah, I’m gonna follow it. Lemming style. Wherever you’re going.”

“Yeah? How do you seduce a Burkie?” His voice is quiet. “You be Shaw.” I’m grinning so widely my face hurts. “Shit, that’s all it takes?” “For you, yeah.”

But Les doesn’t give me that same rise of goosebumps up the back of my neck like Burkie does. I don’t get that same lightness in my chest, that urge to bounce on my toes. The all-body, gut-deep, smile-inducing reaction I get when Burkie steps into the room. What I feel toward Les is definitely friendship. With Burkie? Maybe like extra-friendship. With a side of all those heart-pumping emotions.

The locker room pulsates—everyone hugging and singing and howling—but with one little downward flick of Shaw’s eyes, it’s like I’m in a cocoon, tucked away with him in our own little moment. His gaze lingers on my mouth. I want to kiss him. So fuckin’ bad.

Everyone should have a Burkie. Someone who makes things okay. Someone who makes a place feel like home just because they’re in it.

“I’d tell them all,” I say. “Come out. Be with you. I’d risk everything.” Everything. The Wolfpack. The NHL. No hesitation. No looking back.

“I just want to be us.” He tightens his hand against my lower back. “All the time. Not just when we’re alone.” I kiss him. Right there in the hallway.

“I pick you,” I lean over to look at him. He blinks up at me. “Pick me for what?” “For anything.” “I pick you too.” He laughs, squinting as snowflakes batter his face and clutch onto his backward ballcap.

“I fuckin’ mean that, Shaw.” I say. “I pick you.” Over everything. Maybe over an NHL dream. He grips my shirt, yanking me in for a kiss.

Can’t believe I used to avoid kissing. But then, I’d never kissed a Burkie before.

I thought about how I want people to know that I miss you. That you’re important to me.”

Words that I will forever remember: 1. “I think you should trust yourself, Burkie.” 2. “I kinda don’t want it to stop.” 3. “I’m quiet, because I wanted to.” 4. “We would have been there for you in a heartbeat.” 5. “I don’t think it’s actually about the bed.” 6. “I’m with Burkie. All the way.” 7. “I’m happy.” 8. “I just want to be us.” 9. “I want people to know that I miss you. That you’re important to me.” 10. “It’s you and me. We can do anything.”

“And that word you were looking for earlier?” He leans back to wink at me. “I think it was boyfriends.” I close my eyes. “I’m pretty sure it was too.”

“I love you.” It comes out quietly, tenderly. But strong. Like the truth that it really is. “I want everything with you. A life. A home. Marriage. I’d give up Montreal in a heartbeat for that. I’d give you a home you’d never have to lose.”

“I love you. So freaking much.” My best friend. My whole damn world. Standing right here and hugging me back with all his strength. I sniffle, tears slipping out and rolling down my cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m always crying around you. I’m always feeling so much. Like it’s leaking out all over, and jeez . . .” I hiccup on my words. “I can’t hold it in.”

“We’re going to do this?” he whispers. “You and me?” I’m grinning so big it stretches my cheeks. Grinning and crying and holding onto him. “Yeah, we are.” He nods, that deep emotion in his eyes telling me that he’s right there with me. Next to me. Ready to dig in and fight. “Let’s do this.”

He’s kissing me. Heavy in with all his pads. His name is on my lips, and I’ve only got two thoughts in my head. One is Shaw, of course. And the other is this: Sometimes, you just have to dream really fuckin’ big. And then hold on for the ride.