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“Scott is my…friend,” Kip said, “if you’re wondering why he’s here.” “Actually,” Scott said, “I’m his boyfriend.”
“I don’t want to wait anymore,” Scott said, turning slightly toward Kip and brushing his fingers over his cheek. “I’d make the announcement right now if it wouldn’t distract the team. I want to be with you in the way that you deserve. In the way that we both deserve.”
I can’t lose him. Not ever.
“when you were alone… I came up with a dumb excuse to stay. I don’t even know why. I just wanted to look at you.”
He could see the surprise in Kip’s eyes as Scott leaned in and kissed him. Scott thought it might just be a quick peck, but as soon as their lips touched, he just went for it. He kissed Kip like they were alone and maybe hadn’t seen each other in months. He kissed him like a man who had everything he had ever dreamed of.
Scott kissed him again, and everything around them disappeared. It was just Scott and the man he loved, making out in a penalty box.
she had texted him. Congratulations. You boys just made history. A second text said, Seriously, though, I almost cried.
“Absolutely. He means the world to me and I love him.”
Scott Hunter—captain of the New York Admirals and model of rugged masculinity—was going to a gay nightclub with his pretty, painted boyfriend.
Let the world make no mistake: Kip Grady was his.
“Can’t control myself when you look like that,” Scott breathed into Kip’s ear.
He needed to get out of here, or make peace with the fact that he was going to fuck Kip against a wall in front of god and Ilya Rozanov.
Kip tilted his chin up, and Scott kissed him because he loved him, and he loved being here with him, and there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.
“You’re happy,” Kip observed. Scott leaned their foreheads together. “I feel invincible right now.” “Me too. Let’s change the fucking world.” Scott kissed him, hard, because Kip had described exactly how he felt. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s do that.”
