Him (Him, #1)

by Sarina Bowen

I, on the other hand, do. I have the same damn weakness I’ve always had. It’s still there as I stare up at the big screen. As I watch Jamie Canning stop another dizzying slap shot. As I admire the grace and deadly precision with which he moves. My weakness is him.

I’ve always kept my memories of Canning to myself. Because they’re mine. For six weeks every summer, he was mine.

The fact that he’d been the first guy I ever loved and the one who made me face some terrifying things about myself…well, all that will go unsaid.

Fuck, he’d looked good. Really good. All golden-boy California hotness, big and blond and sexy as fuck. With those soulful brown eyes—surprising on a blond guy. It’s an understated sexiness, though. Jamie Canning never flaunted his looks in all the time I’d known him. Sometimes I think he’s not even aware of how goddamn attractive he is.

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because I’m smashing my mouth against his.

I’m dying inside. I want him more than anything in the goddamn world.

I’m the one who’s in love with my best friend and pretending I’m not.

It’s not an exaggeration to say I’ve always felt a little more alive when he’s around. Life is just a little brighter, a little louder wherever Wes is.

Fuck me. I’m a strong guy. I’m a tough guy. But I was not built to withstand the sight of Jamie Canning stroking himself.

This guy…goddamn it, this guy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Canning. The way I crave Canning.

Jesus. Good thing he’s not a traffic cop, because he’s sending enough mixed signals to cause a ten-car pileup.

I love you. The words are always right there on the tip of my naughty tongue. I swallow them back like I need to and say something much more practical instead.

I’ll give him every fucking part of myself, serve it to him like a feast at a banquet. Jamie Canning has no idea the kind of power he has over me.

“I’d let you do anything to me, Canning.”

“Want you,” I whisper. Lately, those two words define me. “Have me,” he says.

I’m becoming so attached to Canning. Says the guy who’s already stupidly, disgustingly in love with him… I am, and always have been. I love everything about him. His quiet strength, his dry humor, his carefree approach to life that contrasts with his controlled manner on the ice. That sexy-as-sin body…

His arms close around me and it feels like coming home. Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It’s him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

“You are goddamn addictive, Wes.”

I wasn’t exaggerating before. I’m addicted to Ryan Wesley. And right now I desperately need a fix.

Wes’s face is still buried in my neck. I like it there. I wish he’d never leave.

Jamie Canning was my first crush and my first love. But he was never mine to have.

“That’s not what happened, Ryan. Not for me. What happened is that I got my best friend back for a little while, and I also fell for him.” His voice thickens. “I’m not just saying that. I fucking love you, and I know that’s inconvenient. But I didn’t get a chance to tell you in Lake Placid, so I’m telling you right now. Just in case we can ever get more than a summer. I love you, and I wish things were different.”

I’ve missed him. So fucking much I’ve been walking around with a hollow chasm in my chest where my heart used to be. But that gaping hole is full again. My heart is back, because Jamie is here. And he fucking loves me.

I’m not kidding when I say that I don’t want to be your downfall. Think hard about how much risk you’re willing to take.” “You’re worth it,”

“I’m dead serious. It’s my life, and yours. I’ve loved you for years, babe. If the NHL can’t deal with it, then that’s just the way it is.”

“You really do love me, huh?” “Always have.” I swallow hard. “Always will.”

I love Jamie. I’ve always loved Jamie. And now that I know he feels the same way, I can’t wait to see him again. To live with him again.

“I love you.” I rub the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. “Loved you every summer since I was thirteen years old. Love you even more now.”

Jamie laughs at me. And then he kisses me. I lock my hands at the nape of his neck and tug him closer. Warm skin slides against mine, and I know I’m home. Because home is with him.

I look up and find him in the mob, and it’s like the sun just came out.

Jamie doesn’t leave my side, though. He and I are the calm eye of a friendly, familial hurricane. And I hope the storm will never pass.