Over at the Luciano house, kids in sleeping bags laid scattered around the living room like autumn leaves. Gina’s kids were used to giving up their beds when adults stayed over. Joey remembered doing the same thing when he was a kid, hunkering down with his siblings and cousins, raiding the fridge for leftovers and talking until the wee hours of the night. Good times.

Most of the kids were already asleep. A few pairs of bleary eyes blinked at them as they picked their way carefully through the room. ‘Love Actually,’ Gina’s favorite Christmas movie, played quietly on the television.

Joey stopped to turn the TV off just as Bill Nighy’s character was telling his friend that he’d had a Christmas epiphany. ‘It’s a terrible, terrible mistake,’ he said, ‘but you turn out to be the fuckin’ love of my life.’

Liam came up behind him, and they watched until the end of the scene. “The world’s most awkward hug,” Liam commented. He turned the television off.

Joey led the way up the stairs. As much as he told his brain that nothing was going to happen, the idea of sharing a bed with Liam made his stomach flutter. Maybe they could fool around a little? Maybe a kiss. A kiss would be nice. He rubbed his hand across his mouth, thinking about Liam’s lips.

Moving quietly down the darkened hall, he pushed open the door to the room that used to be his and Deano’s bedroom and now belonged to Matthew, Gina’s oldest kid.

Liam stopped just inside the door, his carryon bumping against his ankles. “One bed? Didn’t there used to be bunk beds here?”

“Disappointed?” Joey asked. “Were you hoping to call top?”

Liam gave Joey a look that made his dick twitch. “Didn’t think I’d have to call it.”

Joey tried to hide his blush by fussing with the pillows. Liam’s quiet chuckle let him know he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Kid has his own room.”

“Kids these days. Spoiled, the lot of them.” Liam draped his suit jacket on the back of Matt’s desk chair and sat down on the foot of the bed with a sigh. He checked out the room while he untied his shoes.

The expected hockey and baseball memorabilia cluttered the bookshelves and dresser top, but most of the wall space was devoted to posters of classic rock bands. Two guitars, one electric and one acoustic, leaned against the wall.

“I didn’t know Matt played the guitar,” Liam said standing up to undo his belt.

Joey shook off the vinyl boots and pulled off his Santa shirt, keeping his eyes off of Liam as he did. He didn’t want Liam to think he was expecting anything to happen, even though he was totally hoping it would.

At the soft thunk of Liam’s cufflinks hitting the top of the dresser, Joey couldn’t help shooting a look across the room. Blood heated his cheeks as he remembered how his hands had shaken when he’d removed those cufflinks from Liam’s shirt.

Liam’s fingers lingered on the cufflinks, and Joey wondered if he were remembering that, too.

When he was down to his dark gray boxer briefs, suit folded neatly over the chair, Liam lifted his overnight case onto the bed. “I didn’t bring anything to sleep in.” He dug through the bag with a frown. “I don’t want to sleep in my sweats; they’re too hot. You okay if I wear a t-shirt and these?”

Joey couldn’t help dragging his eyes down Liam’s bare torso, the soft purple marks from Joey’s mouth standing out in stark contrast to his creamy skin. “Yeah,” he said, forcing his voice to sound casual. “You can forget the t-shirt if you want. I don’t usually sleep in one.”

It was Liam’s turn to let his gaze rake down Joey’s body. “Oh? Do you usually sleep in Santa pants?”

Raising one eyebrow at the challenge he heard in Liam’s tone, Joey kept his eyes locked on Liam as he silently pushed his pants to the floor and stepped out of them. His tiny black briefs left nothing to the imagination and framed the fingertip bruises Liam had pressed into his hips earlier.

He could see Liam warring with himself. His eyes narrowed, and his weight shifted as if he were going to take a step towards Joey.

Lust tightened Joey’s gut.

When Liam exhaled and turned away, Joey’s shoulders sagged with a mixture of relief and disappointment. As hot as their moment had been, he needed some time to process it before—hopefully—repeating it. Though God only knew when their paths would cross again. Their teams were in different conferences and only played each other twice in a season.

“I’m, ah, gonna…” Grabbing his toiletries bag, Liam pointed at the hallway. Joey didn’t bother answering. He took his turn in the bathroom after Liam returned.

Staring in the mirror as he brushed, he tried to see himself as other people did. He supposed he was good-looking enough. He had the same lush black hair as the rest of his family. Thick brows over eyes so dark brown they appeared almost black in certain light. Enough girls had ooh’d and ah’d over his long curly eyelashes that he almost wished he didn’t have them. His mouth was his best feature—wide with full, pink lips. He rubbed a hand across the five o’clock shadow that usually started popping up by noon.

He knew his body was pretty close to perfect. That wasn’t him bragging; he’d been working out hard his entire life, and staying in top form was part of his job. He brushed a hand over his chest, feeling the hair tickling his palms. He had more chest hair than was probably fashionable right now, but that was part of the Italian package.

Liam had almost none on his chest, just a thin line pointing like an arrow down his perfect skin.

Joey spit into the sink and watched the water swirl down the drain.

When he got back into the bedroom, Liam was sitting on the side of the bed checking his phone. He set it down when he saw Joey. “I didn’t know what side of the bed you wanted.” The bed was pushed into the corner of the room so that only one side was accessible.

After a brief, mostly non-verbal discussion, Joey climbed into bed first, scooting so close to the wall he could feel the chill from the plasterboard. He’d opted to sleep in a t-shirt and some loose boxer shorts. Liam apparently had the same idea.

The glow from the multi-colored Christmas lights strung on the outside of the window cut through the darkness. As the lights blinked on and off, shadows jumped back and forth across the room. Joey would unplug them, but it meant climbing over Liam and going downstairs, and that wasn’t going to happen.

Joey had shared a bed before, on the road, at camps, but he’d never been so aware of another man’s body. With his back pressed against Liam’s, he was aware of each breath Liam took. He tried to move over, to give Liam some more room, but he was as close to the wall as he could be. Exhaling deeply, the hiss of escaping breath shockingly loud in the quiet room, he willed his body to relax.

Liam shifted against him. “Is it just me,” Liam asked into the silence, “or is this bed really small?”

Joey laughed, and the tension broke a little. “It’s fucking small, dude. I think it’s a double, not a queen. You want me to sleep on the floor? I can grab some blankets.”

He started to sit up, but Liam stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Stay.”

Heat flared in Joey’s gut at the order, an echo of their time in the attic.

Joey settled his body down, but his thoughts were anything but settled. He burned with the need to talk about what they’d done; to find out what, if anything, it had meant to Liam. But fear held him back. As the air trapped beneath their shared blankets warmed with the heat of their bodies, sleep seemed like an impossible goal. Finally, he couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So, how did the talk with Michelle go?” he asked.

Liam sighed and rolled onto his back, tucking his arms behind his head.

Joey turned onto his other side to face him, sliding down the bed, so Liam’s elbow didn’t poke him in the eye. “That bad?”

“Not bad so much. I mean, it couldn’t go great, right? It’s a pretty fucked up situation,” Liam said bitterly.

“Are you upset that she’s been fucking around with Nico or worried that you look like an idiot?”

Liam turned his head toward Joey. “What? What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m pissed she was screwing your brother. She cheated on me!”

Joey made a little sound of disagreement, and Liam turned onto his side with a glare Joey could see in the dim light. “You got something to say?” he said with a growl. He pillowed his head on his arm.

Joey rolled his eyes. Liam had lost the power to intimidate him years ago. “Come on, be honest. Isn’t there a little relief in there that it’s over?” When Liam didn’t answer, Joey knew he wasn’t wrong. “I mean, she was great. Is great. But you guys were never really a good fit.”

“We fit good for a long time,” Liam muttered.

Joey snorted. “Yeah, as long as you were on the road most of the year. But when you moved back here, had to spend all that time together last year when you were doing PT and figuring shit out, every time I saw you, you were fighting. Gina told me you guys fought all the time. I mean, dude, she didn’t move to Seattle with you. That couldn’t be a good sign.”

“We were working it out.”

“Do you love her? Like excited to see her every time she walks in the door love her? Want to spend all your time with her?” Joey found himself very interested in Liam’s answer.

“That kind of thing doesn’t last,” Liam said, not quite answering the question. “We were good. It was nice.”

“Wow.” Joey tried to hold back a grin. “That’s quite the endorsement. I hope someday I find someone who thinks I’m nice.”

Liam bonked Joey on the head with his elbow. “Good luck with that, brat.”

Joey fluttered his eyelashes at Liam. “What? You don’t think I’m a nice boy? You wouldn’t bring me home to meet your mother?”

The tiny space between them suddenly crackled with the energy they’d both been trying to suppress. Liam dropped his hand down to run his fingers through Joey’s hair, effectively tucking Joey under his arm. “Oh, I know you’re not a nice boy.”