“He’s here!” Benji shrieked.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and Sean appeared, his face flushed. “He’s here.”

“I know,” Connor said. “Everyone ready?”

“No!” Fiona shrieked.

“Too bad. Here he comes.”

The front door opened and a small, blond blur shot across the living room, launching himself at Beau. Beau dropped the double handful of plastic bags he carried and opened his arms wide. Something clenched in Connor’s chest as Beau scooped Benji up and spun him around.

When Benji finally pulled away, Connor walked over and ruffled his hair. “Dude, we talked about this.”

“You said wait ‘til he was inside and I did,” Benji said.

He couldn’t fault the kids’ logic.

“How was your trip?” Micah asked, stepping out of the kitchen. “How were Riley and Delia?”

“Did you win? Did you get into any fights?” Fiona asked.

“Are those for us?” Benji said, looking at the bags on the floor.

“Whoa, one at a time.” Beau closed the front door and glanced over at Connor. The heat in his eyes had him wishing he could pull Beau away and have all afternoon with him alone.

“Yes, we won a couple of the games. Yeah, I got into a fight, and had an assist, and scored a goal all in one game. A regular Gordie Howe hat trick that one. You would have been proud. And Riley and Delia are good. They said hi.”

Judging by the grin Micah gave him, she definitely had a crush or two.

“So what’d I miss?” Beau asked. “Anything good? How’d your games go?”

“Fee got into a fight,” Sean said with a smirk.

“That’s what I hear. So what exactly did our Fiona do?”

The words were so casual, but they meant everything to Connor.

Micah tugged him toward the kitchen. “The stupid catcher for the Jaguars said mean things about you and Connor and Peggy. So Fee beat the shit out of her.”

“Micah.” Dear God, the last thing he needed was for her to start cursing, too. Sadly, it was probably inevitable.

“Sorry,” Micah said unapologetically. “Beat the snot out of her. That better?”

“Yes.”

Beau grinned. “Where is she, then? I want to give her a high five.”

“In here!” Fiona called from the kitchen.

Beau picked his bags off the floor as they made their way into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway. “What is that?”

Fiona looked up with a broad smile. “It’s a cake!”

“You made this?” Beau said, walking over to take a closer look.

“Took her two days,” Connor said.

Ice-blue frosting covered the round cake. Black fondant pucks with the number 18 on them, and two hockey nets complete with piped strings decorated the sides. The top was decorated with crossed hockey sticks and a replica of Beau’s jersey painstakingly cut out of fondant, a process that had driven Fiona to tears more than once.

Connor was so proud of her. She’d worked so hard on it, watching YouTube videos on repeat and trying several recipes to get the perfect flavor cake. It had cost Connor a fortune in baking supplies, eggs, and sugar, but it had been worth every cent.

Beau hugged Fiona tightly. She couldn’t stop grinning. “Do you really like it?”

“I love it. It looks amazing.” He blinked quickly and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “You guys…” He looked at the streamers hanging from the ceiling, the Welcome Home Beau posters taped to the walls. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe this was all for him.

“Thank you,” he said, looking around at the kids. “For the posters and the streamers and the cake. Thank you.” His voice sounded suspiciously rough to Connor.

There was pain in Beau’s eyes when he looked at Connor across the room. “I haven’t had this much excitement since the wedding,” he said, his tone not quite reaching joking. “How are Mac and Cheese anyway? Still in the honeymoon stage or has the magic worn off?”

Benji giggled. “They’re fine.”

“Why don’t you go get them?” Beau dropped the full plastic bags on the counter. “I got something for them, too.”

Something about Beau felt off. Connor could tell that though he was genuinely happy to see the kids, some of his cheeriness was forced.

After Beau handed out the T-shirts, magnets, and coffee mugs he had picked up at truck stops and stadium gift shops, Connor put the coffee on and starting slicing the cake.

In a brief lull in the excited conversation, Connor snuck a look at Beau. His shoulders were slumped, and when his eyes met Connor’s, the sadness in them made Connor’s gut clench. He knew that look. As the song said, there was goodbye in his eyes for sure.

The cake tasted like sawdust.

* * *

Beau slept in Connor’s room. There wasn’t much point in pretending anymore. “Connor,” Beau said climbing slowly up the stairs after using the bathroom.

“Not yet,” Connor pulling Beau into his arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“You sound surprised,” Connor said with a small smile.

Beau shrugged. “I’m not used to it.”

Tilting Beau’s head back with a hand on his chin, Connor examined Beau’s face. “Wow, that’s quite the bruise.” He traced his fingers lightly over the green and purple-tinged skin over Beau’s cheekbone.

Beau winched. “Cheap shot by the Iceman defense. I didn’t even have the puck.” He tried to pull back from Connor. “Con,” he started.

Clenching his hands tightly enough around Beau’s arms to make Beau’s eyes open wide, Connor held him in place. “Later. I promise. For now, just kiss me. I need you to show me that you missed me.”

Beau nodded. “Okay. I need that, too.” He leaned in and kissed Connor softly, but with an urgency that only confirmed what Connor suspected.

Don’t go.

Connor pulled Beau’s shirt over his head. Even in the low light from the single desk lamp, Connor could see the shadows of bruises and cuts on Beau’s ribs. He ran his hands gently over them. “Tough games?”

Beau looked where Connor was touching him. He laughed a little in surprise. “I didn’t even notice.”

Silently, Connor led Beau to the mattress on the floor. Leaving the lamp on, he undressed them both, then cataloged every bruise, scrape, scar, cut, and poorly-healed broken bone on Beau’s body until Beau was strung-out, breathless and begging.

Fast-forward to sometime later, and Connor was on his hands and knees with Beau stretched over him. Beau’s chest was plastered to Connor’s back. He’d covered Connor’s hands with his, their fingers clasped together on the bed, joined as closely as they could be. Sweat dripped from Beau as he fucked Connor exactly the way he needed, strong and deep. It ran down the side of his neck, mixing with Connor’s until it was impossible to tell them apart.

They strained against each other, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, both holding out as long as they could.

But everything ends, and as Beau drove into Connor, nailing him directly on that perfect spot, Connor shouted as his arms gave out, dropping his chest to the bed.

Beau kneeled up, the air rushing to fill the sudden space behind them cold on Connor’s back. His grip on Connor’s hips was like iron, and Connor hoped his fingertips would leave bruises on his skin.

Don’t go, don’t go, Connor chanted mentally to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

“Touch yourself,” Beau begged through gritted teeth. “I gotta…I can’t…I’m gonna to come.”

Stay, Connor thought, ignoring the command. He would last as long as he could.

Beau came with a choked moan, throbbing inside Conner even as he collapsed on top of him, pushing them flat on the bed. “Connor,” he said in his ear, voice desperate. “Oh, Connor.”

Wedging his hand between their bodies, Beau dragged his hand down Connor’s cock, and Connor came with a gasping sob.

* * *

Much later, Connor nestled against Beau’s side, running his hand up and down his chest. “I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you, too.”

There was a long silence as tension gathered in the room. “We need to talk,” Beau said and the moment Connor had been dreading had finally arrived.

Everything ended.

Getting the details from Beau was like pulling teeth. He kept saying it was no big deal. Connor didn’t know a lot about hockey, but he’d done a bit of reading while Beau had been on the road.

“So the Lightning is American League, right? And players from there can get called up to play with the Thunder?” He’d turned on the desk lamp by his mattress, and he sat up, back against the wall. He wore a soft old T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

“Theoretically,” Beau said, handing Connor a beer. He’d changed into sleep pants and soft shirt, then made a run to the kitchen while Connor showered. He’d also grabbed the leftover cake. “But I wouldn’t count on it.” He placed the cake plate on the floor.

“But still. That’s a lot closer to your dream than playing here. They play on the same ice, for god sake.”

Beau picked up the top book from the pile near Connor’s pillow. “Hockey 101 for Dummies,” he read, climbing over Connor’s legs to stretch out next to him. “Been doing some research?”

“Yeah,” Connor admitted. “I like learning new things.”

“I know you do. I love that about you,” Beau said. He flipped through the book, stopping every now and then to read something.

“Beau,” Connor said.

“It’s not a bad guide,” he answered.

Apparently, it was his turn to avoid talking. “Beau,” Connor said again, taking the book from his hands. “You have to go to Seattle.”

“I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do,” Beau said. “Can you pass me the cake?”

Connor sighed but reached down for the plate. He nabbed a forkful before handing it over. “This is really good.”

“It is.” Beau took the plate from him. “I’m proud of Fiona. For that fight, too.”

“Don’t tell her that.” Connor let Beau have a bite of cake in peace. “You have to go.”

“I know. But—” He wouldn’t look at Connor.

“When do you have to make the decision?” Connor asked.

“By tomorrow. Mooney needs an answer.” He handed the plate back to Connor.

“Then you’d better give him one.” Connor finished his beer and set the bottle down on the floor.

Beau rolled toward Connor and wrapped his arm around his waist. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

“The kids…”

“They’ll miss you. I can’t lie about that. But they’ll be okay in time. You’re not dead, so that’s a plus.” Much as he tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, he didn’t think he succeeded.

“I’m sorry,” Beau whispered.

Connor blinked. “What are you apologizing for? We both knew this was coming, one day.”

“I just thought I’d have more time.”

“We’ll always think we’ll have more time. I don’t think there’s a good time to say goodbye.” Connor wanted to protest, wanted to ask Beau to stay. Beg him. But it wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

Beau didn’t owe him anything. If anything, he owed Beau. Beau had helped him rebuild not only the house but his family. He wasn’t going to be the one to trap Beau in this one-stoplight town, not when he had this bright future to look forward to.

“I don’t know what to do,” Beau confessed.

Connor pulled him down, tucking him under his arm and against his chest. “I think,” he said, running his fingers through the ocean-colored hair he’d come to love, “that if you don’t go and give it a shot, a real shot, your best shot, you’ll always wonder, what if? You’ll be second-guessing the rest of your life, wondering how it could have been different if you’d done this one huge thing.”

Beau sighed heavily and laid his arm across Connor’s chest.

Connor ran his hand up and down the strong arm, admiring the blond hair coating the big muscles. “You’ve been training for this your whole life. You can’t give up now. You’re so close. Don’t you want to know what it’s like? Don’t you want to show your family and yourself that it was worth it? All the pain,” he traced the bruise on Beau’s cheek. “All the travel and all the goodbyes.”

“Kind of.” He turned his face into Connor’s chest, his lips pressed to the skin. “I guess it’s all I’ve got,” his whispered almost too quietly for Connor to hear.

Connor slid his hand up the back of Beau’s neck, his fingers curling in his hair. You have me. Don’t leave. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed them down. “I don’t know what to say.” Beau’s voice was soft, pleading with Connor to give him the answers.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Connor’s words to Sean came back to him. He wanted something for himself. He wanted to ask something of someone else, if only for tonight. “Can you just hold me tonight?”

Beau nodded and rolled onto his back, allowing Connor to rest his head on his broad chest. His arm wrapped around Connor’s shoulders, cradling him close, and the darkness blurred as tears filled Connor’s eyes. He blinked them back. He would allow himself to be held, but crying in front of Beau wasn’t an option. Not now.

Neither of them slept much that night.