Yet when Max grinned at him, he grinned back. It was surely going to end with his ass hitting the ice again, but it was fun. He was having fun. Max was there, and if he fell, he wouldn’t be alone. His old glasses could have used a tightening and slipped down his nose too much. Jeremy was careful to keep pushing them up.
The lights were a bit blurred with his old prescription, the strands strung around the three massive arches over the rink a mess of golden light. The rest of the square was crowded with people and lines of stalls for a pop-up holiday market. A few fat snowflakes drifted down.
Over laughter and chatter and happy shrieks, “All I Want for Christmas is You” filled the air, and Jeremy shuffled a few steps on the ice. Help me, Mariah.
Honey whipped past, shouting, “Bend your knees!”
Max snorted. “Easy for him to say. He grew up playing hockey.”
“You didn’t?” Jeremy asked, performing a stiff-legged progression of inches.
“Nah, it was all football for me. Okay, bending knees. We got this.”
Jeremy watched Max get up some good speed, his choppy crosscuts miles better than Jeremy’s as he rounded one end of the rink. Then a little girl on figure skates whizzed by at an alarming speed. For an endless moment, Max pinwheeled his arms, the blades slipping and his feet flying forward.
Bam!
On his ass, he burst out laughing, and Jeremy walk-skated in short, faster strides toward him. “You okay? Oh shit!” Jeremy hadn’t realized how much speed he’d quickly gained, and now he was heading right for Max with no way to stop. Max reached up to grab his hips with strong, leather-clad hands.
Tyler and Mike were laughing their asses off, and Max called “Bite me!” with a good-natured smile. He was still holding Jeremy’s hips. “You good?”
“You’re the one on the ice.” Jeremy would probably join him shortly but tried for cocky. At least confident? Probably failed miserably.
But Max laughed. “Yep. That little girl was merciless. You gonna help me up, Cherry?”
Jeremy’s heart flipped. His dumb nickname sounded different when Max said it. Almost sexy or something. Which was obviously all in his head. “Sure.” He gave Max his hand and pulled.
In a twist that shocked no one, Jeremy ended up sprawled on top of Max on the ice. They were laughing too hard to do anything about it, and Honey arrived in a spray of ice to laugh and point. Max’s body felt so good under Jeremy—muscular, but also warm and soft. His gloved hand was on Jeremy’s thigh, and Jeremy was practically straddling him as he tried to push himself up.
He might not have been trying quite as strenuously as he could have.
In the end, Tyler and Mike made their way around, doing the walk-shuffle-skate move, and they helped Honey get Max and Jeremy on their skates again. Jeremy clutched Max’s arms, and Max smiled down at him, his brown eyes crinkling, stubbly cheeks dimpled. That chin cleft was tantalizingly close…
Honey cleared his throat. “You losers want a few tips on how not to clean the rink with your asses?”
They tried a few more laps before returning the skates and grabbing cups of minty hot chocolate. A “Little Drummer Boy” mash-up filled the air, and Jeremy sipped the sweet, warm cocoa.
Max slung an arm over his shoulders. “This was a fun day.”
“Yeah.” Jeremy’s throat was suddenly thick. He wanted to thank Max for being so kind to him. For being—he hoped—a friend. But if he said anything more he might burst into tears, so Jeremy took another sip of his hot chocolate.
Flurries of snow increased as the temperature hovered around the freezing mark. A fluffy flake landed right on the end of Max’s nose, and Jeremy swiped it off with a laugh. He watched it melt on the end of his glove, wondering what the unique pattern would have looked like under a microscope. When he looked up, Max was watching him.
Their gazes locked, and Jeremy’s breath stuttered. Snowflakes drifted between them, and Max’s eyes dropped. He’d taken off his glove, and he brushed Jeremy’s bottom lip with a fingertip.
“Snowflake,” he murmured.
They watched it melt on Max’s finger.
Max cleared his throat. “So hey, you wanna go out tomorrow night? We need to get you laid, right?”
Jeremy could only nod and for a minute, he let his growing, undeniable crush on Max expand to fill every lonely corner of him, shining as brightly as the golden bulbs illuminating the night.
Chapter Four
The red couch sagged even lower as Honey flopped down next to Max, tilting him toward the middle. Eyes locked on the screen as his player scaled a wall while a bomb exploded in the distance, Max said, “Hey.” Gripping the controller, he swore under his breath as he jerked too late to avoid an ambush.
“You’re dead,” Honey noted.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Max tossed the controller on the cushion between them. “I should hit the gym.”
“It’s already three. Fuck it. Although you probably want to get in some last-minute curls before your date.”
Idly watching the game’s restart menu repeat on the screen, Max said, “Not going on a date. Told you I’m taking Jeremy out to the Village, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” Honey tapped his phone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” When Honey didn’t answer, Max nudged his knee with his bare foot.
Honey’s gaze was still on his phone as he said, “What did you two do yesterday?”
“Went shopping. Had lunch. Then here for poker.”
“Mm-hmm. Then skating. Then hot chocolate. Then walking around the Christmas market. You know, like a date.”
Max scoffed. “With you and the guys! That’s not a date.”
“Spent all day together.” Honey scrolled lazily with his finger, eyes on the phone screen. “Like one big-ass date you didn’t want to end.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I spend plenty of days with you. Are we on a date right now? Should I have brought chocolates?”
“You know I never say no to chocolate.” Honey flashed him a grin before going back to his phone. “The big difference is you don’t look at me like you’re drooling for a mouthful of my dick. Not anymore, at least.”
“You wish.” He nudged Honey’s knee again with his foot—harder. Honey kicked back, and they foot wrestled for a few seconds. “And what the hell are you talking about? I’m helping Jeremy. He needs a friend. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh,” Honey agreed, tapping out a text with his thumbs. “You’re doing your broken wing thing. And you want a piece of that.”
“I do not!” Max froze, shocked at the ferocity of his own denial.
Slowly, Honey swiveled his head up and met Max’s eyes, his brows sky high. “Then why are you so pissed right now?”
Max forced a laugh, making a pfft noise. “I’m not.”
“If you say so, bro.” Honey went back to his phone.
Grabbing the controller, Max started another game, the familiar shooting sound effects filling the silence. He played for a few minutes, his shoulders up around his ears, controller movements jerky. He got killed again and tossed down the controller. It bounced onto the carpet.