Page 17

Bennett: And right before the holiday freeze kicked in.

I stared at the screen, trying to process what I was reading as Nico took a tentative step back. Brad Davidson had been our second-line center for three years, reliable and well-liked. I hadn’t expected him to be on the trade radar. Management must have wanted a change sooner rather than later after the losing trip.

“Everything okay?” Nico asked.

“Yeah. Just...” I held up the phone. “One of my teammates got traded. It’s always weird when that happens.”

“That must be hard. Losing someone you play with every day.”

“It’s part of the business,” I said automatically. Then I looked at Nico and saw the understanding in his eyes. “But yeah. It’s hard. Especially right before Christmas.”

“Why would that happen?”

“Usually means someone’s not performing, or the team needs to shake things up.” I looked at the messages still pouring in, guys trying to process the same shock I was. “Davidson’s a good guy. I hope Pittsburgh treats him well.”

I silenced the phone before I pocketed it. The workshop was warm, and Nico was close enough to touch. This was the only place I wanted to be.

“Thank you,” I said. “For the cocoa, for showing me the table, for...” I gestured around the workshop. “For making this a perfect homecoming.”

“This is your home. I’m just borrowing space.”

“No,” I said firmly. “This is our workshop now. Our space. And having you here, seeing what you’ve created...” I touched the edge of the table, the wood silk-smooth under my hand. “It makes everything better.”

Nico smiled, small but genuine. “Good. I’m glad.”

I reached for my mug and took a sip of hot chocolate, and the warmth spread through my chest. “Bad games used to make me want to hide in here by myself, focus on wood until the frustration went away. But this is better. Working with someone. Having someone who understands why creating something matters.”

“Your grandmother would be proud. Of the man you’ve become, of the way you honor her teachings.”

The words hit me hard, maybe because I was tired, maybe because of the intimacy of the workshop late at night. Or maybe because Nico had somehow known exactly what I needed to hear.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” Nico moved closer, and for a moment I thought we might pick up where we’d left off. Instead, he touched my arm. “You should get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

He must have seen the sleepiness take over. The weight of the road trip replaced the rush from what Nico and I almost did. But I was reluctant to leave and end this moment.

“You going to keep working?” I asked.

“Probably another hour. I think I want to spend more time on the table.”

“Don’t stay up too late. You need sleep too.” I wanted to kiss him, to explore his lips, but I held back, not wanting to make a wrong move.

“I will.” Nico’s smile was tender. “Sleep well, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

I walked back across the yard with the mug warm in my hands and the memory of his body so close to mine. After two days of losing, this was exactly what I’d needed to come home to.

Six

Nico

The headboard was fighting me.

I’d been working on Jake’s bed frame for three hours. The walnut was being stubborn about the curved detail I wanted to carve into the top rail. The wood kept splitting at the wrong angle, refusing to accept the gentle arc I was trying to coax from it.

If I were managing Jake’s requests right, I should have been working on the chairs. He wanted eight of them. The dining table still needed legs, and the top wasn’t exactly finished.