Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,39

then winced. “Sorry, here you said your parents threw you out and I’m making jokes about mine playing matchmaker.”

“It’s fine,” Micah assured him. “I had this amazing queer youth group in high school, and friends with super-liberal parents who were fine with me crashing on the couch. After graduating I was able to get a scholarship and declare myself financially independent, so I’ll be paying back my student loans for the rest of my life but, hey, me and everyone else under fifty. It’s their loss, really.”

“Still, it sucks,” Daniel said, simply. “And I’m sorry. If I’d been here, I bet my family would have let you just move into the guest room.”

“Maybe not if they saw us kissing,” Micah said.

“Hey, I don’t know about that. They always did like you.” Daniel’s smile was warm. “Oh, by the way, Gretchen looked at every single photograph on your Instagram. Her and Nathaniel are telling their friends they know a ‘dolphin guy’ and already asking when they can come back. She keeps calling Dudley her friend the giant turtle, it’s adorable.”

“Anytime, they were great.” Micah still couldn’t quite believe Daniel had kids, even having met them and spent the day with them at the aquarium. “And you know, I could teach them how to surf. So they don’t end up as hopeless as their old man.”

“Hey, I was getting better by the end!” Daniel laughed and leaned back, all tan and gorgeous and looking relaxed and happy. It made Micah’s mouth water. “Man, I wish we could stay here but I have to watch some game tapes this afternoon. Let’s do it again soon, though.”

“Sure.” Micah was quiet for a moment, then he added nonchalantly, “You know, you can come over for dinner later, if you want. When you’re done with your game tapes? I’m a pretty good cook.”

“Yeah?” Daniel grinned over him. “You’re not sick of me?”

“Nah. Not yet.” Micah jumped to his feet and started packing up his stuff. He was mostly dry, so he slid his feet into his flip-flops and pulled on his T-shirt and a ball cap.

“I was going to bring my dogs today, but I was worried they’d like, try and run into the water and surf with me.” Daniel’s smile went back to intense megawatt voltage. “Do you think—”

“No,” Micah said, immediately. “Veto. You are not going to surf with your dogs.”

Daniel bumped into him with his shoulder. His skin was warm, and it sent a pleasant little shiver through Micah. “You’re supposed to be my accomplice, not my conscience, duh.”

“Bring them sometime and we’ll play catch, but leave the surfboarding to humans.” Micah bumped him back. “And I’ll be your accomplice on things that don’t involve putting a dog on a surfboard. What, are you trying to start a YouTube channel?”

“Do it for the views, man,” Daniel drawled, then threw an arm around Micah and pulled him in closer. “I’m so glad you came to that game, really, this is the best part of moving back to Florida.”

“Aw.” Micah beamed up at him. “I’m glad, too.”

He was glad, honestly. But he was also worried, because Daniel hadn’t moved back because of Micah. Daniel had moved back because of hockey, and as far as Micah could tell, hockey was making Daniel miserable. And Micah, he’d already done the thing where he was in love with Daniel and Daniel left. He wasn’t going to do that again. If he was smart, he’d keep his distance and not let himself get involved—it was going to hurt too much to go through it again.

But with the sun gleaming off Daniel’s tousled hair, his arm warm around Micah’s shoulders, and Daniel’s excited voice making plans for future adventures... Micah wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do anything but be swept along with Daniel’s enthusiasm for their rekindled friendship. Daniel was like the sea, and Micah’d always been one to stay in the waves as long as he could.

* * *

Micah made a simple but fun dinner for Daniel’s visit to his house. He went with coconut shrimp, grilled teriyaki salmon and a fresh lemon zest and cilantro cold pasta salad. He had some Florence and the Machine on his Sonos—interspersed with some Carly Rae and Marina and the Diamonds—and was finishing up the meal when there was a knock on his front door. He washed his hands and went to answer.

Daniel was standing there, looking impossibly tall and hot, holding a six-pack of Michelob Ultra and a box