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Gabriel laid his head back on Jared’s chest. He kissed it. “It didn’t feel wrong. I mean, it did feel strange and wrong at first—physically. But it didn’t feel wrong here.” He pointed at his head. “You know I’ve always wanted to have you closer to me. And when you fucked me…” He met Jared’s eyes and smiled. “It was everything I never knew I wanted and so much more.”

Jared just looked at him for a moment, then he flipped them over and kissed him. The kiss was positively dirty, each greedy sweep of Jared’s tongue thorough, wild and claiming, Jared’s hands stroking all over his body, so strong and familiar.

Gabriel whined when Jared stopped kissing him.

“We’ll do it every day,” Jared said, pressing their foreheads together. He gave Gabriel another short, hungry kiss. “We’ll do it every day until you can’t live without it.”

Gabriel buried his fingers in Jared’s hair. “You know the scariest part?” he murmured. Jared’s warm breath mixed with his. “I know you aren’t exaggerating.”

“Are you scared?” Jared said, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Nope.” Gabriel scratched Jared’s neck. “You should be the one who’s scared. If you thought I was clingy before, you’re in for a surprise.”

Jared nudged his nose with his own, smiling. “I think I can live with that.”

His chest suddenly tight with emotion, Gabriel cradled Jared’s face with his hands and whispered, “I love you, you know. In every possible way.”

He felt Jared’s breath hitch.

Jared pressed their cheeks together and said, a little choked up, “Okay.”

Gabriel smacked him on the back. “Okay? That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

Grinning, Jared kissed him on his nose. “Je t'aime.”

“Your accent is dreadful,” Gabriel informed him.

“Fine,” Jared said, his eyes smiling. “? ???? ?????.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said. “Is that…?” He cleared his throat. “In Ukrainian? I never—I mean, I don’t remember.” I never knew.

Jared cupped his cheek gently and gave him a soft kiss. “Now you know.”

Gabriel blinked rapidly and averted his gaze.

He squeezed his eyes shut and said, “You aren’t allowed to die before me.”

Jared didn’t laugh at him.

He pulled Gabriel into his arms and said in his ear, “I won’t. But you aren’t allowed to die before me, either.”

Gabriel chuckled and kissed Jared’s throat. “Deal.”

Epilogue

The door of his office opened and slammed shut.

“I want you to fire him.”

Jared lifted his eyes from his computer.

Tristan DuVal was scowling at him, his face holding none of its usual easy mirth and sweetness.

“What are you doing here?” Jared said. “Does walking still hurt?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then you’re supposed to be resting,” Jared said. “The general rule of thumb is if an activity brings any pain or discomfort, stop doing it immediately.”

“That’s what he said, too,” Tristan grumbled. “I want you to get rid of him.”

Leaning back, Jared gave him a patient look. “I presume you’re talking about your new physio?”

“Who else? I want you to fire him.”

“Why?”

Tristan shoved his hands into his pockets, his aquamarine eyes dropping for a moment. “I don’t like him.”

“I’m afraid that’s not a good enough reason,” Jared said calmly. “You know how understaffed we are—”

“I’m the star of this team,” Tristan said with a nice smile. “It’s in your best interests to get me back to fitness as soon as possible. Isn’t that your job, Jared?”

Jared narrowed his eyes. “I’m well aware of what my job is. I’m responsible for rehabilitation of all footballers of this club, and no one is entitled to preferential treatment. Because of the onslaught of injuries in the first team, reserve team and under-18 team, our physios are overworked already.”

“But—”

“Tristan,” Jared cut him off, leveling him with a look, “I asked Zach Hardaway to work with you as a personal favor to me. He’s one of the best physiotherapists and fitness trainers in Europe. You’re incredibly lucky he agreed to do it on such short notice. Normally it would be impossible. He’s in very high demand.”

Tristan scoffed. “That explains why he’s such a bossy asshole.”

Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. He had expected that Tristan would be unhappy with his choice. Zach was a great guy, but his bedside manner left a great deal to be desired. Zach had no patience for bullshit. He wasn’t the type Tristan could wrap around his little finger.

Jared said, “If you want to return to the pitch before the end of the season and get called up for the English National Team, you will do what he says. And no, you can’t hire another physio—I won’t clear you if Zach doesn’t confirm you’re fully recovered and fit to play. After all the trouble I went through to get you the best physio, you won’t get him fired only because you don’t like him.”

The mulish expression on Tristan’s face was very familiar. Jared wondered if Tristan and Gabriel realized how similar some of their mannerisms were. They might not be related by blood and they might look nothing like each other, but Tristan had a lot in common with Gabe.


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