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remember, though, was that it just didn’t matter.

Chapter Five
     
    It took a lot of time and effort, but by early summer, the spacious one-bedroom apartment next to Alexei’s was ready for occupancy. Provided, of course, that Alexei could find a tenant who didn’t mind paying him under the table. Or tromping through the still-filthy warehouse. Or riding up in the freight elevator. Or the one thousand code violations in the hallway to their door.
    Right.
    Fortunately, there was a solution. Mike was moving in.
    He already spent far more time at the warehouse than at his own apartment anyway. Before games, after practice, and the rare free day had all been spent working with Alexei on the apartment. Mike hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been until he’d shared countless meals sitting on the floor or at Alexei’s table. Spent hours talking while they worked, or collapsed with a beer on Alexei’s big couch afterwards to review all they’d accomplished.
    This place already felt like home. Moving in, at this point, was more of a formality.
    “Hey, you going to stare off into space all afternoon, or are you going to lift the other half of this goddamn rug?”
    Alexei’s voice cut through Mike’s wandering thoughts and brought him back to the dimly lit hallway. They’d just started unloading his stuff, but it wouldn’t take long to finish the job. Everything he owned had easily fit in the gigantic lift.
    “I still think it would have been easier to drive my car into the elevator and unload it up here.”
    Alexei shot him a look. “It would be easier if you picked up the other end of this rug and got to work.”
    Mike suppressed a smile. “Yeah, sure. Sorry about that.”
    He lifted his end, laughing when Alexei yanked and almost took him off his feet.
    Jerk .
    Muscling the thick roll through the door, Mike felt the same buzz of satisfaction he got every time he saw the results of their hard work. The polyurethane was barely dry on the hardwoods and the walls still smelled vaguely of paint, but he and Alexei had agreed the move had to be today. The post-season started tomorrow night, and for the next few weeks they would be completely focused on getting the Ice Cats to the championship.
    It had been a great season, but for Mike, the best part was this. He glanced around his new living room as they unrolled the rug and squabbled over where to put it.
    Not surprisingly, Alexei had a strong opinion. So did Mike.
    It had taken less than a day working together for Mike to figure out that even after months of friendship, he hadn’t really known Alexei. For starters, the easy-going prankster the team all loved was actually a bossy son of a bitch. He loved to argue. And when he felt passionately about something, his cheeks flushed, his eyes danced, and he threw himself into the debate.
    It was sexy as hell.
    Alexei listened. Argued. Laughed.
    And occasionally, conceded. “Fine! You’re right. The rug is better there,” Alexei said, throwing up his hands.
    Mike smiled.
    The real Alexei was a passionate and private man. Mike would bet everyone on the team assumed the same thing Mike once had—that someone as loud and gregarious as Alexei wasn’t hiding a thing—but they’d be wrong.
    Alexei was quiet. Thoughtful. And brilliant. He spoke three languages fluently, a secret he had managed to keep until Mike caught him reading Les Miserables . In French . He loved to play chess, and cook, and work on his properties. He could completely eliminate his accent in the blink of an eye, negotiating with the local lumber yard like he’d been born within a ten-mile radius, then dial what Mike called his “Boris” accent up so thick, Mike could barely keep a straight face as the people around him struggled to understand a single word.
    The truth was a gentle lilt that Mike would gladly listen to all day. And had.
    He dropped a box against the wall next to the bookcases and stepped aside so Alexei could also set down his