Unrivaled, page 17
“Fuck no. I’m not going to New Brunswick. There’s, like, six feet of snow.” It’d take him the entire break to dig his car out. “We’re going to Florida. But it’s fine. We’ll just tell them the truth—you’re hanging out with me so your sister can get a second shot with the one that got away. They’re big suckers for True Love.”
Squinting, Grady said, “That’s not the truth, though.”
Max snorted. “Isn’t it?”
“Amanda’s girlfriend is coming.” He sounded unsure. “What am I supposed to tell Jess?”
If he didn’t want to come, he could say no instead of prolonging Max’s agony. “Look, if you don’t want to—”
“I do!” he said. He looked surprised at himself, but he didn’t take it back. Instead he said, “I’ll figure out what to tell Jess tomorrow.” Then, “Thanks.”
Christ. Max took the last of the joint from Grady’s unresisting hand and finished it off in one deep pull. When he exhaled, he pretended it had eased the anxious knot in his chest. “Don’t mention it.”
MAX LEFT before noon the following day, apparently needed back in Newark for evaluation. Afterward the house felt too quiet, which rankled because Grady had lived alone for eight years. A few days with a houseguest shouldn’t have been enough to shift his baseline.
God only knew how he’d feel after Christmas, after spending three days in a house with Max’s family. He’d probably have to start sleeping with the TV on.
Truth told, he felt a little weird about agreeing to spend the holidays with Max, but he couldn’t deny it solved his problem. Jess would be able to go on her trip with Amanda and company guilt-free. Grady would probably get laid. If Max’s family members were anything like him, they wouldn’t care that Grady played for a rival team, and if for some reason things went south, they’d be in Florida, so at least Grady could escape someplace warm and sandy.
Which left only the logistics of telling Jess.
Fortunately, Grady had accidentally come up with the perfect strategy when he gave her the names-redacted account of his “date” with Max. Grady picked up his phone and sent her a text.
Bad news/good news. Bad news: I quit internet dating. Good news: Going to Florida with Shithead for Christmas.
The house stopped feeling so quiet after that, because Jess called him within five minutes. “I cannot wait to hear this.”
“Hi to you too,” Grady said.
“Don’t even, little brother. First you’re having hot dates at the American Ninja Warrior gym, then you’re having super competitive sex with the guy, all the while complaining that he’s as much of an asshole as you are, and now you’re spending the holidays with him. I’m going to need details. Not sex ones!” she added quickly.
He tried not to smile at how easily she’d taken the bait. “He invited me to spend Christmas with his family in Florida.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Wait, have you been fucking this guy the whole time? In between all your other dates?”
Now he needed to choose his words carefully. He didn’t like lying to Jess, even if it was for her own good. “It was casual.” It was still casual, but Jess didn’t need to know that.
“Except what, now you’ve decided you have feelings so you’re giving up on dating anyone else?”
No, Grady wanted to say. But that was exactly what he needed her to think. And….
And he was giving up on dating, and in part it was because he didn’t want to be with anyone but Max. He’d gone on a very nice date with someone else and had a good time and thought about Max the whole while. Max had left his house and Grady immediately felt the loss of him—off-kilter in his own home.
But it was still casual… wasn’t it?
He cleared his throat and pushed aside a wave of impending panic. It was casual. Everything was fine. “Something like that.”
“Oh my God. Grady. Only you.” She was laughing, though. “God, I told you so. Are you going to tell me his real name now?”
Ah, fuck, he hadn’t thought of a good way to evade that question. “If we’re still together at the trade deadline I’ll tell you everything.”
There was a suspicious pause. “At?” Jess asked.
Shit. “By,” Grady corrected. At maybe made it too obvious Shithead was another hockey player.
“Uh-huh,” Jess said. “All right. Fine. You held up your end of the deal, so I guess I have to go skiing.”
“Please. How many black leggings and soft sweaters with too-long sleeves have you bought for this trip?” Grady knew how Jess dressed when she wanted to appear touchable. She had it down to an art form.
Now she mock gasped. “How dare you.” But he heard the grin in her voice. “You should see this cable-knit scoop neck I bought. It is softer than a newborn puppy and I look like I belong in a Nespresso commercial.”
Grady snorted. That was Jess, all right. “You’re a terror, sis.”
“You’re damn right.”
MAX SLOTTED back into the Monsters’ lineup two days after he left Grady’s, but he was only back for one game before their star defenseman took an awkward fall into the boards and went out with a hip injury.
On the one hand, that sucked. The Monsters had a lot of firepower, but they’d built their defensive core around Jimmy, and the whole team felt his absence. Their first game without him should’ve been a blowout—they were playing Winnipeg, who were currently in last place in the Central Division—but they barely eked out a win, 4–3 in overtime.
Max liked a lot of things about his job. He loved the game, loved his teammates, loved the fans. Truth told he loved being the center of attention. He’d miss all of that when he inevitably got too old for pro hockey.
But he’d never miss the spicy takes from Twitter, the fan sites, and even the beat reporters who covered the team. A rumor that the Monsters were days away from trading Hedgie for a replacement defenseman kept him from dwelling on his holiday plans. He could’ve done without the stress for El, though.
Between games, practices, and travel, Max had barely enough time to confirm the last details of the vacation rental with his mom. He didn’t have to worry about Christmas shopping—he rented the house and paid for groceries and travel for his family as their gift. Max might only be able to stay for a few days, but he rented the house for two weeks so everyone else could enjoy some time away from the snow. Both Logan and Nora had seasonal affective disorder, and the injection of sunshine helped them get through the long winter.
Of course, Max liked spoiling Logan’s kids, so he’d gotten the family Disney passes and, to make it up to their parents, virtual reality headsets that would keep the little ones busy in the event of poor weather or a day spent recovering from sunburn.
But apparently his mother wasn’t on board with Max’s plan of “not worrying about the holidays.” He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the bedside clock in the hotel room as her voice came through the phone. “… and I set up the grocery delivery for the day we arrive, so we’ll be all set when we get there.”
It had gotten to the part of the hockey season where Max’s body didn’t know what time zone it was in, just that it was tired all the time. But those words woke him up. “Oh shit.”
“What do you mean, ‘oh shit’? Don’t you mean ‘thanks, Mom’?”
He put the phone on speaker so he could turn onto his side and curl up. “I do mean ‘thanks, Mom.’ The ‘oh shit’ was for me. I forgot to tell you we’re going to have one more.”
“One more what?”
He bit his lip. “Guest.”
“Oh! Do we have enough bedrooms? Do we need to look into getting another place? I think all the beds are spoken for, but there might be a pull-out—”
This was her subtle way of asking whether Max and his guest were sleeping together. “It’s fine. He can share with me.”
“So it’s that kind of friend! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!”
It’s complicated didn’t cover this situation. Fortunately his mother was used to her children bringing strays home for the holidays, including Max’s occasional casual sex partners. “I’m not. I mean, he really is just a friend.” Maybe Grady wouldn’t put it that way, but Max couldn’t afford to spend a lot of time having feelings about that. “Sometimes we have sex, but seriously. Just friends.”
“Okay, sweetheart. As long as you’re being careful.”
She said the same thing to his sister when she dated, so Max didn’t take it personally. “Promise, Mom.”
“Well, I’ll add another adult’s worth of food to the grocery order.”
Yeah, that wouldn’t be enough. “Better make it another me worth of food.” A hockey player’s midseason calorie intake was more than twice the average adult’s.
“Oh?” Max knew that voice. That was her I’m about to go fishing voice. “Who is this friend? Someone from work? Do I know him?”
Unbidden, Max got a mental image of his parents’ faces when Max showed up at Christmas with his media-designated archrival in tow. “You’ll meet him soon enough.”
“Max! So mysterious!”
“Sorry, Mom. A guy’s got to have a few secrets in his life, eh?”
“I can’t believe you’re going to keep me in suspense.” She tutted teasingly. “See if you get anything but coal in your stocking this year.”
However enthusiastic his mother was, Max didn’t expect the two thousand questions Grady fired at him in the weeks leading up to the break. Things like Is Gru coming along? and Does your mom have any hobbies? He wanted to know the names and ages of Max’s brother’s kids, and what his sister was like, and did his dad drink scotch.
It took Max longer than it should’ve to realize Grady was trying to figure out what to get people for Christmas.
Max almost sent him a message to say he didn’t have to do that. Nobody would expect Grady to get them anything. Their relationship was casual. Hell, Max wasn’t planning on getting Grady anything either. He’d made it clear where they stood—they had a weird friendship and great sexual chemistry.
And then he remembered Grady’s parents were dead and the only family the guy had left was abandoning him for the holidays to get closure with the woman who’d left her when she became Grady’s legal guardian, and he physically could not do it. He couldn’t tell Grady not to pretend he was having a normal family Christmas for the first time in fifteen years.
But he also couldn’t let Grady come to Christmas and not receive any presents.
Fucking shit, he was going to have to buy a gift for someone who legitimately had a subscription to Consumer Reports—a man who Max was in love with and who could not find that out. Max’s life was officially the worst.
Due to the game schedule, Grady couldn’t fly out with Max and Gru. Instead, he flew right from his last game in Nashville, and Max met him at the airport in Miami, hoping to every deity that no one recognized either of them and took a picture for the internet.
“Nice goal last night,” Grady commented when he met Max in baggage claim. “You really committed.”
Max had basically followed the puck into the net because Kipriyanov tripped him, which was the only reason the goal hadn’t been called off for goaltender interference. “Commitment is my middle name,” he said, and then immediately wanted to punch himself in the face.
Fortunately Grady wasn’t paying him any attention—he was down by Max’s feet, ruffling Gru’s ears. “Hey, buddy. Were you a good boy on the flight? Ready to get out of here?”
Gru licked his chin.
Max refused to be jealous of his dog, even if it had been weeks since he’d gotten his mouth on any part of Grady’s body. Time to get going. The sooner they got to the house, the sooner he could rectify that problem. “You get everything?”
“Shockingly, the airline did not lose my luggage.” He stood up and gestured to the full-size suitcase behind him.
“Holy shit. You know we’re only here for three days, right?”
Grady’s cheeks went slightly pink as he tugged up the handle of the rolling bag. “The presents wouldn’t fit in a carry-on. But I could take yours back if you want—”
Max mentally upgraded his punishment from punching himself in the face to kicking his own ass. If Grady was this adorably awkward for the next three days, Max would give himself away in seconds, and wouldn’t that be uncomfortable for Grady, having to share a bedroom with him while being aware Max had somehow caught feelings.
Yikes.
“Let’s not be hasty.” He grabbed his own bag—a much more reasonably sized one, because Max had only had to pack real presents for Grady and Gru—and led the way toward the arrivals area. Gru trotted along beside him, nails clacking on the floor.
“Hey, hold up a second.” Grady had taken a slight right and had to correct himself to catch up. “Don’t we need to go to the rental car counter?”
Max slowed down enough to be able to glance over without running into someone. “Nah. My parents drove down. They’re picking us up.”
Grady’s eyes went wide and he caught his foot on the edge of a stray carpet. He righted himself before he could fall. “They drove down from New Brunswick?”
“They like having a car when they’re down here. Plus my dad hates air travel.”
Grady puffed his cheeks out on an exhale. “I guess that makes sense. But you couldn’t have given me a heads-up I’m meeting your parents first thing? What’s our story?”
Max snorted. “Bit late to ask now, bud.”
Grady bumped his shoulder.
“It’s fine. I told them the truth—we’re friends who sleep together.”
If Grady disputed the term friends, Max was going back to the departures desk to book himself a ticket to Antarctica. But he simply said, “And they’re cool with that? Even though your niece and nephew are going to be there?”
“What, you think my brother raised his kids to be homophobic?” Max asked, amused.
“I just don’t want to explain ‘friends with benefits’ to an eight-year-old.”
Okay, that was fair. Max wheeled his bag through the exterior door and grinned as the humid Miami air swamped him. “We can leave it at ‘friends’ for the ankle-biters. Tell them we’re having a sleepover.”
Grady laughed. “Are we going to stay up late and talk about our crushes?”
Max’s heart squeezed. “I was thinking more lingerie-clad pillow fights, but if gossip’s your thing—”
“Max! Over here!”
Showtime.
“Game face on,” Max said. “Here’s your last warning—my mom’s a lot.”
“What a surprise.”
That was the last thing he heard before his mom launched herself into his arms. “Merry Christmas, nerd!” She smacked a kiss on his cheek and then pulled away. “Your father’s waiting in the car. He sent me to find you.”
Before Max could react, she’d reached for his bag, leaving him holding Gru’s leash, and turned to Grady. “And this must be—”
The words cut off, and Max turned to watch the look of realization dawn on her face.
Grady let go of his suitcase and held out his hand to shake. “Hi. Um, I’m—”
“Grady Armstrong.” Max’s mom sounded like she was meeting Elvis or something. She took his hand in both of hers. “Hello. I’m Linda.”
“Nice to meet you, Linda.” Grady smiled—the real one that made Max’s breath catch. “Thanks for letting me join you.”
“Oh, any friend of Max’s,” she said with a pointed look in Max’s direction. “Come on, car’s this way.”
Grady followed after her with a bemused smile.
Max sighed and glanced down at Gru. “Buddy, are we gonna hear it later.”
Then he hurried to catch up. He didn’t want to miss his dad’s reaction.
GRADY MET Linda first, and the expression she leveled at Max let him know that Max had been a little vague about who was coming for the holidays. Grady couldn’t exactly blame him, since it wasn’t like he’d been forthcoming with Jess.
They put their bags in the trunk of a white SUV with New Brunswick plates, and then Linda got in the front and Max opened the rear driver’s side door. “Hey, Dad,” he said cheerfully as Grady got in on the other side. “Merry Christmas. This is Grady.”
“Oh you little shit,” said Max’s dad.
Grady was pretty sure he was talking to Max.
Then he continued, “I owe your mother twenty bucks.”
Max cackled.
His dad turned around in his seat and offered Grady his hand. “Big Max.”
Of course he was. “Grady.”
“Oh, I know.” He shook his head. “Max played this one close to the chest.”
Grady looked at Max, who was still grinning. “Something tells me he enjoyed it.”
Max had been right about his family—they were nuts. Grady didn’t mind, though. It was kind of like spending the holidays with a multigenerational coed hockey team, but not like the Firebirds or his juniors team—one that actually liked each other.
Nora had graduated dentistry school in April, but she wasn’t allowed to do Max’s teeth because, in her words, “After the way we went at each other as kids, he’s not letting me near his face with a drill.” She had the same manic gleam to her eyes Max got when he was about to start shit, so Grady figured that was probably the right call.
Stay-at-home-dad Logan was built more like Big Max, who stood close to six foot four, than his brother. Maybe that explained why his kids, Carly and Milo, seemed to view him as a human jungle gym. Tanya, his wife, worked as a software developer; she took one look at Grady and said, “Oh thank God, a sane person.”
Behind her, Logan covered a laugh. “Babe, that’s Grady Armstrong. Max’s, like, archnemesis from the Firebirds.”
“Nemesis is such a strong word,” Max said, at which point Carly and Milo swarmed him demanding he throw them in the pool.
