Playing His Game

Two weeks into their arrangement, Adam still hadn’t figured out the rules of Mo’s car thing.

It couldn’t be solely about flash or expense, because Adam had googled the weird tiny car Mo had in his garage and determined it was an old East German model that was basically made out of cardboard. Likewise, the dusty, lifted Jeep didn’t scream money (although the engine did make a lot of noise).

Tonight, Mo pulled into Adam’s driveway in the Cayenne, which Adam had internally dubbed the Douchemobile, to pick him up for his planned date.

Adam was friends with a lot of hockey players, and a lot of them had ridiculous cars. None of them had purchased a Porsche SUV and then painted it a lurid iridescent purple in order to attract as much attention as humanly possible.