16. Gabe
16 /
gabe
With our relationship finally settled, the next month was like stepping into a new life. For the first time, I was with someone who wanted me for me , not what I could do for them. Brody had his own fame, and as well as he was playing, it grew with every game. He didn’t need things like money, public attention, or clout from me.
Gone were the days of carefully scripted public appearances, where my guy of the month and I would arrive at precisely the right moment to maximize the flashbulb frenzy. No more walking into a room on cue, kissing someone who cared more about getting the shot right for their followers than how the kiss felt. With Brody, there were no more performances, no staged moments. We were just us. Gabe plus Brody equaled something I’d only dreamed of—contentment.
Despite the peace in my personal life, December had been chaos for the Warriors. Our schedule was brutal, crammed with games and dogged by bad weather. A snowstorm in Chicago nearly derailed everything, and we barely made it to Columbus for our next matchup after the team rented vans to haul us across the Midwest tundra. By the night of the twenty-third, the entire team was ready for a break.
The league always scheduled a three-day holiday hiatus, with no games from December 24 to 26. After grinding out a win in Philly, we boarded the team plane for Buffalo, eager for what little downtime we would have. Brody and I had snagged two seats in the rear of the cabin, and after the flight attendants dimmed the lights, we leaned against each other. He slipped his hand into mine, his touch a reminder of everything we were discovering together.
I wished the night could last forever because the truth made my heart shrink. This would be our first Christmas as a couple, but it wouldn’t be our first one spent together. Before we were us , we’d made plans to visit our families for the holidays. In the morning, Brody would be on the first plane out of Buffalo to visit his mother in St. Pete, and I’d be on a later plane to Charlotte to spend the holiday with my sister and her family. It was practical, and it would be fun, but it was no longer what I wanted.
“I’m going to miss you, babe.” I spoke softly since Holky and Harpy were sitting two rows in front of us.
“I’ll miss you too.” Brody raised my hand to his lips for a kiss. “You realize this will be our first separation since the start of the season?”
“I know it, all right.” Not wanting to make the time we had left a downer, I tried to keep my voice light, but one of the things about Brody was that I didn’t have to hide my feelings from him. Honesty was our policy, and it was serving us well. Leaning closer to his ear, I whispered, “Why the fuck didn’t I call my trip off? We could’ve spent the time together.”
He rubbed a thumb against mine. “I wish we could, but I’d still have to go to Florida. Mom would’ve never let me out of it.”
“I’d have gone with you, then.”
Brody squeezed my hand and shushed me. When Harpy looked back, I realized I’d spoken much louder than I intended to.
“Everything okay back there?” he asked. “It’s your first Christmas, so don’t fight.”
“What the?—”
“Sh!” Brody squeezed my hand again, then whispered, “Keep it down.”
“But he said?—”
“I know, but how many times have you said something like that to a road buddy over the years?”
“You’ve got a point there. I’m on edge because of this separation.” Brody was right because I might have said something similar to Harpy and Holky if one of them had raised his voice. Road buddies, road wives, road hubbies, IBs—ice boyfriends—were common terms used on team trips. It was inevitable that guys paired off to some extent since some people got along better than others.
“We still have tonight,” Brody whispered. “Otto and I are staying at your place, remember? And I expect more than cuddling.”
I chuckled. “You’ll get it, too.”
Memories of what we’d gotten up to on the team bus came back to me, and I wondered if we had time for a repeat on the Warriors’ plane. Sadly, just as I decided to go for it, a flight attendant announced that we were on our approach to Buffalo Niagara Airport, and the cabin lights came back on. The holiday shenaniganry would have to wait until we got home.
An hour later, they proved to be the sexiest shenanigans ever. Brody stopped by Em’s to pick up Otto for the night, and I planned to take him back to her on my way to the airport in the morning. When Brody and Otto arrived at my house, Brody mentioned needing the bathroom and said he’d meet me in the bedroom. After making sure the house was in order and turning off the lights, I headed that way—and froze in the doorway as soon as I arrived.
Lying on my bed was a breathtaking six-foot-three, 225-pound man dressed in nothing but a blue thong. It may have been the same color as his eyes, but I couldn’t look away from the tiny garment—and the evidence of what was inside it—long enough to compare.
A mischievous grin spread across his face. “You gonna stand there looking at me all night? Come on, we don’t have much time.”
I started across the room, shedding clothes as I went, and tripped over my boxers as I kicked them off. Fortunately, I landed on the bed, where I wasted no time collecting a big kiss, getting my guy to flip over, and doing what you do when an irresistible man is wearing a thong: I pushed the strap to the side, made quick work of the lube, and went to town.
A few hours later, after we fucked twice and fell unconscious from exhaustion, a horrible screeching noise brought me around.
“The fucking shit is that?” Brody asked, pulling a pillow over his head.
I needed to go look at the panel to find out which smoke alarm was going off, but as soon as my feet hit the floor, I realized the sound was only the alarm clock. “I hate this fucking thing,” I growled, silencing it by slamming my fist on the snooze button. Then I crawled back under the comforter and cuddled up next to Brody, who mercifully let me under the pillow so I could kiss him.
Too soon, the goddamn alarm was shrieking again. I pushed the off button and slapped Brody’s ass through the comforter. It didn’t seem to have much effect, so after I pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants, I went over to his side of the bed and shook him awake. “You’d better get the fuck up or you’ll miss your plane. I’ll go make coffee while you shower.”
I was pouring the beans into the grinder when Brody called out from the bedroom. “Holy fucking shit, what is this? Gabe, come here!”
Hoping nothing was wrong, I took off for the bedroom. I was still half asleep and my voice was edgier than I intended. “What the fuck is it? We’re saying ‘fuck’ too much this morning instead of doing it.”
He stood in front of the window with the drapes pulled back enough to see outside.
“Brody?”
Wordlessly, he motioned me over. When he let me into the drapes beside him, I stared out into something I couldn’t comprehend. Though it was still dark, the world was bright, and it took too long to realize it had snowed overnight. “Damn,” I mumbled, “there was a fucking blizzard.”
Brody put his arm around my back and pulled me close. “Not just was. It’s still coming down.”
Between the Weather Channel and the apps on our phones, we soon had official confirmation of what we’d already figured out: an unexpected blizzard had blown in from Lake Erie and buried Western New York under a shit-ton of snow. A reporter said the airport was closed, then reported that Buffalo already had fourteen inches on the ground, and we should expect at least another eight.
Brody and I gaped at each other for a few seconds before we both yelled at the same time.
“Woo-hoo!” he shouted. “Sorry Mom, but I can’t go to Florida.”
“Hallelujah!” I bellowed. “We can both stay here.”
We threw our arms around each other and danced around like crazy men. Since Brody was naked, I quickly shed my clothes so we could burrow back under the covers. It was too cold to fuck on top of them.