CHAPTER TWO
March-April
The day after the kiss, Thad was too busy setting up a photoshoot to think too much about what had happened between him and Graham.
He’d had to beg, plead, and cajole the team until he finally got a few guys to agree to model some branded gear for photos he could use on social media. It wasn’t part of their usual media duties, especially not this time of year, so it had taken a little extra coaxing.
Thad was feeling pretty good about his choices until Graham walked through the door, barely giving Thad so much as a nod hello.
Fuck.
Thankfully, Thad was nothing if not good at throwing himself into work, so he focused on tweaking lighting levels and getting the guys wrangled.
Rafe, Jesse, and Tanner were a dream to work with.
Well, Tanner had the energy of a squirrel on speed, and his focus was about as good, but the camera loved him. Jesse was gorgeous, energetic, and fun. Rafe, that big, beautiful himbo of a man, was easy. He went where Thad told him and didn’t get easily distracted.
But Graham … he was definitely acting uncharacteristically weird.
Halfway through the shoot, Thad finally had to pull Graham aside during a clothing change and remind him they had jobs to do.
Thad might have gotten this position with the Harriers out of desperation when the social media coordinator position at a startup he’d been hired at had gone belly-up, leaving him with a lease to pay and no income, but he genuinely fucking loved his job working for the team.
He was good at it.
Certainly better than the people who’d been in charge of this shit before. He wasn’t about to risk this position when it was the most stable six months he’d experienced since he left Pine Grove Correctional Facility fourteen years ago.
Thad definitely wasn’t about to let Graham fuck that up for him because he was having a crisis about his sexuality or whatever.
Thankfully, reminding Graham to act professional seemed to snap him out of the weirdness.
After that, Graham went back to acting like nothing had happened.
Oh, occasionally he’d get tongue-tied when Thad flirted with him like he always had, or study Thad’s face when he thought he wasn’t looking.
But as March turned into April, Graham acted almost aggressively normal.
He continued to invite Thad out for wings and a beer and to watch a game at their favorite sports bar. He laughed at the jokey memes Thad sent him that made fun of hockey players. And Graham even sent him a link to a photography exhibition in Chicago when the team was on the road.
He’d turned down Thad’s invite to go with him to check it out, but only because the guys were doing some team-bonding thing that evening.
Thad finally decided he could stop worrying he’d fucked up their friendship by kissing him back.
Maybe it had been a weird aberration. A strange, momentary misfire of the wiring in Graham’s head. Maybe he was straight and had gotten curious for long enough to kiss Thad, then realized it wasn’t for him.
Thad might not be able to say a lot for himself, or the choices he’d made in his life, but he could say without any hesitation that everyone he’d ever kissed, everyone he’d ever had sex with, had been eagerly and enthusiastically into it.
Even Teddy Ellison.
When the slight, somewhat effeminate guy had sidled up to Thad shortly after he was sentenced to five years in Pine Grove Correctional Facility, Thad hadn’t fully understood the complicated interpersonal dynamics among incarcerated young men.
He’d understood what Teddy was looking for, however.
Thad had been solidly built from years of hockey training and knew how to fight. Teddy had seen an opportunity for protection.
Feeling sorry for his new cellmate, Thad had made sure everyone knew he’d be looking out for Teddy in the future and anyone who crossed him would regret it.
Thad hadn’t expected Teddy to slide into his bunk later that night after lights were out to ‘thank’ him for what he’d done, but on previous nights, Thad had sometimes heard quiet murmurs and the soft sounds in the bunks around theirs, and he’d figured, well, a guy had to do what he could to get by.
He hadn’t taken Teddy up on his offer that night though.
Thad had felt weird about the quid pro quo, but as he spent more time with Teddy, as he too longed for comfort, for a release … well, he’d finally agreed to what Teddy was offering.
And it had been good. He’d liked Teddy and his quick, sharp wit. He’d liked the feel of Teddy’s body against his and Teddy’s smile.
Teddy was probably the closest Thad had ever gotten to a relationship, and didn’t that say a lot about what his life had been like until now.
But of all the things Thad had felt ashamed of in his life, finding comfort with Teddy wasn’t one of them.
Taunting Graham after the kiss was, however.
Thad didn’t exactly regret the kiss itself. Graham had initiated it. But Thad could have been less of a dick after Graham pulled away.
Graham had been interested until he wasn’t and if his interest had evaporated as quickly as it had happened or it wasn’t something Graham wanted to admit to himself, well, that was his business.
It wasn’t Thad’s job to help the dude figure out his sexuality.
So they were friends who didn’t talk about the very, very hot kiss they’d shared one night.
Whatever.
There were plenty of other people willing to go to bed with him so there was no reason for Thad to think about what the curve of Graham’s surprisingly full lips had felt like against his own or the hectic color in his cheeks after he pulled back.
There was no reason to think about the width of his shoulders or the way his ass filled out the sweats he wore.
Just because Thad did anyway, just because he sometimes wished he didn’t know what it felt like to have Graham pull him closer or that his cologne smelled like citrus and rain, well … that was between him and the privacy of his own thoughts.
Restless tonight, Thad drained his beer and stood, weaving through the crowd at O’Neill’s Pub. The Irish bar was packed, players and staff mingling as they celebrated the end of the season.
It hadn’t been a good end. Their attempt at even making it to the playoffs had been embarrassingly weak.
But there was hope the next season might be better.
And hockey players, coaches, upper management, and fans all lived for the next season. A better roster, more luck, the hockey gods’ favor smiling on them a little more brightly.
There was hope.
But Thad wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful as he pushed through the door of the pub and out onto the back patio. Mostly, he felt tired. And old.
It had rained earlier, so the enclosed patio was empty of people, with droplets of water pooling on the stone and glistening in the glow of the string lights crisscrossed over the damp tables and chairs.
With a relieved sigh, Thad slipped a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, guiltily lighting one. He’d been trying to stop, trying to quit the habit that ate into his budget and was certainly shortening his life.
But the heady rush of nicotine never got old and, well, this wasn’t a vice that would get him in trouble.
Unless his brother saw it.
Things were better with Gavin than they had been when Thad had showed up at the Harriers Community Ice Complex last fall.
And, if Thad was being honest with himself, blackmailed Gavin into finding him a job.
Thad could tell himself he’d been driven by desperation and it had all worked out in the end, but it didn’t stop the flicker of guilt he felt at having done it.
Thad had never actually planned on following through, never planned to tell anyone the robbery he’d gone to jail for had actually been Gavin’s crime.
They weren’t identical twins, but at the age of eighteen, on grainy CCTV footage, they’d looked similar enough no one had questioned Thad’s confession.
No one had doubted him when he’d signed the paperwork that sent him to prison for five years.
Which had, eventually, turned into ten thanks to a choice he’d made once inside.
Thad was still perversely proud of the decision to save his brother.
Because he knew what would have happened if Gavin had gone to prison. He’d have wound up ruining his entire life. He’d have wound up dead or a lifer.
Instead, Thad had given his brother a chance to turn his life around. And Gavin had.
His NHL career had been a flop, but he’d still wound up the general manager of an NHL franchise. Of the Boston Harriers, an organization with a long history and a hell of a lot of cachet.
And Thad had played a part in that.
However unseen, however unknown by the world, that was something he could be proud of. As pissed as he’d been that Gavin had never visited him in prison, he hadn’t torpedoed Gavin’s life by blasting the truth to the world.
It would have been almost painfully easy.
But while, at times, Thad might have wanted to punish his twin for abandoning him, he loved him too much to make him suffer by taking away everything he’d worked so hard for.
The door opened, the noise of the party spilling out into the back patio, and Thad hastily stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall and tossed it into a nearby bush.
There was no hope of hiding the scent on his breath or his clothing.
All he could do was pray the fresh spring breeze would waft it away.
Thad glanced over, relieved to see it was Graham who’d stepped through the door and let it close behind him.
“Let me guess,” Graham said drily. “You were smoking.”
Better Graham than Gavin.
Graham gave Thad shit about his vices too, but at least he couldn’t lecture Thad about shared genetic risk factors and their family history.
Thad shrugged and held up his empty hands. “Do I look like I was smoking?”
Graham stepped closer, wrinkling his nose. “No, but you smell like it.”
Thad scowled. Damn him. “Did you come out here to give me shit?”
“No. I came out here because I thought you’d left without saying goodbye.”