CHAPTER TWO #2
“I’m not the one leaving the city for the off-season,” Thad pointed out. “Unlike you, I’ll be working this summer.”
Players might scatter to the winds at the end of a season, but Thad would be staying right here in Boston, covering the Pride and Juneteenth events the organization sponsored and took part in.
He’d go to the draft and the awards, cover the prospect camp.
He’d be at the combine and post about the free agency trades and start teasing the upcoming season.
Graham whacked him on the arm. “Fuck you, dude, I train hard.”
“Oh yeah. All of that boating on Grand Traverse Bay, dude.”
Graham might have grown up in Pennsylvania, and he was planning to visit his family there for a few weeks, but he’d also gone to Michigan State University for school and had fallen in love with northern Michigan.
He had a lakeside cottage and a speedboat up near Traverse City, and his buddies would visit.
But not Thad.
Because he and Graham might be friends, but he hadn’t invited Thad to visit this summer.
And it was fine. Thad got it.
They were friends but not that kind of friends. They lived in two very, very different worlds.
Graham with his millions of dollars and his blond-haired, blue-eyed, wholesome good looks. The kind of guy who could play Captain America in a movie or something.
Compare that to Thad’s laughably small bank account and rapidly turning silver hair. Even if the dye he used managed to hide the signs of ageing most of the time, he was on the wrong side of forty and no one would mistake him for a superhero.
They were not the same. And they never would be.
Now, Graham was muttering something about his training program and the fancy training camp he’d go to in Chicago later in the summer and it was fine.
“Try not to miss me too much when you’re gone.”
Graham scowled. Which, unfortunately, did not make him any less attractive.
From his short blond hair, full lips and cleft jaw to his broad shoulders and chest, and solid quads, he was too tempting for Thad to ignore.
Too tempting to not feel a pulse of want every time Thad looked at him.
Especially when he was a couple of drinks in and feeling a little reckless, like he was at the moment.
“I think I’ll manage,” Graham said.
“Be careful not to kiss any of your other buddies this summer,” Thad said mockingly. “They might not be as understanding about it as I was.”
Or, maybe they would. Hockey was pretty queer these days.
But the barbed remark had hit its mark and the color drained from Graham’s face as he sputtered, “It was one kiss!”
“And you broke up with your girlfriend immediately after,” Thad reminded him. He was refusing to think about Graham immediately dating another woman after that, another pretty blonde.
“I felt guilty for kissing someone else! It was the right thing to do,” Graham argued.
“Or I’m that good.” Thad smirked. “I mean, you claimed to be straight and yet …”
“I am straight,” Graham protested.
“Good for you,” Thad said with a snort. “I’m not. And, hey, you know what? I think I’ll get out of here. Go hook up with the guy who’s been sending me pics all night.”
“Go for it,” Graham said, jutting out his jaw. “It’s not like I care.”
“No?” Thad grabbed Graham’s shoulder and hip, spinning him and pressing him against the rough brick wall of the pub.
He rested his forearm against the wall, drinking in the hitch in Graham’s breathing as he leaned in.
He dragged his nose up the side of Graham’s throat and felt as much as heard the reflexive swallow.
Dizzy from the scent of his body, Thad pressed a soft kiss to Graham’s stubbled jaw. “You really don’t want me?”
Graham shivered, his hand closing on Thad’s shoulder, fingers biting in. He let out a ragged breath but just when Thad thought Graham might grab him and pull him in for a kiss, he let out a soft, rough sound and pushed him away.
Thad stumbled back and by the time he righted himself, Graham was pacing between the tables, frowning.
“I don’t fucking know what I want,” he said roughly and he sounded so … so conflicted Thad regretted he’d pushed him. Regretted he’d never learned to leave well enough alone.
Regretted he was good at knowing how to get under people’s skin and that he always, always had to push people to their breaking point. It was like a compulsion.
A habit as hard to shake as smoking.
“Maybe I do want you,” Graham said softly. So softly Thad had to strain to hear him. “But I—I think I let that distract me at the end of this season. I didn’t—I didn’t focus the way I needed to. If I’d have played better, we might have—”
“We’d still have gotten knocked out too early,” Thad pointed out with a tired sigh. “We didn’t have the depth this season or the luck and we both know it.”
“But maybe I could have … you never know. It’s the playoffs. Anything can happen.”
“Maybe,” Thad agreed.
Graham closed his eyes, his handsome face twisting. “I can’t do this, Thad. I can’t … I can’t be thinking about you when I’m trying to stick to the plan and focus on hockey.”
Thad stepped forward, realizing Graham was actually shaking now, his whole body shivering with these fine tremors like he was holding himself together through great force of will.
Shit. This was a bigger deal than he’d realized.
Graham opened his eyes, his expression still conflicted but determined.
“Okay.” Thad held up his hands and stepped away, putting space between their bodies. “Okay. Have a good summer then, I guess.”
The words felt entirely inadequate, but apparently they were enough because Graham let out a huge, relieved-sounding breath. “Yeah, you too.”
“Thanks.” Thad smiled tightly. “See you in the fall.”