Chapter 8
EIGHT
RYAN
MAY
With my cap pulled low and my shades blocking a decent portion of my face, I angled my head down, only allowing myself brief glances around the busy terminal. Steel walls filled my periphery, framing large, curved glass windows filtering in the spring morning light.
That Nate was arriving on such an early flight was a relief.
It meant the crowds were yet to swell to capacity, so I hoped to stay incognito.
It was always risky being out in the open like this, so I worked hard at blending in as much as humanly possible.
The positive was, being in LA meant I wasn’t on my own turf, where my team’s fans would much more likely spot me.
A quick glance at the time told me barely a minute had passed since the last time I’d checked. Nate should be heading through security by now, perhaps clearing customs. His flight landed almost thirty-five minutes ago.
I paid no mind to the few groups standing around me, too focused on evening my breaths and willing my heart to slow.
Shit, was feeling giddy like this really a thing?
The last time I’d been this hyped up was when waiting for the draft announcements, but something about this moment seemed different, bigger, and wasn’t that a mindfuck.
There was little doubt in my mind that Nate’s hold on me was as strong as it always was, but now, after the past four months or so of conversation—of late- and early-night calls, video chats, and texts—that hold seemed more significant.
With no chance of convincing myself it was just the excitement of seeing my childhood friend again, I didn’t even bullshit myself. What was the point?
My initial flipping out when I first saw that photo on Instagram last year told me my overreaction was more than me being a protective big brother. It was all about Nate and just how fucking gorgeous he was. The guy had me wanting things I was too terrified to dream about.
But that was then.
Now, at this moment, with this visit, everything seemed possible.
Two more minutes passed by, and a low hum buzzed through me as passengers tugging luggage, looking tired from their flight from Brisbane, poured through the automatic doorway.
I held my breath, flexing my fingers before scrunching them together, the vibrations in my fingers freaking me out.
And then he was there.
Nate was taller than most around him but a few inches shorter than my frame, all bright-eyed, with a grinning face, and making a beeline toward me.
My plan of a smile and a bro hug flew out of the window when he was in touching distance.
My large limbs wrapped him up, held him tight, and like the desperate man I was, I buried my head against his neck and inhaled.
I didn’t let go, didn’t ease up, and with Nate’s strong arms gripping me just as tightly, he didn’t seem in any rush either.
The sounds of voices close by, the increased foot traffic around us, and a slight nudge as someone rushed past me cut through the moment and the reality of the situation. I needed to get him in the car I’d organized and back to the hotel.
I eased out of Nate’s embrace, raking my gaze over him, wanting to have my fill of every single inch of the man. Unable to do so, I cleared my throat, struggling to contain the smile of happiness stretching my mouth wide. “You got everything?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, indicating his small bag at his feet and backpack on his shoulder. “We should get out of here, right? There’s only so long I expect you can blend in for, yeah?”
I snorted and bumped his shoulder with mine before leading him away. I’d organized a car with the hotel the team was staying at. As the driver took Nate’s bags off him, I was relieved I’d planned ahead. Driving when I couldn’t take my eyes off the man at my side would have been catastrophic.
“The drive should take us about half an hour,” I said to him once settled. I strapped in, legs open and breath hitching when his thigh brushed my own. He didn’t move away, nor did I. “Your flight okay?”
“Yeah… and business class?” He quirked a brow at me, but since he didn’t look too pissed off by the upgrade I’d surprised him with, I gave a one-shoulder shrug.
“Did it mean you slept so we don’t waste our day together?
” I challenged, a little sass and gruffness to my voice.
I’d arrived at LA early after negotiating with my coach to do so.
I still had training to do today, but I had plans for Nate to join me with that, so I really did hope he’d managed to sleep.
“I did, really well actually, and thank you. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate that you did.”
I grinned, pleased he’d managed to get a decent rest. “In that case, we have a busy day ahead of us. I hope you’re up for it.”
“Anything, yeah, sure. When’s your team arrive?”
I smirked, loving the nonchalance with the question, especially that it was absolutely legit. There was no stargazing or fanboying. Nate was one of the most down-to-earth blokes I knew, and time hadn’t changed that.
All time had done was make it almost impossible to keep my hands off him.
Restraint was a fuck of a thing, especially when there was so much unsaid between us.
“Did you say tomorrow?” he prompted, since I’d zoned out, wondering why I hadn’t figured how I felt about Nate much sooner.
“Yeah. They’ll be here by midday, with the game the following night.”
“Last game, huh?”
“Yeah, the Comets are high up in the Conference standings, and while we’re not ranking high, we need the points in our division.
It’ll put the team in a better standing next year, especially when it comes to trades and drafting.
We’re not in for playoffs this season.” I shrugged.
While it was gutting, considering the injuries from a few players this year, we hadn’t done so badly.
Plus my ankle still wasn’t quite right. There wasn’t a chance I’d be letting a slight twinge hold me back in my last game, though. Not with Nate finally here.
“And you were okay getting me a ticket?”
I chuckled. I had access to tickets whenever I wanted.
I usually ended up giving them away to my teammates who were chasing some.
This was the first time ever I was using a ticket for someone I cared for, someone here just for me.
“Yeah. Other than I think Marv, who deals with all ticket handling for the team, just about had a heart attack with shock when I asked him to make sure you had a good seat.”
Nate didn’t respond with more than a small smile before looking out the window at the passing cars.
Before long, we arrived at the hotel and headed up to the suite I’d secured. I led Nate in, showed him his room, and handed him a key card. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. I could do with a shower too.”
I left him to it, trying not to think about everything I wanted to discuss with him.
Today, or any day before my final game, wasn’t a good idea.
My focus needed to be on the court, not on my heart or my dick.
Instead, today and tomorrow morning, I’d concentrate on having a good time with an old friend while building in some training. Everything else would have to wait.
Since I tended to play guard when on the court and knowing the Comets and their go-to strategies, Nate and I were hot and ridiculously sweaty on the small court I’d managed to source for a couple of hours practicing my defensive plays.
Over an hour and a half in, Nate was bent over, hands on his knees and huffing heavily.
“I swear to Christ, I’m gonna throw up.” He peered up at me, still managing to shoot me a stink eye while panting so fast I was sure he would hyperventilate.
I snorted despite the twinge of concern in my gut.
Nate was a lot fitter than I expected for a guy who I figured spent most of his time working in his family store.
His frame was thicker than the last time we’d played one-on-one together, a given since over eight years had passed by.
But underneath his shorts and tee, he still appeared to be in decent shape, though I’d noticed a sliver or two of softer flesh when his top had risen. I liked it. A lot.
Being surrounded by athletic bodies, all hard lines and taut, defined muscles for sure was nice to look at. But to rub against, to grip and take comfort in, not so much.
Not that I had any experience with that, really. Certainly none since going pro.
“You ready to stop? We can.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head. “You’ve still got thirty minutes to go. What can I do, bar sitting out, that isn’t going to kill me but will be useful to you?” He heaved himself up to stand and wiped his sweaty brow.
The guy looked shattered and still all levels of appealing.
I racked my brain for what we could do to make him feel involved but without destroying him. “How about we just shoot some hoops?”
“Seriously?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay to wind down, and I can always do with the practice.”
Nate didn’t look so convinced.
“Perhaps we can make it interesting,” I offered, not quite sure where I was going with this.
“I’m listening.”
I snorted. “Okay, that was as far as I got, since drinking games are so not an option, at least for the next few days.”
The roll of his eyes sent a shot of longing straight to my heart. The familiarity of the gesture, something he did so often when we were kids when I came up with half-assed plans, was immediate.
I wished so badly I hadn’t fucked up so spectacularly.
“You all right?” Nate took a couple of steps in my direction, and I smoothed out my frown, ignoring the heavy pounding of my heart. Regrets were the worst. I needed to find a way to move on.
“Yeah. That’s my thinking face.”
Even though he snorted, the disbelief in his eyes was easy to read. Our tells were front and center, and rather than latching on to the ache they created, I snatched hard and fast to the comfort of it, of him.
“Okay, so no drinking games. How about first dibs on places to visit or food to eat?”