Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
PEARCE
The rest of April and practically the month of May passed by in a blur of games, traveling, and tired phone calls with Eddie.
There was admittedly of lot of need and just a little bit of pining in said calls too.
But despite my pity party of missing Eddie more than I thought a man could miss another human being, I knew it was all worth it.
Through hard work and a few miracles, the Eagles blasted through the semifinals. By the time it got to the conference finals, the team was flying high while equally dreading the next game—the fifth in the round—would be our last.
Every game in truth tested our strength, our abilities, our absolute doggedness to win the game and push on through.
But fuck, I was tired.
Relief that I had just two more days before the last game in this round kept me going. Then I’d either have the luxury of six whole days before the final round, or I’d be commiserating with my teammates and catching up on a shitload of sleep.
The biggest relief was our final game in round three was with the Jetts, taking place in Eddie’s home city, Chicago. It made my bobbing knee even more noticeable, which apparently pissed Cassius off.
“I swear if you don’t stop, I’m going to stab you in the thigh with my fork.”
Rather than stop bouncing my knee, I angled my head to stare at Cassius, who sat by my side on the hour and a half flight. “I think Coach wouldn’t like that so much. Let’s ask him, shall we?” My wide grin didn’t earn me a smile back. “Hey, Coach,” I hollered.
A loud groan preceded Coach’s “What is it, Malcolm?”
“Cass is threatening to fork me,” I whined, earning me a chuckle from some of the guys and a dig in the ribs from Cassius.
“If I have to come over there and separate you, you’re not going to like the consequences.”
My eyes widened. “Shit.” I so did not think this through. Coach was already testy due to Lintman having an injury.
“You’re going to be so dead,” Cassius whispered, shooting me a shit-eating grin.
I flipped him off, calling out, “Uhm, yeah, Coach. My bad… I totally meant the other kind of forking, but since Sutton and Jay-man left, I know you’re not actively looking for more on-team hookups.”
Cassius spluttered out a laugh. “You fucking wish. Your ass is too pasty for me.”
I gasped, acting affronted, and choosing to ignore Coach’s threat and plea to God for strength. “Pur-lease. There’s not a suntan mark in sight.”
“Uh-huh. That’s because the whole of you is milk-bottle white. Plus your ass needs more meat on it. Something to grip.”
My horror this time was only half feigned. “Take that back. My ass is perfection, just ask—” I slammed my mouth shut, cutting myself off from saying Eddie. We’d agreed to keep our official dating status on the down-low.
“Your hot DILF who you’re pining for?”
Of course, all of my keeping quiet was pointless. My friends knew me too well. It didn’t help that the last time Eddie had been able to attend a game, I’d played with blatant whisker rash. Yeah, as if any of my teammates didn’t call me out on that.
But I’d never confirmed anything. Though in truth, I hadn’t denied anything either.
I didn’t want to outright lie to them. I’d also been trying to figure out who was set to win the wagers on me too.
Was it mean of me that I didn’t want Cassius to pick up any of the cash?
Probably, but the guy threw enough shit my way as it was.
I didn’t want him drinking the top-shelf booze because he could read me so well.
“Shut up.” As far as comebacks went, mine was pitiful. “And you’d better not really think of him as a DILF.”
Cassius burst into laughter. “Holy shit.” He barely got the words out. “Did you just growl at me?”
“No.” My face was aflame, hot enough to toast marshmallows.
“You so did. You were all”—he beat a hand against his chest—“Eddie mine. Grrr.”
“Fuck off,” I said with a laugh, shoving at him.
“I did not sound like… well, whatever that was supposed to be.” I looked at him more fully.
“Please tell me that was your god of alligators growl.” Two could so play at this game.
Plus, it offered a fun distraction before we landed and I could finally get my hands on Eddie.
“Sticks, asshole. You know it’s all about the sticks.”
“Uh-huh. Says the man who has a shit phobia.”
He blanched, and for a second there I felt guilty—though to be fair, he talked about it and ass all the damn time, practically inviting us all to respond.
The guilt fizzled away when he settled back in his seat, face turned toward me.
“So this daddy kink you have going on, how’s that work when you hear Lottie calling him daddy?
” He arched a brow at me. “Not that I’d dare to kink shame, of course.
Just wondered if it gets kinda awkward when you’re there all…
Daddy, right there, and then, what, two minutes later, Lottie’s around—”
I slammed a hand over his mouth, turning a little green. “You hush your mouth.” I shuddered. “It is so not like that. He’s eleven years older than me, not fucking thirty.”
Cassius, being the asshole friend he was, licked my palm. It did the trick, and I tore my hand away. He laughed loudly, and despite him being a fucker, I laughed with him.
“You two children want to keep it down?” Ollie turned around and peered at us from the seat in front. “You know everyone can hear you, right?”
I winced. Even though this was my and Cassius’s usual back and forth ripping the shit out of each other and mercilessly teasing, not everyone in the team, and definitely not the cabin crew, needed to hear our business.
Clearing my throat, I bobbed my head at Ollie. He rolled his eyes and turned, but not before offering us a quick smirk. Our captain deserved hazard pay. He also had the patience of a kindergarten teacher.
“But seriously,” Cassius said, leaning in, his voice much quieter, “is Eddie meeting you at the airport?”
“Nope. When has he ever met me at the airport when I have a game?” Sure, during the off-season when we’d visited each other in the past, we’d always collected each other, but not when he was taking in a game.
Cassius bobbed his head. “You going official anytime soon?”
I twisted my mouth and studied him, looking to see if he was going to follow up with a joke. When all I read was genuine curiosity, I still hesitated.
Cassius sighed. “Nothing to do with the bet, and you know I can keep my mouth shut.” He shrugged, the move a little too casual that I frowned and studied him a little harder. “I just know keeping something completely to yourself can be a lot sometimes. It can also feel like shit and get to you.”
A level of seriousness that was as unusual as real downtime in the season passed between us. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
Our gazes connected briefly before he shrugged and glanced away.
“You know I can keep my mouth shut too, right?”
“Not if Eddie’s cock is near, I bet,” he fired back. And the moment was officially gone.
I snorted, not even bothering to argue with him. When his focus returned to me, he smiled, but his usual cockiness appeared dimmer. My amusement dropped. “I am serious, though.”
When he bobbed his head but didn’t answer, I felt right to give him something.
This trust thing went both ways. “After the playoffs and after we’ve discussed things with Lottie.
” Saying the plan aloud made it a little more real.
Hell, that could be in two days if we lost our final game.
If not, just under three more weeks to go and we could finally be open and move forward.
The knowledge shot a flood of warmth into my chest.
I liked the idea a helluva lot.
“Must feel good.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I’m happy for you, man. I know I give you hell, but Eddie’s a good guy.”
Happiness had me beaming. “Thanks, Cass. He really is.”
“And if you ever want a third—”
He burst into laughter when I shoved him hard, my own smile not disappearing. “Fuck off, asshole.”
Not long after Cassius returned to his usual self, we prepared for landing.
As always, we’d be piling onto a bus and transported to a hotel near the Jetts arena.
We wouldn’t have time to kick back, though, as Coach had organized us court time later this afternoon.
Knowing Eddie would be meeting me at the hotel meant I could deal with the hard practice in preparation of Thursday’s game with a smile on my face.
The sound of my room door opening brought a beaming smile to my face. Immediately I stood, eyes on the man I hadn’t seen for six days—not that long in the scale of things, but it was still six days too many for my liking.
“Hey.” He closed the hotel room door behind him and dropped the key card I’d left for him at reception on the small unit near the door.
With a handful of steps, I was in his space. “God, it’s good to see you,” I greeted before I pressed my mouth to his and held him tight. We both moaned on contact, my breath hitching at how amazing it felt being connected to Eddie like this again.
The five long years we’d known each other, many with me actively craving and pining for the man, made moments like these worth the wait.
“Your flight okay?” he asked when he eased away.
“Yeah, all good.” I reluctantly released him, and we headed further into the room. “Your day been okay? Get what you needed done?”
He dropped his overnight bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes. “Pretty productive. Got some tasks done. I managed to get Lottie to Sarah’s house without too much fuss.”
“She doesn’t know you’re seeing me tonight?”
Eddie shook his head. “Hell no. The fuss she’d make would give me a headache.” He picked up the room service menu and smiled. “She’s excited for Thursday’s game, though.”
“I’m glad. Even managed to get your courtside again.”