Chapter 4
Grady
“Sorry. I swear she’s not usually this… forward,” Landon says and gives Angela a pleading look, begging her to be quiet.
“I don’t mind, Landon,” I tell him, my eyes locked on Angie, who has decided to drop down into the seat across from me instead of across from her boyfriend. “You’re guessing about how much satisfaction a person can… provide for themselves?”
“Oh my God, can we change the subject?” Landon sounds almost distraught—and muffled. I glance over at him, and he’s got his face covered by his hands. “I’m begging you, Angela.”
“I’ve only been with Landon,” she explains to me, ignoring his request. “We got together when I was sixteen, and I moved in with him at nineteen. Landy’s always kind of been around and is excellent at satisfying me.”
“Why is she still talking?” Landon mutters, and I bite back a smile.
“I’ve had to… satisfy myself.” She shrugs and averts her eyes, her cheeks blooming with color. “I even abstained when he was sick. I was hoping our spark would come back full force once he was cured.”
Oh wow. Yeah, this is definitely in the Too Much Information category, but yet… I love it. I love talking about sex with anyone. I find it so fascinating and erotic… Men, women, don’t care. Tell me your secrets.
She gets up, and her fingertips graze the tops of both my knees as she passes.
I blame the fact that I’m so tall and my legs are in her way.
But… it feels intentional. She drops down on Landon’s lap, and I realize he’s got color in his cheeks, too.
He’s embarrassed. “Maybe I’ll have to resort to masturbating now, though. Hopefully not, but…”
Landon turns his head to rest his forehead against the window, closing his eyes. “Angie, please stop.”
She laughs and kisses his cheek. “He’s shy. I don’t mean to be inappropriate. I’m sorry. I just… I get open when I drink, and I’m feeling weird since I found out about the transfer.”
“Trade,” Landon corrects softly.
“It’s a lot to handle as the partner,” I say and shoot her a sympathetic look. “I’m grateful I don’t have someone at times like this.”
“But you will settle down one day, right?” Angie asks, and there’s hope in her voice. “You’re a good guy, Grady. Handsome too. I’d hate to see that go to waste.”
I smile. “Eventually, maybe.”
“My sister is single and she’s coming to visit in a couple weeks.” That explains the hope. Shit. “She’s blonde, like me, but she’s taller. You said you like tall.”
Landon brushes Angie’s hair back from her shoulder and kisses the smooth skin near her collarbone. “Ang, don’t set him up. That’s a lot of pressure.”
“It is. I mean, sure, I’ll meet her at a game or whatever, but… I’m not looking for anything, Angie. Sorry.” I try to sound firm but not pissed off.
She finishes her glass of champagne and sways as she pulls herself up and off of her boyfriend. “Champagne makes you pee.”
She trots off to the bathroom, and once she’s shut the small door, I hear Landon exhale.
I turn my head, resting my temple against the supple leather of the plush headrest built into the seat.
He looks mortified. There’s no other way to say it.
“Relax. I’m not offended or embarrassed for her or myself.
I’m actually kind of amused and intrigued,” I tell him, and he lifts one of his eyebrows, pointedly, as if to say what the fuck?
“I’ve never known any couple that’s been together for as long as you two.
I definitely don’t know anyone who has only been with each other. It’s interesting.”
“She’s never been with anyone else. I have. Kind of,” Landon says, and now it’s my eyebrows that lift. He immediately shakes his head when he sees it. “No. I never cheated. Not once. I meant before we got together.”
I nod slowly and try not to linger on his face.
He’s caught me staring at him on the ice, in practice, and once at a bar after a road game.
I told him I zone out and not to take it personally, but the truth is, I like staring at him.
A lot. He’s got such contradicting features.
Light eyes and hair, but a tawny complexion.
A fuller bottom lip than top. A straight nose, but it’s softer around the edges, not pointy, and high cheekbones, but a rounder chin.
When he first came back from cancer treatment, he was wiry as fuck.
Now he’s tripled in size and it’s all muscle.
He hits the gym way more than the rest of us, like he’s overcompensating for being sick.
“I don’t regret being with her for the last ten years. Not one bit,” Landon tells me. “We’re the best of friends, and I don’t wander. But we were in a rough patch before the cancer… and sometimes, I feel like she might have regrets. And this trade is really pulling that to the forefront.”
He looks distraught, like when he came out of the bathroom at the airport and found her gone.
My fingers tingle with the urge to reach out and touch him.
Squeeze his shoulder or arm in reassurance.
I’m a touchy-feely guy. With everyone. It’s my love language or whatever the fuck it is my cousin Harlow goes on about.
How I express my feelings. But it’s probably not a great idea where Landon is concerned, so I grip the arm of my seat instead and blurt out the first thing in my head. “You should buy her a vibrator.”
His eyes widen comically, and his mouth drops open. He stares at me like I’ve gone mad. I shrug. “Sorry. Now I’m being invasive. The thing is, a little sexual experimentation is healthy, especially in a long-term relationship. And she’s clearly curious.”
Landon glances at the bathroom door and back at me, and he appears less shocked.
Almost like he might smile. “Clearly,” he repeats and flashes me a smirk.
His face drops into a serious expression quickly, though.
He rubs a thumb over his chin like he always does when he’s conflicted about something.
I noticed the habit between periods or during video analysis sessions after we’d lose a game.
“A vibrator would be cheaper than what I was thinking about buying her.”
“Which is?”
“A ring.”
Fuck, is my very first thought, and I hate myself for it.
Angela is great. Landon likes her. He should be happy, and if giving her a ring makes him happy, then I’m an asshole for not being excited.
Dude isn’t gay or even bi. I’ve lost nothing by hearing this news…
so why does it feel like I have? And why doesn’t he look excited or even remotely happy?
Hell, he doesn’t even look nervous. He looks…
he looks like someone just told him he’s being audited by the IRS.
“We’ve been together ten years. Well, it’ll be ten years in a couple of weeks,” Landon tells me as his eyes slide to the window. “And she’s been a rock through my illness. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she left. I was… a nightmare.”
“You were battling a life-threatening illness.”
“My Aunt Tessa, who is married to my Uncle Levi, says that in times like this, when our jobs drag them all over the country, giving your partner something solid to hold onto is a good idea,” Landon explains.
The door opens, and Angela walks out of the bathroom. As the door closes, she glances at the bed in the area just past the bathroom. She grins wickedly. “Anyone here a member of the Mile High Club?”
“That’s it, no more champagne for you,” Landon laughs. “And no. I’m not, which you know.”
Her eyes move to me. “Maybe…” I confess.
She squeals and claps. “Oh my God, Grady! I knew you were a wild child.”
“I didn’t,” Landon balks, and I grin as Angela plops into the seat across from him. He looks more impressed than shocked. “How? Those rooms are way tiny.”
“Creatively,” I reply casually and lean closer in case the flight attendant is eavesdropping. “And from behind.”
“Your favorite position,” Angela gives Landon a gentle tap on the shin with the toe of her high heel.
So now I know Landon’s favorite position. I file that away in the part of my brain where I keep fantasies. The flight attendant appears with some appetizers and small, personalized charcuterie boards with cheese in the shape of the Riptide logo. Impressive.
“Thank you,” Angela says to the flight attendant as he places a board in front of her. Then she looks over at me and then Landon. “I may learn to like this place after all.”
Landon’s shoulders sag in relief.