Chapter 5 #4
He almost managed to make it seem like he wasn’t happy about Mo’s interruption to the impertinent question.
Mo, however, had no compunctions about letting everyone know exactly how he felt.
Every time one of the reporters so much as glanced his way, he gave them a shark’s grin.
Let them fucking try to ask Adam personal questions with Mo standing behind him looking like that, with the full power of the Du Pont name and the presumed authority to have them banned from future interviews.
He was almost sad when the questions stayed more or less on topic.
Before Mo knew it, Elsie popped her head back into the room. “Last question, everybody. We’ve gotta get Murph out of here before he turns into a pumpkin.”
Mo’s try me mask must’ve slipped in the interim, because the final reporter asked, “Murph, what do you say to the criticism that athletes should keep their personal lives private rather than flaunt their relationships in public?”
Jesus Christ. Mo could feel every muscle in Adam’s body tensing and they weren’t even touching. He put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and squeezed briefly before facing the reporter. Adam couldn’t answer a question like that the way it deserved without being lambasted for being impolite.
Mo let that shark’s smile creep back onto his face.
“Unless I missed something, Adam’s not the one who posted that first picture of us online.
He definitely didn’t ask the broadcaster to put my face on the Jumbotron.
I mean, this man? He’s way too humble to brag about his bae like that.
And I’m pretty sure I remember your colleague being the first one to ask about me in this interview.
So it sounds like what you actually have a problem with is Adam not being in the closet, where narrow-minded fools won’t be confronted with the reality that not everyone on the planet shares their views on what constitutes living a good life.
Even if they’re rich white athletes.” He paused to let that sink in.
“And if that’s the case, then I’m not sure you’re cut out for this whole journalism thing. ”
Beneath his palm, Adam’s shoulder twitched.
At the door, Elsie cleared her throat again. “Well, that’s it for today. Adam, Mo, let’s go.”
Adam stood up. Mo was still behind him, so he couldn’t really see his face, but he seemed to be totally relaxed. “Thanks, folks,” he said—somehow sounding fucking sincere; maybe Sage should study him—and followed Mo and Elsie out of the room.
Elsie led them back the way Mo had come, so they were the only three in the room when the door shut behind them, and Adam lost the battle to maintain his composure and broke into a grin.
Shit. Mo had always thought he was good-looking, but he was on another level with a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes. “Fuck. Can I bring you to all press scrums?”
Helplessly grinning back, Mo shrugged. “Well, I’ll have to check my calendar.”
Elsie rolled her eyes. “I don’t think the NHLPA agreement has a clause for emotional-support boyfriends, so you’ll have to go back to doing it alone, Murphy. Mo, it was a pleasure.” She nodded to him and hustled off.
“Am I impressed, terrified, or in love?” Mo asked, his gaze lingering on the door where Elsie had disappeared.
Adam snorted. “The question every new player asks themselves. You should see the rookies after their first encounter.”
“I bet she eviscerates them with a smile that leaves them more besotted,” Mo said, then realized a more pressing fact—Adam was still covered in sweat, his hair slick and glistening under the lights, and Mo could smell the lingering essence of his less washable gear on the Under Armour he still wore.
“So what’s the plan? Am I leaving now or are we leaving together? ”
“Well, after that display, probably a good idea to head out together. If you don’t mind waiting while I shower?”
“I think I can manage that. Unless this cleanup routine is so elaborate that you keep me twiddling my thumbs for an hour.”
Adam snorted. “As if I’d be stupid enough to leave you unsupervised for that long in my place of work. I don’t want to know what kind of trouble you’d get up to if you got bored.”
“Well that’s just rude. I can behave myself.”
“Oh? So what you’re saying is that all those times you’ve misbehaved, it was on purpose? Looking for punishments?” He lifted one sardonic eyebrow, and Mo bit back the urge to goggle. Did Captain Cardboard himself just ask Mo if he was a brat looking for a spanking?
“Why, Mr. Murphy, have you been fantasizing about doling them out?” Mo fluttered his lashes.
He expected Adam to back off. Adam always backed off.
Adam took a step forward—fuck, he was still wearing his skates, he had like a foot on Mo right now and Mo was apparently into it—until Mo backed into the wall. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”
Then, before Mo could react, he reached past him for the door. “Meet you back here in twenty.”
Mo watched the door swing shut behind him, half-hard in his pants and wondering what the hell just happened.