Page 119 of The Home Game

He met Matty in the hallway who was carrying a tray loaded with food.

“Oh my God, Matty. We can’t eat all that!” Antoni protested with a laugh and shake of his head.

“Speak for yourself,” Matty said, grinning, but the smile fell as he looked Antoni up and down. “Hey! Why’d you get dressed?”

“Figured we’d relocate,” Antoni said. “Bed seems more comfortable.”

“Okay. But you better get naked again.”

Grinning at Matty’s back as Antoni followed him down the hall, he said, “Well, if you insist.”

After setting everything out for a picnic in bed, they both stripped and settled on the bed.

Still smiling—because he couldn’t seem to stop—Antoni reached for a mini pepper stuffed with herbed cream cheese, trying not to let his gaze wander to Matty’s soft but still substantial dick.

God, he hoped Matty wanted to fuck him.

It was fine if he didn’t but, oh, he could imagine how good it would be if he did.

“You teased me about all of this food,” Matty said as he crunched into a peapod. “But maybe some of this is for after round two.”

“Round two?” Antoni asked, pleased by the idea. Apparently Matty wasn’t a one-and-done kinda guy, which suited Antoni fine.

“Sure, everyone knows the best hockey players can go four rounds.” Matty grinned.

Antoni stared blankly. “Uhh. Is this … some sort of hockey thing I don’t get the reference to?”

Matty made a face and reached for some cheese and ham, wrapping it together. “Yeah, I was trying to make a playoff joke but it went right over your head.”

“Sorry,” Antoni said, feeling sheepish. “I really should brush up. Now that we’re … married.”

They both froze, staring at each other for a few heartbeats before they looked away. Okay yeah, that was still weird. Not bad weird, exactly. But weird.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Matty said with a shrug. “Honestly, you don’t ever have to be into the game if you don’t want.”

“Sure, but I want to be supportive,” Antoni said earnestly. “And it’ll look better to the public if I’m involved and know what the fuck I’m talking about, right?”

“Uh, yeah, probably.”

“So, explain the joke,” Antoni urged as he scanned the tray for what he wanted to eat next.

Ooh, dill pickle hummus. Matty had started buying that for Antoni all the time because he’d kind of been obsessed with it since Matty brought some home from the store a few weeks ago. Antoni tore off a piece of whole wheat pita and dipped it in.

Matty shifted onto his side. “Okay. So, in the playoffs, the top sixteen teams from the regular season compete. The top three teams from each division and four wild card teams.”

Antoni frowned. “Okay, what’s a wild card?”

“They’re the next two best teams in each conference.”

“How do they decide what’s best?”

“Whoever has the most points from the regular season. You get two points if you win the game in regulation time. If it goes to overtime, the winner gets two, the loser gets one.”

“Hmm.”

“Some people argue that it would make more sense if regulation wins were three points, but we won’t get into all that now.”

“Okay.” Antoni reached for a grape, popping it in his mouth and enjoying the juicy crunch.

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