Page 77 of The Shots You Take

“You’ll be twenty-one in three weeks, though.”

Riley nudged him. “I don’t think that matters.”

“Yeah, but…” Adam glanced around the locker room, as if someone magically had three weeks of life experience they could give Riley. “There’s gotta be a way.”

“Sure,” Riley said. “Maybe we can convince everyone to get ice cream or something instead.” He went back to removing his gear, hoping he was doing a decent job hiding his jealousy.

About a minute later, Adam said, “I’ll bet New York has great ice cream.”

Riley huffed. “Yeah. It’s the first thing people think of.”

“They probably have flavors we’ve never even—”

“Shep. Stop. You don’t have to cheer me up like I’m a fucking five-year-old. I’m fine. I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as I’m back in the room anyway.”

Adam ducked his head, but Riley could see the flush on the back of his neck. “It just sucks. That’s all.”

Riley didn’t argue, because it did suck. It fucking sucked that he couldn’t celebrate this win with his teammates in the coolest city in the world. It sucked that he couldn’t celebrate withAdam. And it sucked that Adam looked so hot after games, all sweaty and vibrating with adrenaline.

An hour after they got back to their hotel room, Adam still hadn’t left to go out. He hadn’t even changed out of his postgame suit, or done anything except lie next to Riley and talk his ear off. Riley wasn’t complaining.

“How’s your leg?” Adam asked for the third time.

“Fine.”It still hurt, but whatever. It was just a bruise.

“You feel like taking a walk, maybe?”

Riley couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t you going out?”

Adam rolled to his side to face him. “Thought I might stay in.”

Riley held his gaze, fighting an eye roll and a grin at the same time. “Stay in and take a walk, you mean?”

Adam’s lips curved into a shy smile that made Riley want to do very stupid things. “Yeah. Maybe. You wanna?”

Riley would do anything Adam wanted to do. It was his embarrassing secret, and it wasn’t even a secret because he was so fucking obvious about it. Adam could suggest they swim to Staten Island and Riley would be putting on trunks. “Where are we walking?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere! It’s New York.”

Riley chewed the inside of his cheek. “You don’t have to do this. You should go out with the guys.”

“They won’t miss me.” Adam poked Riley’s bicep. “Let’s have an adventure together.”

“It’s eleven o’clock,” Riley argued, even as his blood fizzed with excitement.

Adam waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve heard this city never sleeps. Come on.”

Ten minutes later they’d both changed their clothes—Adam into the black jeans that Riley secretly loved, a Nike sweatshirt, and Adidas sneakers. Riley used the bathroom, and when he walked out, Adam was talking to someone on the phone that sat on the table between their beds.

“Just gonna hang with Riles,” Adam was saying. “You guys have fun.” He laughed at something, then said, “I don’t see that happening.”

Riley pretended to be ignoring the conversation by unnecessarily adjusting his pink-and-yellow-striped polo in the mirror. It didn’t matter how he looked, he told himself. It was just Adam, and Adam wasn’t looking at him like that. Not ever.

Adam hung up and then moved to stand behind Riley. He fussed with his own hair in the mirror a bit, then leaned into Riley’s neck and said, “You smell good. Is that new cologne?”

“Yeah. Lacoste.”

“I like it.”

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