Page 51 of Unrivaled

Good Christ. “It sounds like that and it doesn’t evenwork?”

Max shrugged sheepishly. “I mostly set it to run and then leave for practice.”

Grady looked at the dog. “Your dad’s been tormenting you.”

“Hey!”

But Grady ignored him and took out his cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

Grady looked up from the screen. “Your dishwasher sounds like a dying vibrator, Max. It’s sad. And it doesn’t even work. Where’s your wallet?”

Max pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.

Grady took out his credit card and put it on the table.

“First of all, I have no idea what a dying vibrator sounds like. I’m a responsible adult and my toys are always charged—”

“It sounds like your dishwasher,” Grady interrupted. He navigated to the dishwasher reviews section of the Consumer Reports website. “Which doesn’t work and also might explode at any moment, Mr. Responsible Adult.” He screenshotted the three top-rated models and opened a browser window to find the nearest appliance store that did installation.

“Second of all….” Max sat down at the table again. “Are you researching dishwashers for me?”

“No.” Grady scrolled down the site and started entering Max’s credit card information.

“No?”

“I am researching dishwashers for me, because if I ever have to hear this noise again, I’m going to kill someone, and they don’t have hockey in jail.” He looked up from his phone. “What’s your game schedule? I need to give them a delivery window.”

Max got up again and pulled a schedule off the fridge. Grady glanced at it and then finished the transaction and handed Max his credit card back. “Congratulations. Your new appliance will arrive next Tuesday.”

“I’ll make sure to send out an announcement,” Max said faintly. He was looking at his wallet like it might bite him.

“I expect to be named godparent.” Grady glanced at the time and grimaced. He still had to pack for the trip. “I gotta get going. Thanks for breakfast.”

Max waved it off without looking at him. “Thanks for the ride.”

Right. Grady cleared his throat. “Well… see you later.”

Second Period

SOMEHOW MAXgot through practice without skating into the boards, missing too many passes, or maiming anyone with a high stick.

He got home without incident too, which was great because El would kill him if he caused any injury to the daddy of her unborn child.

But Max’s good fortune ended there.

How had he let this happen? This thing with Grady had gotten out of hand. Max had signed up for hot mutual orgasms as a much-needed pressure release valve on the stress of a hockey season. He wasn’t prepared for Grady Armstrong sitting at his kitchen table, researching which dishwasher to get and then taking care of the chore in minutes, like Max hadn’t been putting it off for months. Like it was nothing.

Like Max hadn’t gone and fallen completely in love with him, after sliding into it by reluctant degrees over the past month and a half.

“Hello? Max?” Hedgie poked his shoulder, and Max jolted back to the present—his car, in his driveway, with his best friend. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

Hedgie turned to face him. “You didn’t take the bus home last night, which means you hooked up in Philly. There was a car in your driveway this morning with Pennsylvania plates. Oh, and there’s a handprint-shaped bruise on your ass. Or did you miss all the chirping in the locker room earlier?”

Fuuuuuuck.Max slumped in the driver’s seat and put a hand over his face. The panic he’d sublimated all morning surfaced with a vengeance. “I did something really dumb.”

---