Page 64 of Unrivaled

But right now Grady was too come-dumb to notice if Max waved a sign advertising his feelings in front of his face, so it was fine.

Grady collapsed on the bed next to him, breathing hard. “Not that I don’t appreciate the booty call,” he mumbled into the pillow, “but what are you doing here?”

Max could’ve taken offense, but Grady clearly didn’t mean anything by it. “Getting laid?” He patted Grady’s hip. “Good job, by the way.”

“You’re the worst.” Grady peered at him with his face half smashed into a pillow. “And that’s not what I meant.”

Max rolled onto his back so he could pretend Grady couldn’t see him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Sex is a pretty good motivator.”

Grady muffled a sigh.

Fuck it. He wouldn’t believe the truth anyway, if Max told it right. “Couldn’t stomach the idea of spending a whole week in my own company, so I figured I’d impose on you instead. Knew you were on a home stand. So here I am.”

Blessed silence for all of three seconds. Then, “Aweek?”

Max braced himself. “My bag’s still in the car.”

“The car?” Grady squawked. Max looked at him. His eyes were as big as pucks. “You parked that monstrosity in my driveway? The lime-green one with the vanity plates? Are you nuts?Do you know how nosy my neighbors are?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Relax. I took Hedgie’s wife’s car. You saw it when I came in, remember?”

“Fantastic,” he said wryly. “They can think I’m screwing her instead.”

Yeah, it was probably best if that rumor didn’t circulate. “What was I supposed to do,renta car?”

“Or park it in the garage like any normal person having a clandestine hookup.”

Max laughed. “That’s a bit rich coming from you, since Hedgie and El already sawyourcar inmydriveway overnight.”

That stopped Grady cold. “Oh shit, seriously?”

“I had to answer so many awkward questions, Mr. Pennsylvania Plates. But I’d be happy to park in your garage to save you from the same fate.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m sure your teammates will appreciate the good mood all the extra vitamin D will put you in.”

“Gosh. Awfully gracious of you.” Grady gave a theatrical sigh. “Fine, you can stay. But you’re not sleeping in my bed.”

From the way he said it—no trace of annoyance, an amused twist to his lips—it was clear he neither believed that nor was he particularly bothered. Max grinned sunnily. “That’s cool. Can I still fuck you in it?”

Grady hit him with the pillow.

Then he said, “I need lunch first. You want an omelet?”

GRADY WASa call-first kind of guy. When Max presented himself on his doorstep, it threw him.

But he was also having a tough week—news had broken that he’d requested a trade, so now he got to deal with fans dragging him for disloyalty on the internet and a combination of accusatory questions and sympathetic understanding from the Firebirds’ beleaguered beat reporters. Having Max around provided a distraction, not to mention an outlet for some of Grady’s pent-up energy. Feeding him seemed like the least Grady could do.

Grady made the omelets while Max watched from the breakfast bar, brow furrowed. “Why’re the yolks so orange?”

“Farm-fresh eggs are always richer in color.” And flavor. But he’d figure that out soon enough.

Grady plated up and Max dug in, then made an orgasmic, outraged sound through his closed mouth. Once he’d swallowed, he looked at his plate in disbelief. “Oh my God, this is amazing. How is it so mucheggierthan a regular egg?” He looked up at Grady and his expression became accusatory. “How am I supposed to go back to grocery store eggs after this?”

Grady finished his own lunch around a self-satisfied smirk. “That sounds like a you problem.”

Laughing, Max tossed his balled-up napkin at his head.

And then Grady made good on his promise and spread himself out on his bed with Max between his thighs.

Max hadn’t missed the mark when he accused Grady of being a control freak, but he didn’t miss it in bed either. He kept his thrusts slow and steady and perfectly aimed, which left Grady without anything to complain about.

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