Page 106 of Unrivaled

“I need to prepare for the worst.”

Max opened his mouth to snark—what happened to you that you’re always convinced things will go wrong?—but he bit his tongue. He knew what happened. If Max’s parents had died young in a horrifying accident and his grieving siblings had put their own dreams on hold to raise him, he’d be a little different about it too. “Tell you what,” he said instead as he slid his leg between Grady’s. “You prepare for the worst. I’ll plan for the best.”

“Deal.” Grady craned his neck and glanced at the clock he had on the bedside table like an eighty-year-old who didn’t have a cell phone. “And now I have to prepare with a pregame nap. You’re welcome to stick around, but I need to sleep.”

“Maybe I’ll go skinny-dipping in your pool.” But he made no move to get up. A few minutes later Grady’s breathing evened out into sleep.

Max followed.

THE NEXTday Max was on a plane to Vancouver for the start of a four-game Western Canada road trip.

It would’ve been stupid to miss him. They’d spent more of their relationship—however loosely you defined it—apart than together. Besides, he was too busy to think about Max. He had his own games to focus on. They beat San Jose, and then he had to pack.

He did it with the game on in the background, which turned out not to be very efficient because he kept stopping to watch.

Max wasn’t having a great game. He made three bad zone entries, and Grady was pretty sure the last one was going to cost the Piranhas a goal for being offsides.

He double-checked his toiletries as the officials reviewed the goal. Max looked frustrated, and Grady didn’t blame him. The Orcas were a tough team. Max specialized in finding room where other players couldn’t, working in close quarters to score dirty goals. The Orcas’ defense excelled at keeping opponents out of those areas.

On top of that, he was playing on the Piranhas’ shutdown line, which meant he was playingagainstthe Orcas’ top line, centered by Nico Kirschbaum, who was on a nine-game scoring streak. But the Piranhas’ shutdown line didn’t work anything like the Monsters’, and Max kept falling out of position. Grady found it painful to watch, so he couldn’t imagine Max was enjoying it.

In the third he got so frustrated he broke the Piranhas’ strategy entirely and started looking for someone to take a swing at him or trip him or grab his stick because he was an annoying little shithead.

Grady winced and turned the game off, but he set a reminder to text when it had ended.

He’d finished packing and was watering his houseplants when his phone buzzed to signal the end of the game. The Orcas had won 5–2.

That would be a tough loss for Max to swallow, held to no points and at a minus two for the night. For his first game with a new team too.

Would he want to talk? Grady didn’t know for sure. But he texted in case.I’m still up if you want to call when you get back to the hotel.

Twenty minutes later he got a text notification.Plz tell me u didn’t watch that shitshow.

I mean… I was mostly packing, Grady sent back.But I can lie if it’ll make you feel better.

Fifteen minutes after that, his phone rang.

“I haven’t played a game that bad since my rookie year,” Max moaned.

Sugarcoating wasn’t in Grady’s nature. “I’ve seen you play better.”

“I’ve played better games hungover.” Max sighed. “They’re probably regretting that trade right about now.”

Defeat sounded wrong on him. Maxnevertook games personally—it was his superpower.

His other superpower was knowing what to say or do to snap Grady out of a funk. He’d been doing it, Grady realized now, ever since they started sleeping together. And Grady had no idea how to return the favor. That bothered him. He couldn’t justsuckat… boyfriend things. He couldn’t be aworse boyfriendthan Max.

So making Max feel better was something he’d have to practice, like any other skill.

It would’ve been easier if Grady could’ve given him a blow job. But he couldn’t, and he also sucked at phone sex, so he’d have to make do with regular words. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who expects you to master a whole new hockey system in one game.”

“Ugh,” Max said. “You sound so reasonable. It’s disgusting.”

Grady smiled. There. Maybe Max didn’t feelbetter, but at least Grady had distracted him. “You’re welcome.”

His next game was better. Grady only caught the tail end of it, from a bar in Raleigh. He couldn’t watch as closely as he wanted because Farouk kept chirping him, but he caught Max’s assist on a goal to seal the Piranhas’ win against Calgary, so hopefully that would cheer him up.

Nice apple, Grady texted.

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