Page 24 of Unrivaled

He let the thought fade. He’d still be Hedgie’s best friend and El’s partner in crime, and now he’d get to be their kid’s Uncle Max too. They’d still have plenty of shared meals together, between Hedgie’s grilling, Max’s cooking, and El’s baking.

Heh. Usually it was cookies and brownies and pie, but now she had a bun in the oven.

Upstairs, the bathroom door closed, and El cleared her throat. “So. No hints about tonight’s plans? Really?”

If Max gave her anything, she’d figure out who he was planning to see. “No! Stop fishing or I won’t give you all the dirty details.”

“Ugh, fine.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to let me know how it stacks up to Mr. Toronto.”

“Deal.” Fuck, Max was probably going to slip up somehow and let on that they were the same person, and then El would figure the whole thing out.

The alarm on Max’s phone went off then, prompting him into motion. He got off the floor and shouted up the stairs, “Ten-minute warning, Hedgie!”

“Fuck! Okay!”

“Dry-cleaning’s in the guest bedroom closet,” El said wryly.

Max smacked a kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best.”

He put on his suit, made sure his lucky cuff links were securely fastened, and tucked his yoga gear into the bag he kept in the back seat of his car. He was just zipping it up when his phone buzzed.

Finally.Part of him had expected Grady to leave him hanging indefinitely.

He opened the message.

Can’t tonight.

That was it. No apology, no explanation.

Not that Max expected one, but he shoved down his disappointment. It didn’t matter. He could find someone else to fuck. Or he could go home alone and jerk off to the memory of Grady sinking his teeth into the inside of his thigh.

He shoved the phone into his pocket without replying, but when he turned to leave the room, El was leaning on the doorframe. She had her arms crossed—the pose did even more for her boobs; Hedgie was a lucky guy—and tilted her head.

Max should probably start closing doors when he got changed in their house, but he’d been a hockey player for too long. Body shyness was a thing that happened to other people.

“You’re making a face,” she accused. “And you’re giving off, like, weird vibes. What’s up?”

“Weird vibes?” Max said incredulously. He had no defense for his face; it only did what he told it when he was smirking.

“If you can make deductions based on my boobs, I can do it with your vibes.”

It would’ve been easier if he could tell her. El was a good friend and Max couldn’t trust his own head, because his dick was involved and it wasn’t exactly impartial. But he couldn’t ask her opinion without revealing who he was conflicted about, and worst of all he’d have to admit, out loud, that he was upset Grady Armstrong didn’t want to sleep with him.

Max hadn’t had a complete personality transplant in the last week, so that wasn’t happening. In another few days, maybe he could admit it to himself without wanting to take a header into the boards.

“Sorry,” he said, off her raised eyebrow. “I think you’re going to have to remain in suspense.”

He really was sorry, was the worst part.

El’s eyes went wide and round, and he knew she was about to question him further, but for once in his life, Hedgie appeared at exactly the right moment, bounding to the bottom of the stairs and sweeping her into a kiss.

“Sorry, sorry, I swear I’m ready now,” he said when he pulled away.

El met Max’s eyes. He shook his head. “Wish us luck.”

CONSIDERING THElong history of bad blood between their two teams, Grady went into the match expecting a shitshow.

The match delivered in the best worst way possible. Neither team had iced their first-string goaltender—the Firebirds were trying out their college boy, and the Monsters put in their minor-league guy—and by the end of the second, the score was 5–5. Miraculously, the refs hadn’t called any penalties, mostly because even a rivalry this deep didn’t warrant bloody sacrifice in the preseason.

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