Page 60 of Unrivaled

That sucked. He felt like a jerk. This was the best actual date he’d gone on maybe ever, and… nothing.

To make matters worse, he had no idea how he was going to explain this to Max. Usually Grady texted to vent about everything that had gone wrong, and Max made fun of him and his date in turn and then sent him dick pics to take his mind off it.

Grady didn’t have anything to complain about tonight. David was great. He’d chosen an interesting activity. Grady enjoyed himself. What was he going to say to Max? “Everything went great, but I don’t want to fuck him”?

Then what? Would Max still sext him after?

When had going on these dates become more about Max than the people he was with? He had no intention of pursuing a relationship with Max. But apparently he didn’t want to have sex with anyone else.

Finally he put the car in Park in the driveway of David’s townhouse, took a deep breath, and turned to David.

Who was smiling at him, unperturbed. “No second date, huh?”

David was too good for Grady anyway. He could hardly believe he was having this conversation. It felt like his mouth was working on autopilot while his brain went around in circles with unproductive thoughts. “Believe me when I say it’s not you. I haven’t had this much fun doing something out of my comfort zone in a long time.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“If something like this ever crops up again and you want someone to explain art to, call me up.” Then Grady’s brain kicked in for a brief moment and he snorted. “Or if you’re ever trying to impress someone with really mediocre taste in hockey teams, let me know. I’ll get you the best seats in the house.”

“Well, I do like jocks.” He dimpled in the glow of the streetlight that filtered through the car window. He reached for the doorhandle. “I hope it works out for the two of you.”

Grady’s mouth dropped open. “For who?”

David lifted a shoulder, easy nonchalance. “You and whoever you were thinking of when you looked atStarry Night Over the Rhone.”

Then he opened the door and got out. “Drive safely, okay?”

Grady watched him until he made it into the house. Then he brought his right hand to his forehead and tried to rub away the tension starting there.

It was just that particular shade of red that caught him. That was all.

And if he told Max later that night that the date had been a bust, no one ever had to know.

AT THEbeginning of November, the Monsters had a road trip. Max didn’t go.

It didn’t make sense to travel with them—they’d only be gone a little over a week, and he probably wouldn’t get cleared to skate until they returned, even though all his issues were upper-body.

He could deal with the separation from his team, but the boredom ate at him. He was only supposed to work out his legs.

The lack of structure made him feel like time had no meaning. At least when he trained in the summers, he had a schedule—swimming this day, weights that day, resistance training another. Eat this many calories. Start at this time. Finish at that time. Check in with your trainer. This? Max ate, took his pills, worked out on the stationary bike or leg press for as long as he was allowed, and then… nothing. The whole day stretched in front of him with nothing to fill it. He didn’t even need to finally put in that research to find a replacement dishwasher, since Grady had taken care of that.

Max made it a total of thirty-seven hours. At that point his neck and shoulderhurt, but he could move them enough that he wouldn’t be a danger on the road. He would, however, be a danger to himself if he didn’t get something to do.

He could go to El and Hedgie’s. He knew he was always welcome there. But El had reached a fun new stage of pregnancy where she was either throwing up or sleeping. He’d already arranged for a dog-sitter for Gru because Max didn’t want to impose while she felt like crap. He could cancel that.

Or.

Or, he could take advantage of the fact that the Firebirds were in the middle of a home stand. He could drive to Philly and surprise Grady at home. If he couldn’t work out, he couldgetworked out. And maybe while he was getting fucked, he could figure outhowutterly fucked he was. If Grady sent him home, well, Max would know how he felt and he could get over it.

And if he didn’t, Max could fool himself a little longer.

“This is a terrible idea,” he said out loud to himself.

Then he went next door to ask if he could trade cars with El for a week. Maybe Grady’s neighbors were less nosy than Max’s, but he didn’t want to leave it to chance and end up not getting laid because he accidentally outed their arrangement and Grady was pissed about it.

He had Grady’s address from their failed attempt to meet up in the preseason, so all he had to do was slide behind the wheel of El’s car—“I’d say make good decisions, but too late for that,” she said as she handed him the keys—and follow the directions on his phone.

An hour and ten minutes later, he pulled into Grady’s driveway.

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