Page 29 of Against the Odds
“Jesus!” Callum pulled free, then bent, grabbed my elbows, and hauled me up into a sticky, spunky kiss. “You’re good at that.”
“Thank you.” I pushed past him to fill a tumbler with water and rinse my mouth. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”
He took the glass from my hand, drank a sip, and passed it back. “I hope I didn’t wake the kid. I forgot we were supposed to be quiet.”
“You weren’t that loud, the fan’s running, and his bedroom is on the other side of the house. I think we’re fine. Not to mention he’s twelve, so odds are he wouldn’t know what he was hearing.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that, but maybe.” Callum ran the water in the sink and washed his hands, then dampened the corner of the towel and mopped at his jeans, pulling them up around his hips. “Speaking of people not knowing…” He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Hey, I promised I wouldn’t out you. That’s still true.”
“I’m not ashamed or anything. But two years back, the Dragons found out Rhys Farrell’s boyfriend was cheating on him with another player. They traded Farrell away, despite all his skills, and then at the end of the season, they dumped the other guy too.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means gay-player drama damaged their lineup.”
“Couldn’t the same thing have happened with a girlfriend?”
“Sure. But that’s ‘normal.’” He put the word in air quotes. “This is new since the league went woke, according to the bottom-feeder fans. I’d bet it’s made the team management allergic to gay drama. I want to play for the Dragons in the NAPH, if I can, with Grandpa living here. I can’t afford to do anything to make me a less attractive prospect.”
“Like getting penalties?” I teased, to cover how surprisingly disappointed I was to hear Callum in full retreat.
He rubbed his hair into a mess, then glanced in the mirror and tried to smooth it down. “Yeah, those too. I know I need to do better. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes.” He dropped his gaze.
“Don’t we all?” I didn’t like how he’d gone from wonderfully smug and satisfied to uncertain. He’d joked about his penalty minutes, so I hadn’t realized they were actually a sore spot. I kissed his cheek, feeling a tiny prickle of nearly invisible stubble under my lips. Very different from my own thick five-o’clock shadow. I liked seeing the clean line of his cheekbones and the faint cleft in his chin.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I reassured him. “But I wouldn’t mind doing this again, if we can be safe about it. You are so fucking hot, and I haven’t even seen you naked yet.”
He eyed me while zipping up, then smiled, although it was half the wattage of his full-on grin. “I’d like that. Yeah. Mynext two evenings, I have home games against Bakersfield. But Thursday I’m off.”
“I work this shift through Thursday. I have Friday through Monday off.”
“Edmonton Friday and Saturday. But they’re home games, no travel. So I’ll be around Sunday.”
I slid my hand up behind his head, moving slowly in case he wanted to dodge, but he leaned into my touch. Fisting his silky hair, I pulled him into one more kiss. “Sunday. We’ll figure something out.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He reached for the lock on the door, then paused. “You might want to put your clothes back on.”
“Yeah, right.” I tugged my jeans straight and zipped them.
“If Jos wants to, tomorrow, he can come over to our place once Grandpa’s home. Watch a movie with him, maybe. Grandpa never minds having company. You can tell him I think it’d be good for the old man.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“I’ll go out first. Maybe wait a minute, in case. I’ll see you around.” Callum edged out of the door, closing it behind him.
I doubted Jos was waiting on the stairs spying, but Callum hadn’t been quiet, and you never knew. So I counted to sixty, washing my chin and eyeing my reddened mouth in the mirror. Nothing a twelve-year-old should pick up on. I drank a bit more water, then stepped out into the hall.
Callum called softly to me from the front door, “Heading out. Thanks for the use of the big screen.”
“Anytime.” I headed his way, but he was gone with the door closed before I reached the foyer. After setting the alarm, I peered out the front window, watching him cross the grass between our houses, vault up to his porch, and vanish safely inside.
I needed to be up again in less than seven hours, ready to talk to my kid brother, so I should’ve headed to bed. Instead, I putzed around the living room, straightening cushions, clearing a couple of bowls and glasses, wiping the coffee table of crumbs and damp rings. For the first time in a long time, I felt good, at home in my skin and relaxed. The sight of that tree tattoo on my arm where the badge of shame had been pleased me, even in its scabby and healing state.
The faint lingering taste of Callum in my mouth and the echo of his voice reminded me I wasn’t just a cop or a big brother or an executor trying to puzzle out an estate. I was a gay man who’d met another awesome gay man, and even though all we were doing was convenient sex, it’d included the best kisses I’d had in years. I couldn’t wait to see where we went from here.
CHAPTER 9
