The driver laughed and fell silent for a moment.
“Who did you make a bet with?” Graham asked quietly.
Thad grinned. “Crawford.”
“Well, that was your first mistake,” he joked.
The driver asked, “So, what do you think this season’s gonna be like, Graham?”
“Uhh, I’m feeling pretty optimistic, to be honest. Gavin’s acquired some really good pieces.”
“Yeah, I was impressed by the Bass trade.”
“Tom is great,” Graham agreed. “He’s really helped bolster our second line.”
“The depth is nice.”
The slow drag of Thad’s thumb against the sensitive spot along the side of Graham’s palm made his mouth go dry and he had to clear his throat as he continued. “With Webby in net and two really solid D-pairs, it’s finally feeling like things are coming together for us.”
“Do you think Racine will make any more trades?”
Graham had plenty of calluses from the repetitive wear of stickhandling and shooting but everywhere that hadn’t hardened felt sosoft. So vulnerable.
Was that what made the feel of Thad’s short, blunt thumbnail tracing along the lines and grooves of his fingers and palms so erotic?
And what had the guy asked again? Oh right, more trades.
“Uhh, maybe.” Graham shifted in his seat. “I think it’ll depend on what’s available and what other teams are asking for.”
“I was surprised he didn’t do much this summer.”
“It was a pretty thin UFA market this year,” Graham countered, suddenly aware of the low pulse of heat in his groin.
He snuck a glance at Thad who lounged against the window opposite him with a smirk. Jesus fuck, he needed that mannow.
The rest of the ride to Graham’s condo was a blur.
Graham made small talk about the team and thanked the driver all while resisting every impulse he had to tell the guy to shut the fuck up so he could climb into Thad’s lap and get his tongue in Thad’s mouth.
When they were finally alone in the elevator and on the way up to Graham’s floor, he nearly lunged for Thad.
“Wait,” Thad said through gritted teeth. “Cameras.”
Graham cursed and held on to the railing behind him, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.
If he didn’t touch Thad soon, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They stumbled into the condo a few minutes later, and the moment the door was shut, Graham threw himself at Thad. He cupped his face and leaned in, the bill of Thad’s hat bumping against Graham’s forehead.
Thad laughed against his mouth and spun the hat around, so the bill faced backwards. Something about that look really did it for Graham, so with a soft laugh at how ridiculous he was, he pressed closer, kissing him deeply.
Thad’s mouth tasted faintly of beer and combined with the heat of his hands as he slid them up under Graham’s suit jacket made Graham moan. Graham reached back, shrugging off his suit coat and tossing it on the counter nearby.
He did the same with Thad’s leather jacket, but it slithered to the floor to land in a heap.
Whatever. They’d worry about that later.
