I stopped at a small bakery on the way to Peyton’s and picked up a fruit tart. Then I continued to his apartment in Cranberry.
I was a little surprised when I pulled into the complex, because this was where the team set up newly acquired players. I’d lived here myself for a season before I bought the place I lived in now.
It made perfect sense that Peyton was here, of course. Somehow, I’d just forgotten that he was a new arrival. He’d only been with the Whiskey Rebels since the start of this season, but it felt like he’d been here all along. Like he’d become as much a fixture as Coach or Ziggy.
I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but whatever. I pulled into a parking space, grabbed my phone and the dessert, and headed upstairs.
When he opened his door, my heart did a little flutter. Ididknow whatthatwas all about. And now I was going into his place? Just the two of us?
Not something I needed to think about right now. Not at all.
“I picked up a tart,” I told him after I’d taken off my shoes. “It has fruit on it, so we can gaslight ourselves into thinking we’re eating healthy.”
“Gaslight, hell.” Peyton waved that away. He took the tart and led me into the kitchen. “I practiced twice today. I would video myself eating an entire half gallon of ice cream, send it to Coach, and dare him to bitch about it.”
I laughed. “I mean, I can video that if you want.” I held up my phone. “If you really think?—”
“Yeah, no. I don’t need his disappointed dad look at practice.” Peyton rolled his eyes. “He’s weaponized that look, I swear.”
“Don’t most head coaches?”
“Yeah, but Tabakov is just…” He whistled, shaking his head.
I chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. At his invitation, I took a seat in one of the barstools at his kitchen island while he went around the other side, presumably to continue cooking.
“If you think that dad look is brutal,” I said, “wait until we get blown out. One of those really bad losses where we’reallfucking up and the internet goes nuts that we’re a disaster?” I grimaced. “Every team has at least one a season, and Coach’s ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed’ face islegendaryafter those.”
“Oh God.” He opened the fridge and slid the tart box onto a shelf. “I’m not looking forward to seeing that.”
“Neither am I. Mostly because it means we had a blowout loss. Those are theworst.”
“Aren’t they?” He started to shut the fridge. “Do you want a beer or some—” He stiffened. “Shit. Sorry. Habit. Do you, uh… I have coffee, soda, water…”
“I’m good, thanks. And, um… don’t worry about it.” I absently turned my phone between my fingers just to give my hands something to do. “I really don’t want people acting different around me.”
“No, I get that.” Peyton rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… I know you’re trying to…”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I gestured around us. “So they’re still putting new players up here, eh? I used to live two units over, one floor down.”
“Apparently, yeah.” He rolled his shoulders, seeming relieved by the subject change. “I can see why they use it. It’s not bad. Quiet. Nice units.”
“You thinking of getting another place? Or staying here?”
“Don’t know yet.” Peyton looked around, then shrugged. “It’s small, but I like it. And I mean, it’s just me. I would kind of like to get a dog at some point, but only when I have a yard.”
“Oh man, me too. I have the yard, but I’m gone too much, so it doesn’t really seem fair, you know?”
“Exactly. That’s why I didn’t get one in Detroit. I had a housemate for a while, and I thought about it, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“A housemate?” I asked. “Or…?”
Peyton was entirely too cute when he blushed. Shaking his head, he laughed. “Just a housemate. I know, I know, I heard all the rumors too, but it wasn’t anything like that.”
“So everyone was convinced it was because the only reason a gay man would live with another man is if they’re banging.”
“Exactly.” Then he flashed me a wicked grin. “You want to hear something the press never figured out?”
I sat up a little. “Do tell.”
