“Yeah.”
I try not to panic, but that doesn’t sound good. When I get to the lobby, Coach is standing there with Grady and Tyson. They all still have their bags with them. Tyson has his arms folded tightly across his chest and a scowl on his face. Grady looks annoyed, which is unlike him. Beside the Coach are two hotel employees. One looks frazzled, and the other, who appears to be a manager, looks mildly panicked.
“Hey,” I say, caution in my tone, as I approach. “Everything alright?”
“Not particularly,” Tyson says icily. “The hotel lacks counting skills, and they didn’t book enough rooms for the team. Perhaps they didn’t know hockey teams have goalies because Garrison and I don’t have rooms.”
Coach glares briefly at Tyson before turning to me. “There was a miscalculation, and they’re already at capacity.”
“Coach has graciously offered to share a room with Coach Deveau,” Grady tells me.
“So that I can have a room,” Tyson explains.
Grady presses his lips together like he’s fighting to keep words in. Coach clears his throat, shoots Tyson another unpleasant look, and turns back to me. “Deveau has a room with two beds, and the only other person from the team who was assigned a room with two beds instead of one king was you.”
“Oh.”
“So… I know it’s not ideal and, as Tyson oh so helpfully pointed out immediately, it’s in your contracts as players that you each get your own room, but if you could?—”
“Share my room with Grady?” I finish for him. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
Coach sags in relief. The hotel employees rush off mumbling, “Thank you. We apologize. We’ll make another key card. Again, sorry for the error.”
Coach gives me an appreciative slap on the back. “Thanks for being a team player, Casco. I knew I could count on you to help out a teammate.”
I know he’s saying it as a direct dig at Tyson, but he’s already halfway to the elevator bank. The hotel manager returns and hands Grady his key card and another apology. Grady nods. “It’s fine.”
Together we walk to the elevators as the manager turns to apologize to Coach again. The doors are already closing on the elevator Tyson’s in. He doesn’t move to hold it, and we don’t rush to squeeze in. As soon as the doors are closed, Grady whispers, “Ass. Hole.”
The elevator next to the one that Tyson was in opens, and we step in. It feels oddly salacious to be taking him to my room. Probably because I’m really hoping we fuck around. I haven’t stopped thinking about the night at his apartment. It was only two days ago, but it feels like a month.
We step off on my floor, both pulling our bags behind us. “You weren’t in your room yet when Coach called?”
I shake my head. “I had followed Abbott to his.”
“You were with Abbott?” He seems shocked and maybe even mildly… upset?
“Yeah…” I nod and smile and wait for him to pull out his keycard because we’re in front of my—our—door now. But he’s just standing in front of the door, turned to me, staring. So I pull out my keycard and swipe. I have to lean into him to reach the door handle, our jackets brushing each other.
I slide by him and walk into the room, holding the door open for him. The room has two double beds, just like they said downstairs. “Why were you hanging out with Abbott?”
“Asking him for tips on how to make you come harder.”
Grady’s head snaps around so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave himself whiplash. I burst out laughing, and he lets go of his suitcase and gives me a shove. I step back, hit the bed with the backs of my legs, and fall onto it, grinning. “You fucking did not.”
“I didn’t. But I did apologize for being a jealous dickhead,” I reply, propping up on my elbows as I watch Grady move to the door and turn the dead bolt, hitting the little button beside the door that activates the Do Not Disturb on the other side. My dick starts to come to life in my pants. “I explained I was jealous because I figured out he had been with you.”
He looks floored again, his mouth hanging open as he peels off his coat. “You’re… you didn’t.”
“I did.” I sit up and reach for him, grabbing him by the belt on his pants and pulling him to me. I look up at him, my chin resting on the rocks that are his abs. “You upset about it?”
“No. Abbott knows the code. He isn’t going to say a word to anyone.” Grady’s hand sifts through my hair, his nails raking over my scalp. It feels so good, my eyelashes flutter. “You wanna fuck around?”
“Yes.”
He smiles and starts undoing his shirt.
Ten minutes later, all our clothes are in a heap on one bed and we’re a tangle of limbs on the other. Grady’s body is on top of mine, his arousal hard and leaking against my thigh. My own cock is pressed against his stomach, and when he shifts, rolling his hips, I see those stars I love so much. “You want another blow job?”
