“I did, really well actually, and thank you. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate that you did.”
I grinned, pleased he’d managed to get a decent rest. “In that case, we have a busy day ahead of us. I hope you’re up for it.”
“Anything, yeah, sure. When’s your team arrive?”
I smirked, loving the nonchalance with the question, especially that it was absolutely legit. There was no stargazing or fanboying. Nate was one of the most down-to-earth blokes I knew, and time hadn’t changed that.
All time had done was make it almost impossible to keep my hands off him.
Restraint was a fuck of a thing, especially when there was so much unsaid between us.
“Did you say tomorrow?” he prompted, since I’d zoned out, wondering why I hadn’t figured how I felt about Nate much sooner.
“Yeah. They’ll be here by midday, with the game the following night.”
“Last game, huh?”
“Yeah, the Comets are high up in the Conference standings, and while we’re not ranking high, we need the points in our division. It’ll put the team in a better standing next year, especially when it comes to trades and drafting. We’re not in for playoffs this season.” I shrugged. While it was gutting, considering the injuries from a few players this year, we hadn’t done so badly. Plus my ankle still wasn’t quite right. There wasn’t a chance I’d be letting a slight twinge hold me back in my last game, though. Not with Nate finally here.
“And you were okay getting me a ticket?”
I chuckled. I had access to tickets whenever I wanted. I usually ended up giving them away to my teammates who were chasing some. This was the first time ever I was using a ticket for someone I cared for, someone here just for me. “Yeah. Other than I think Marv, who deals with all ticket handling for the team, just about had a heart attack with shock when I asked him to make sure you had a good seat.”
Nate didn’t respond with more than a small smile before looking out the window at the passing cars.
Before long, we arrived at the hotel and headed up to the suite I’d secured. I led Nate in, showed him his room, and handed him a key card. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. I could do with a shower too.”
I left him to it, trying not to think about everything I wanted to discuss with him. Today, or any day before my final game, wasn’t a good idea. My focus needed to be on the court, not on my heart or my dick. Instead, today and tomorrow morning, I’d concentrate on having a good time with an old friend while building in some training. Everything else would have to wait.
* * *
Since I tendedto play guard when on the court and knowing the Comets and their go-to strategies, Nate and I were hot and ridiculously sweaty on the small court I’d managed to source for a couple of hours practicing my defensive plays.
Over an hour and a half in, Nate was bent over, hands on his knees and huffing heavily.
“I swear to Christ, I’m gonna throw up.” He peered up at me, still managing to shoot me a stink eye while panting so fast I was sure he would hyperventilate.
I snorted despite the twinge of concern in my gut.
Nate was a lot fitter than I expected for a guy who I figured spent most of his time working in his family store. His frame was thicker than the last time we’d played one-on-one together, a given since over eight years had passed by. But underneath his shorts and tee, he still appeared to be in decent shape, though I’d noticed a sliver or two of softer flesh when his top had risen. I liked it. A lot.
Being surrounded by athletic bodies, all hard lines and taut, defined muscles for sure was nice to look at. But to rub against, to grip and take comfort in, not so much.
Not that I had any experience with that, really. Certainly none since going pro.
“You ready to stop? We can.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head. “You’ve still got thirty minutes to go. What can I do, bar sitting out, that isn’t going to kill me but will be useful to you?” He heaved himself up to stand and wiped his sweaty brow.
The guy looked shattered and still all levels of appealing.
I racked my brain for what we could do to make him feel involved but without destroying him. “How about we just shoot some hoops?”
“Seriously?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay to wind down, and I can always do with the practice.”
