“Nah,” Max said. “Too awkward. I don’t want it to seem like I expect gifts.” He put his sandwich down with one huge bite taken out and made grabby hands toward the biggest gift. “Now gimme.”
Lindatsked. “Manners, Max,” she said, but she passed down the packages anyway.
Everyone else kept eating while Max tore into the first present—a large, framed picture of himself hoisting the Cup. Playing into Max’s ego, Grady thought, warm but wry. Max deserved it.
“Hey, they got my good side.” He grinned and put the picture down to hug his parents. “Thank you. What do you think? I should hang it above the fireplace, right?”
“Think it might be a bit small,” Grady said.
“I’ll frame the game-winning puck for the other side,” Max said cheerfully. “It can go over Grady’s Lady Byng.”
Grady knew he was being a little shit on purpose, but he also meant what he said, and the impact of it half knocked the breath out of him—Max’s trophies displayed on the shelf next to Grady’s, wherever they lived, forever.
The thought alone made it almost impossible to swallow down what he’d wanted to say for weeks now.Marry me, please. You’re a lunatic with a big mouth and a bigger heart and I love you a shameful amount.But he was absolutely not proposing in front of Max’s parents, and he probably would’ve fucked that up anyway and said something likeI can’t believe I want to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, what the fuck.
Instead of either of those options, he wrinkled his nose and said, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want it to get lost—tiny piece of rubber like that, barely covers a few inches of wall space.”
Big Max and Linda laughed. Max beamed and stuck out his tongue. “Seriously, though, thanks for this. It’s awesome.” He picked up the second package. “Not sure how you’re going to top it with whatever this is?” He looked at Grady.
Grady shook his head. “That’s not from me.” He’d spent more than one night trying to figure out what to get for Max and had eventually decided he was just better cut out for spontaneous gifts, like dishwashers and actually nice shampoo. Instead he’d booked a fishing tour that came complete with a cooking lesson from a well-known local chef.
Max looked at his parents. “Two presents?”
Linda glanced at Grady and smiled—a smile that was a little too close to Max’s smirk for comfort. “Jess asked if she could send that to us instead of here, so you wouldn’t sneak it open. She wanted to make sure Grady was there when you opened it.”
Hooting with laughter, Max picked up the box and shook it. “I like her style.”
“I already hate it,” Grady deadpanned, but he’d gone warm inside too. Jess cared enough to send a present—that was good progress, even if she’d only done it to make Grady grind his teeth.
Now that he thought about it, maybe he’d let her spend too much time around Max.
Or maybe it was Max’s gears she was trying to grind, because when he tore the paper off and opened the box, he spent a moment staring inside like he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. Then, finally, he pulled the item out.
From his viewpoint, all Grady could make out was that it was a black snapback hat. He couldn’t tell what was causing the array of emotions shifting over Max’s face as he tried to land on a reaction.
After a few more seconds he looked at Grady and said solemnly, “This is the greatest birthday present I’ve ever gotten. I am never taking it off.”
He pulled on the hat. The front read Trophy Boyfriend.
Oh Jesus. Grady buried his laugh in his hands. “She must really like you.” Not just good progress—greatprogress. Jess used to think Max broke Grady’s arm during a game on purpose. Now she liked him enough to send a teasing gift that was equally a jab at both of them.
But she’d also inadvertently given Grady an idea. One that might not be quiteromantic, but felt morethemthan anything else he’d come up with. “You might change your mind about never taking it off, though,” he continued as he handed over the envelope with the details of their fishing excursion.
Max’s eyes went bright and then sharp when he opened it, and he leaned over and planted a kiss on Grady’s mouth right in front of his parents, hat be damned. Somehow Grady managed not to flush. “Thank you. This is perfect.” He passed it to his mom so she could take in the details, and then he tapped his finger against his lips. “You’re right, though. I’d hate to get fish guts all over my new hat.”
“It would be a travesty,” Grady agreed, solemn.
“What would also be sad,” Max continued, clicking over into full shithead mode, “is if you caught less fish than me and had to wear it to the Cup parade.”
The bone-deep core layer of Grady’s personality—the asshole he tried to keep buried—recoiled in horror. The hat was funny on Max because he was the one with the Cup and because Grady was the more conventionally attractive between them. Reversed, the joke would feel a little pointed, like Max was saying,But at least you’re pretty.
Max didn’t really think that, though. And Grady could take a joke.
And—“Okay,” Grady said after a beat, “butwhenI catchmorefish than you, you wear a hat thatIpick out to the Cup parade.”
Max narrowed his eyes, obviously weighing the pros and cons. “No team-branded gear,” he said after a moment.
Grady stuck his hand out to shake. “Deal.”
