Save of the Game (7 page)

They pulled away to catch their breath, and Ethan tried to think of something to say. But everything he came up with sounded lame. “Umm?” Great, that was brilliant. “Does that? Make you feel better?”

Riley’s dark eyes were wide and blurry. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay. We could keep doing it?”

Riley nodded again. “Maybe not in the hallway.”

Ethan looked around, like he’d forgotten where they were. “Oh. Right. Where…?”

They both looked at Riley’s bedroom door, then back at each other. That seemed a little daunting.

“Living room?” Ethan suggested, just as Riley said, “Sofa?” and they both laughed nervously and went to sit on the couch next to each other.

Now it felt like they were on a date. Maybe the bedroom would’ve been better. Thinking about that made Ethan hot all over and restless again. “I liked it, when you—” He couldn’t say it.
Got on top of me.
He’d never had a problem being vocal about sex in his life.

Wait. What the hell was he thinking? This wasn’t sex. This was kissing. Never mind that he hadn’t stopped at kissing since he was seventeen.

Riley was watching him with his usual patience. Ethan gave him a look that clearly said “I don’t know,” and Riley leaned in and kissed him again.

“What did you like?” Riley asked, his voice rough. “When I did what? Tell me.”

“Got on top of me,” Ethan said without hesitating, and his breath caught on a moan when Riley moved with his usual fluid grace and straddled him on the couch.

“Like this?” Riley was still giving him that sharp, intense look. The goalie stare. But there was nothing cold about it. Not now.

Ethan made a noise and kissed him, because that seemed better than responding with an embarrassing squeaky noise.

“I haven’t done this before,” Ethan said when they pulled apart. “I mean, other than the last time.”

“Me neither,” Riley said, and he got up on his knees and bent down to kiss him again.

Ethan’s instincts were to start touching, and his hands went to Riley’s chest like they were programmed to do so. It made him pull away from their increasingly heated kisses when he touched… well, not what he was expecting.

“So, that’s different,” Ethan said, feeling stupid.

Riley looked down at Ethan’s hand on his chest, braced like he was going to shove Riley off him. “Is that seriously how you touch girls? Because wow.”

Ethan was surprised into a laugh. “I’m used to, uh. Something else being there.”

“But do you just put your whole hand there like that? I mean, I’m not saying you don’t have game, because I remember hearing you with the girl who liked computers. Is that a specialty thing?”

“Computers?” It was the weirdest moment of Ethan Kennedy’s entire life.

“No,” Riley said, and he looked amused.

“I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re saying,” Ethan said bluntly. “Can we just go back to the kissing?”

“Sure.” Riley started kissing him again.

Ethan wondered if Riley was hard. Ethan was, and he didn’t know what to do about it. It seemed obvious, like he should be hard if he was kissing someone and into it. Which he was.

He wanted to pull Riley down on top of him, so he could find out if it was just him. But that seemed like a pretty advanced move. Maybe they weren’t there yet.

“Do you—should we stop?” Ethan hated how uncertain he sounded.

“Do you feel better?” Riley asked, head tilted. “You still look tense.”

“Because I’m making out with my roommate?” Ethan took a deep breath. Maybe kissing your roommate was a thing all guys did at some point or another, and they just didn’t talk about it. Like singing along with power ballads in the car, or getting teary eyed at the end of Disney movies. “I guess I feel better about the game, but it might be because I’m in shock about the making out, so I don’t know how to answer that.”

Riley nodded very seriously. “I can work with that.” He leaned down, but instead of kissing him on the mouth, he kissed Ethan’s neck instead. “Do you like this?”

Ethan’s hips bucked up sharply. “Yeah.” All the words were vacuumed out of him in a sweet, hot rush when Riley’s mouth moved closer to his ear. Ethan tilted his head so he had more room, even though it felt too good to be anything but a really bad idea.

Riley bit gently at his ear. “Don’t think so much.” He kissed Ethan’s neck again. “Just relax.”

“I don’t—okay, yeah.” Ethan rested his head back on the couch. His face was flaming red, but he moved his hands up and down Riley’s back. Ethan started to relax into it. He moved his hands with a little more confidence and curiosity and felt Riley’s muscles twitch in response.

They kept kissing, and it was getting fairly heated when Riley suddenly shifted his weight and settled on top of Ethan. The mystery of whether Riley was hard or not was solved beyond a shadow of a doubt, because Ethan could feel him, pressing against him and…. Oh,
fuck.

It felt good—better than kissing. Ethan bucked up hard against him, and that felt
better
, so he did it again, and that made them both moan.

That’s when they stopped. Because kissing was one thing, moaning was something else. Moaning was a sex thing. No one moaned when they were just making out.

Riley sat next to him on the couch, and they both stared straight ahead. Ethan wanted to go jerk off. He wanted Riley to get on his lap again. He wanted to see what would happen if they kept doing that, grinding on each other. Maybe without their pants on.

Ethan made a sound, and Riley jumped off the couch. “I—why don’t we—five minutes. Come back in five minutes, and we can play
Grand Theft Auto
.”

“Done,” Ethan said and went to his room. He checked the time on his phone as his other hand fumbled to get his jeans off. It wasn’t going to take him five minutes, but he couldn’t go out there first or he’d look like a loser without any stamina.

Ethan got himself off thinking about Riley on top of him, grinding and kissing his neck, and
do you like this
, and… yeah. That was all it took.

They each came back in the living room exactly seven minutes after they left it. Riley grabbed two coconut waters out of the fridge, and a Pepsi that he wouldn’t let Ethan have until he finished his water.

They played
Grand Theft Auto
and then both fell asleep on opposite sides of the couch, watching some movie with explosions and very little plot.

In the morning they went running. And then they went to practice, and Ethan thought maybe that was it and that it wouldn’t happen again. He told himself that was fine. It was okay. He didn’t need it or anything.

He wanted it, though. A lot. And Ethan had no idea what to do about that. He just hoped Riley did.

RILEY HAD
no idea what to do about Ethan.

They’d made out on the couch, and that was hot and different—but not
too
weird. But then Riley had lost his control for a second and sat on Ethan’s lap.

God, it had felt so
good
. He hadn’t wanted to stop, which was a problem.

It
was
a problem. Wasn’t it? It had to be. He couldn’t do things like that with Ethan. They were friends. Roommates. Teammates, for God’s sake. What the hell was he doing? Here he was, worried that the whole money thing was going to fuck everything up, and what did he decide to do? Add sex into the equation and hope for the best. No wonder he’d never been very good at math.

Riley waited until Ethan was out and he had the apartment to himself. Then he decided to call Lane.

“Hey,” Lane said cheerfully when he picked up. “How’s Florida? I miss the weather. Also dude, five goals? Jared gave me shit for how bad his old team beat
my
old team. Could you not do that again?”

Lane, who looked like he belonged in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad campaign and was easily the most talented player Riley had ever played with, occasionally said things that made it seem like he was an asshole. In reality he was one of the nicest, most generous guys Riley had ever met—just a little clueless about how to talk to other people.

Riley laughed despite himself. “I miss you. But then you say that, and it makes me remember why everyone thought you were a dick.”

“Yeah. I know. Jared told me that I should warn my new team on the first day of practice that sometimes I say stuff without stopping to think about how it might sound first.”

“Did you?” Riley knew Lane’s social skills had improved a lot during his season with the Storm, but he would probably always be a little awkward.

“I told people that my first pro season was kind of rough at first, ’cause I said dumb stuff without thinking, and that I’d probably do it again. But, you know, some of them have worse social skills than me.”

“I refuse to believe that, Lane.”

Lane sighed. “Maybe not. So, are you okay? Why’d that happen? You’re not injured. Are you?”

“Nope. Someone messed up my goal marks.”

Lane sounded as if Riley just told him someone had mowed down the entire team with the Zamboni. “What? Why?”

“It was an accident. My head just wasn’t in the game, and I was tired. Fourth start in five days and all that.”

“Right. The dog and pony show.”

Riley blinked. “The what?”

“That’s what my coach calls it. I don’t know. So what’s up?”

Riley said, sort of hesitantly, “Remember when you asked me if I was gay?”

“Yeah. And you said you weren’t
not
gay, which was weird, and I’d never heard anyone say that before.”

“And I said I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to make out with. Right?”

“Right. I mean, yeah. You said that.” Lane cleared his throat. “Did you? Meet someone you wanted to make out with?”

“Yeah.” Riley expelled a breath. “It’s, umm… Ethan Kennedy.”

“Kennedy?” Lane made an appreciative noise. “Do it. He’s hot.”

“I sort of… did… already,” Riley hedged. He was glad Lane wasn’t there to see him blush.

“Oh. Cool. So, did you like it?” Lane sounded like Riley just told him he’d tried a new flavor of Coke.

“Yeah,” Riley answered, wandering over to the window. “I did.”

“Right.” Lane paused. “So what’s the problem? Is there a problem? Did he not like it? Were you drunk? Was he asleep?”

Riley actually lifted the phone away from his ear and gave it a weird look before he answered. Lane clearly didn’t have a very good opinion of Riley’s make-out strategies. “Really?”

“I’m just asking,” Lane said defensively. “Are you just telling me this because I’m gay?”

Riley made an exasperated noise. “I’m telling you because I don’t know what to do and you’re my
friend
.”

“You don’t know what to do about what? Kissing? You kiss guys like girls, Riley. I’m pretty sure. I mean, I haven’t kissed any girls, but I’ve seen Jared do it, and it looks the same to me.”

Riley hit his head lightly on the glass window. “I know that. I just don’t know what it means. Or what I should do about it.”

“Kiss him again?” Lane sounded confused. “Or do you mean, like, what to do next? You’re not kissing him right now. Or are you?”

“Seriously, Lane?” Riley sighed and stared out at the ocean. It was going to storm. He could see the clouds gathering on the horizon. They were ominous and a potentially bad metaphor. Or else it was just the weather mimicking his phone conversation with Lane. “He’s not even home right now.”

“Well. Do you want to kiss him again? Or what?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Riley explained patiently. He pretended he was in goal, trying to find a nice, calm, centered place in his head. Unfortunately that was taken up by remembering how it felt to have Ethan beneath him.

“Did he like it?”

“I’m pretty sure he did,” Riley answered. He could see lightning in the distance. “But do I—what do I even—” Fuck. Riley didn’t even know how to
ask
the question.

“What? Dude. Look, Riley. He’s a guy. Just put your hand on his—hey!”

Suddenly Lane was gone, and there was someone else on the phone.

“Hi, Riley. This is Jared. I’m sorry. I can’t listen to Lane’s half of this conversation anymore. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, go do some sit-ups,” Jared said, clearly talking to Lane. His voice was so affectionate it made Riley smile.

And it made him a little jealous too.

“That’s cool.” Riley gave a small laugh. “Actually it’s better than cool. Thanks.” Riley didn’t know Jared Shore very well, beyond hockey and the few times he’d hung out during the summer before leaving with Lane for Toronto. He was a fighter like Ethan, but after having the best season of his entire career, the thirty-three-year-old veteran had hung up his skates and was coaching a junior hockey team in Toronto.

“I realize it’s pretty presumptuous of me to grab the phone. But I swear, if you don’t mind telling me what’s up, I’ll give you better advice than Dr. Love here.” Jared cleared his throat. “Or you can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business. This is really rude of me. Isn’t it? I’m as bad at this as Lane. Let’s blame him.”

“No. It’s fine. I promise.” Riley was glad no one was here to see him blushing again. Especially Ethan, who would probably make fun of him.

“So this is a new thing for you. Right?” Jared didn’t sound like he had a problem talking about it. Maybe he was used to uncomfortable conversations because he lived with Lane.

“Yeah.” Riley wondered what he wanted to ask. “For… umm. Both of us, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah. See, these are the details I did not get from Lane’s half of this conversation. He made it sound like you were kissing your roommate when he was sleeping on the couch.”

Riley couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. No. We were both awake. But I’ve never wanted to do that with a guy before. Is it just Ethan? Is that even possible?”

“I didn’t used to think so, but the older and somewhat wiser I get, the more I think we just fall for people,” Jared said simply. “Sometimes people can get over it being another guy and sometimes they can’t. Which is sad, because who doesn’t like blow jobs?”