Page 19 of Playing His Game

Adam turned east off the Piestewa Freeway, right back into Biltmore. Guess Mo wasn’t getting dinner out of this.

“Well, today certainly has been something,” Mo said as they pulled into his drive. “I’d say thank you, but that would imply gratitude.”

Adam’s knuckles turned white against the steering wheel. “You wouldn’t want anyone to think you were grateful to others.”

Mo’s stomach rolled. He remembered now why he’d never tried to make friends with this asshat. Every time they met previously, Mo left the exchange feeling like Adam found him wanting.

Mo got out of Adam’s boring car and refrained from slamming the door long enough to say, “See you next time, snookums. Can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but for some reason, you did agree to this!”

If Adam had thoughts about that, Mo didn’t want to hear them. He stomped up the front steps and jabbed in the code to unlock his door.

He considered calling Sage, but they were probably too busy to hear about his bullshit again. Instead, he stalked toward the garage. He needed some mechanical therapy and a palate cleanser after that horrid Land Rover.

4

Adam wanted to ignore his alarm, but he was due at practice in an hour.

He fumbled around his nightstand until he located the alarm and silenced it, then hauled himself out of bed for his morning routine.

He’d shower after practice, so he dressed in casual clothes and went to the kitchen to start the coffee. Then he picked up his phone to catch up while he drank his banana, strawberry, and protein powder smoothie.

He didn’t get to the news—not that he’d complain about that—because the team group chat had over a hundred missed messages. He also had several from Chels. Figuring hers would be the easier one to start with, he opened it.

YOU FINALLY GOT A BOYFRIEND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?

Adam, I’m wounded.

WAIT, HE’S THE OWNERS’ SON?! I THOUGHT YOU HATED THAT GUY. ARE YOU OKAY?!!

Adam swallowed back the creeping shame of having to lie to his big sister and best friend. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction. After all, the last time they’d talked about Mo, Adam was complaining about him being a spoiled brat.

Yeah, it’s true. And I’m good.

She sent back some heart emojis and another slew of question-mark-exclamation-point hybrids.

You owe me a chat later. I want to know when you admitted to yourself all that bad blood was just a front for the sexual tension.

Adam very much did not want to “chat later.” Not until he and Mo could figure out more of the backstory. Chels would want details that didn’t exist, and Adam sucked at improv.

K. When we can find the time.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the team chat, then noped out of it. That would be easier to deal with in person instead of trying to catch up on the backlog. And the messages were still coming in.

Adam poured himself an extra-large thermos of coffee, added his favorite nutritionist-disapproved flavored syrup, and got on the road. It might not be a long drive, but he wasn’t about to risk being late when the boys would take it as a sign that Mo had kept him up late. Or busy this morning. Or both.

“Here he is, boys, the man of moment!” Hallsy crowed when Adam stepped through the locker-room door. “And looking fresh as a daisy. Don’t tell me you had an early night, Murph!”

Adam hoped his smile looked enigmatic rather than strained.

“Just because it was an early night doesn’t mean it was a bad one. Maybe our captain iswell rested,” Jorts cut in with a comical leer.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” Adam protested. Not that he usually had much to tell, but no teammate ever disputed his “no details” policy. Of course Jorts, and a few others over the years, wanted the romantic gossip too, but they were in the minority.

“So there was kissing!”

Adam rolled his eyes and took his seat to get dressed.

At his stall a few feet down, Smitty was studying Adam thoughtfully. Adam met his gaze and cocked an eyebrow.