Page 32 of Playing His Game
Adam sniffed. Mo ignored him.
“We should break up this summer.”
Mo hit the brakes a bit too hard at the red light. “Why this summer?”
“Because if we stay together longer, we’ll hit our fake anniversary.”
“Right. Why not sooner?”
Adam shrugged. The light turned green. “We could end things sooner, I guess, but the whole point of this is less press attention, right? Hard to get less attention if you abandon me midseason.”
“Wow. Okay there, drama queen.”
“Just being honest. Break my heart midseason and you’ll be the cause of every missed pass, hit crossbar, and stupid penalty.”
“I know my worth, honey, but I didn’t realize my influence.”
Adam snorted. “Don’t act surprised. You know what the Internet is like.”
The Internet was how they’d gotten here in the first place. “Okay so, a quiet summer breakup it is.”
The Cadillac dealership was more fun. Adam was less tense and the sales rep, who instantly recognized Adam, offered to send them on a test drive in the only Vistiq on the lot—shockingly not black, white, or silver.
Adam shimmied in the seat, clearly pleased with the space. It was still boring but there were definite perks to space, Mo mused as he slid into the passenger seat. Like a back seat big enough to fuck in.
The rep gave Adam a sly look and wished them a happy ride with a wink.
“Should I be offended he thinks I’m a sugar daddy with arm candy? Or happy that he doesn’t care we’re gay?” Adam mused as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“If anyone deserves to be offended, it’s me. As if I’d ever be impressed by this basic bitch.” Not that Mo would waste the energy on offense. He wasn’t the first man to assume Mo could barely drive let alone rebuild an engine, and he wouldn’t be the last. At least this time, Mo got some amusement out of watching the guy waste his energy trying to sell Adam on specs with jargon that went right over his head.
“Get on the highway,” Mo urged.
“Why?” Adam asked even as he flicked the blinker and eased onto the on ramp.
“Because this bitch might be boring, but she’s an EV, so at least she knows how to go.”
“Wha—”
“Hit the gas, honey.”
Adam followed direction. The car jumped from thirty to seventy. “Holy shit.”
Mo fought the urge to pet the dash. Adam eased back down to sixty, like the good law-abiding boy he was.
A couple miles down the road, Mo figured it was time for him to bite the bullet and set his boundaries. “I’ll go to regular games and share the date planning fifty-fifty, but I’m not hanging out with the team.”
Adam chewed his lip. Then he pulled off the highway and parked in the first lot he found. What a dork.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve had my fill of hockey bros.”
Adam’s face pinched. “I get that but…” Nobut, Mo wanted to snap, but he bit his tongue. He wanted Adam to agree, not fight. “What do you mean by not hanging out with them? Like not going to bars? Not coming to team family events? Not going to dinner with Jorts and his wife?”
“Yes.” All of that sounded like hell.
Adam blew out a breath. “I get not wanting to bar crawl with a bunch of rich straight boys.” Mo was pretty sure that only appealed to other straight boys. “But you can’t opt out of meeting Jorts.”
