Page 95 of Playing His Game
Adam snorted, then instantly regretted it. He didn’t have the brain power to figure Mo out or even acknowledge his feelings about their current messy situationship.
“Come in.” He turned back to his couch cocoon. Mo followed and, after a pause, sat next to him.
“How’s your head?”
“Scrambled. Sore.”
“Poor baby,” Mo murmured. He scootched a bit closer. “Lights bothering you?”
Adam opened one eye to look at Mo. “How’d you guess?”
Mo didn’t rise to the bait. “Well, it was that or you’ve decided that no lights and dark corners are a vibe.”
“More like boring. Hard to pass the time when you can’t look at anything.”
“Can I help?”
He grunted. Over the past few months, most of their “dates” together had involved leaving the house and/or athletic activity, all of which were currently on the doctor’s verboten list.
“Well, what did Jorts do to help you pass time?”
“Mostly fussed over me and fed me or let me sleep.”
“Oh. Do you want to sleep now?”
“Not really. Just… lying in the dark is boring.”
“Well, if you want to keep your eyes shut, that leaves activities that require listening, not looking.”
“Right.”
“Radio? Podcast? Crossword? Trivia? Book?”
The first suggestions made Adam’s head swim—too much noise or too much thinking. Besides, Adam had already learned that hockey-talk radio wasn’t worth the effort. How could they have so much to say about a potential new team when the NHL hadn’t even bothered to announce it? But… “A book could be nice.”
“Right. What are you into?” Mo shifted around. Adam squinted open one eye and saw him pull his phone out.
Too lazy to find words to answer the question, Adam pointed in the direction of the living room with the bookshelves. “That way. Whatever you want.”
Adam couldn’t read Mo’s expression, but he disappeared. Adam shut his eyes and time drifted.
Sock feet on hardwood, sounding unusually loud to Adam, warned him of Mo’s return.
“Find anything?”
“Something calledHogfather, which is not, I gather, about a guy who owns a motorcycle, which is disappointing.”
This time, Adam managed to remember to avoid the impulse to snort. “Sir Terry. Good choice.”
“Yeah?”
“Mum got me that when I was a kid. I read the rest of his books on road trips. Lots of time on buses and in hotel rooms.”
“Aren’t young OHL players supposed to be using those hotel rooms for getting drunk and losing their virginity?”
Adam risked opening both eyes to give Mo a look.
“Aww, baby Captain Cardboard must have been so cute.”
