Page 16 of Bro Code

Porters met them with golf carts for the bags and coaches, and the players trekked by foot up a slope toward the lodge. Riley’s breath clouded in the mountain air.

“Pretty swank, boys,” said Nic, who’d been irritatingly chipper all the way from the airport, and seemed to be trying to get morale up. “Might be a barnburner of a weekend.”

Easy for him to say: he was the only person here with his partner.

An activities director met them at the main entrance to give them a tour. Stillpoint was huge: wellness spa, marina, helicopter pad, sea plane, and God only knew what else. In the main chalet, floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a view of the sparkling lake and snow-capped mountains. Their rooms were private cabins, connected by trails that wound through pine trees and ferns. The team had rented the entire compound from Thursday night through Sunday. No media, no members of the public trying to sneak selfies with the players. This weekend was about focus and teamwork. They were going to bond whether they wanted to or not.

Riley walked at the back of the group, reminding himself that he was grateful for his job and lucky to be here.

After the tour they had two hours of downtime before dinner. Riley dumped his suitcase at the foot of the bed in his cabin and washed his face in the bathroom. He was wired from the flight and didn’t particularly want to sit around for another two hours. He paced the room, went out to the balcony, then went back inside, dug the phone out of his pocket, and flopped backwards onto the bed to text Lindholm.

How’s New York without me?

While he waited for a reply, he swiped open Grindr.

He wasn’t looking for a hookup – that would be insanely dumb to attempt right under Coach’s nose on a team weekend like this. Just taking a look around. Maybe he’d find a chat or something. Something to take the edge off after the long flight. He kept thinking about Louis’ hands and it was making him…

Well. Something to pass the time.

The usual stack of notifications greeted him when he opened the app. He was getting absolutely swamped with dick and ass pics since coming out in June. On the one hand, it was great: he’d never had an easier time hooking up in his life. On the other, sometimes he didn’t want to open his phone and find a picture of some dude’s butthole.

None of the notifications were from anywhere around here — they were all from guys in New York. He went to the map to see what loaded up in the area. Maybe the resort employed a cute Alaskan fisherman or something, in a wool sweater and a pair of those yellow boots you always saw in pictures. He’d have a beard and his name would be Gilbert. Riley’d make him keep the boots on while they did it.

The map loaded.

Nada.

Literally nothing. Zip. Zero. Zilch.

Which made sense: they were in the middle of nowhere.

He sighed and swiped back to messages. No reply from Lindholm. He laid the phone on his chest and looked at the ceiling. He hadn’t heard from anyone on the New York team since he’d left. He wasn’t sure what that meant. Lindholm did have kids, he supposed, so that kept him pretty busy.

The phone buzzed and he picked it up. Notification from Grindr: someone was nearby. Frowning, he tapped it open.

It was Louis.

Riley dropped the phone. He jolted up on his elbows.

Olympics.

It all came flooding back.

That’s where he knew that guy from. They’d hooked up after the gold medal game. He was Nic’s friend. Riley had been drunk enough that night to be out on the dance floor, which he never did. Louis had found him and they’d ended up back at the apartment Louis was crashing at.

Riley looked down at the phone. His face had gone red with embarrassment and his heart was going a little fast. Louis could at least have given him a hint yesterday in the lobby, instead of standing there watching Riley embarrass himself.

A notification slid into the top of the screen.

@Louis: Well well well. And then the emoji that was just a pair of eyes.

Riley pursed his lips and read it three times. Was he…? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly be trying to hook up with Riley?

He closed the app and put the phone on the nightstand and laced his fingers on his chest and sighed at the ceiling. What was he actually planning to do until dinner?

Beside him, the phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Riley breathed in and out through his nose and told himself he was not interested in chatting with a guy who bugged the absolute shit out of him. No matter how pretty his hands were. Or his eyes.