Page 90 of Bro Code

“God–”

Louis thrust up wildly, squeezing Riley’s hand as he came, stroking him hard and fast with the other. Riley cried out and pulsed around him and he felt the throb of Riley’s cock in his hand as it spurted. He kept stroking him as Riley’s mouth smashed into to his again.

Riley didn’t stop kissing him after they’d finished. He held Louis’s face in both hands and kept kissing him for a long time, with the roar of the highway going by below them.

Louis took the blindfold off, which was unnecessary because he kept his eyes closed while he kissed him back. He’d never done that with anyone else — just sit there kissing after everything was done. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

Maybe it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean something.

But he was starting to feel like it did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Riley

Two days after they got back from New York, Riley was at practice in his home rink.

Home rink: Montreal.

It was weird that playing against his old team had made him finally feel like this place was his home. But what New York had done, showing support for him and Nic and Liam, had made him incredibly proud to be playing for Montreal. His team. He belonged here.

It turned out Lindholm had been the one to organize the handshake. Riley ordered three kegs from his favorite brewery in upstate New York to be shipped to his house as a thank you. Lindholm texted, Are you out of your mind??? I’m a father now!!! (But thanks I badly needed it lol.)

The press was still going nuts: they’d dubbed the NHL The League of Extraordinarily Gay Gentlemen, and Montreal was embracing its status as the gayest team in that league. They’d issued a press release expressing their thanks for New York’s solidarity and agreeing to pay any fines issued without complaint. After all, the statement concluded, we are gentlemen up here in Canada.

So far, the league hadn’t issued any fines.

Calls had been coming from Rick for two straight (or gay) days. Riley was being bombarded with interview requests and brand deals. He was finally in the media for something positive again, which was a huge, if slightly stressful, relief.

The upshot of all this? There was no way Montreal could trade him now.

He still hadn’t figured out his feelings about Rick. Sure, it was great that Rick was blowing up his phone now, but just because it was all working out, didn’t mean Riley wasn’t pissed about how Rick had mishandled things before. But maybe he was holding an unnecessary grudge? He thought about calling his mom to ask for advice, but to his surprise, she beat him to the punch: on the flight back to Montreal she called to let him know how proud she was that he was managing his career so well without her.

“You don’t need me anymore,” she told him. “You’re making all the right moves on your own.”

Riley laughed. “All the right moves like getting hit in the face by some guy’s helmet.”

“All the right moves like handling that situation with grace,” she said.

“Thanks,” said Riley. “I learned from the best.”

His mom tutted like flattery would get him nowhere, and said, so casually, “So we heard there was a boy who brought you home from the hospital…”

Aha, so this was the actual reason for the call. “Who told you that?”

“The assistant coach who was at your hotel looking after you when we got there.”

A small spike of nervousness – he and Louis hadn’t officially disclosed anything to the team about their…well, whatever it was. Relationship? Was that what they were doing?

“So is there?” said his mom. “A boy?”

Riley sighed – of course she’d never step completely out of his life. But that was fine. He liked having her in it. He glanced behind him to where Louis sat hunched over his laptop, and smiled. “Something like that,” he said.

Just because he was safe from a trade didn’t mean Riley was off the hook. His game was still not up to par, and he had a lot of work to do to get it there. The Montreal team was starting to feel like a family — well, except Liam, but honestly, he seemed kind of grumpy in general — and Riley didn’t want to let them down.

The reason he’d played so well against New York that night had been mostly adrenaline. He couldn’t rely on that going forward. He’d been talking to the team’s pscyh, and Coach Myers — they were working on a plan to get him where he needed to be without having to go into the Assistance program and make it a whole deal.

A week after the New York game, he stood under the shower in the locker room with his eyes closed for a long time after practice, letting the water stream down his face. He was waiting for everyone to clear out, and was surprised to see Liam still there when he shut off the water. He was standing under a shower at the end of the row doing the same thing Riley had been doing: eyes closed, face completely under the water. From the amount of steam coming off him it looked like he had it turn up insanely hot.