Game Changer

by Rachel Reid

  Scott bent his knees until they were touching his chest, coaxing Kip to push deeper. Kip grabbed Scott’s hips and hauled him closer, then he slid back and thrust in, hard and fast. Scott cried out, but he was smiling. He looked ecstatic.

  “Just like that,” Scott breathed. “Hard. Please.”

  He hooked a leg over Kip’s shoulder, and raised his hips, urging Kip to take him even deeper.

  Kip watched, mesmerized, as Scott stroked his own cock. He was already on the verge of shattering, but when Scott murmured Kip’s name, Kip lost all control. His rhythm was completely gone, and he was just fucking Scott as hard and fast as he could as his mind broke apart. It was all just too much.

  Suddenly, Scott threw his head back, his chin jutted out and his neck muscles strained. His back arched and he came with a gorgeous shudder that Kip would never forget. He spurted, endless and beautiful, against his own stomach and chest, some even hitting his neck. Kip moaned and swore and came on the next thrust, almost screaming with how good it felt.

  When the last waves subsided he collapsed on top of Scott, panting and smiling. After a minute, Scott gently maneuvered him so he could reach his mouth, and kissed him.

  “Thank you,” Scott murmured happily. “You have no idea... Thank you.”

  “You’re thanking me?”

  “I needed that,” Scott said. “It’s been a long time.”

  Kip felt brave. “How long?”

  “August.”

  “Are you—?”

  “Early August.”

  Kip wanted to ask how that was possible, but the answer might lead into territory that wouldn’t make for great post-sex pillow talk. Scott obviously wasn’t comfortable picking up men.

  What he really wanted to know was: Why now? Why me?

  Instead he said, “I should get cleaned up.”

  “Bathroom’s that way,” Scott said, gesturing to a door across the room. “I’ll use the one in the hall.”

  Kip got himself cleaned up and walked out of the (incredible) bathroom. Scott was sitting up, propped against the headboard, with a thin sheet over him.

  Kip began collecting his clothes. He wouldn’t kid himself about what this was. The sex had been great, but Scott would probably like him to leave now.

  “Well,” he said, “thanks for that.”

  “You’re leaving?” Scott sounded disappointed.

  Kip paused, holding his jeans in one hand, his T-shirt in the other. “Yeah, I mean...”

  “You don’t have to,” Scott said. “You can stay. I... I’d like you to stay. If you want.”

  Kip stared, gobsmacked, at the gorgeous, sex-rumpled hockey star who was very shyly inviting him to stay the night. He actually looked nervous, as if he thought Kip might turn him down.

  Kip dropped the jeans and shirt on the floor, and returned to the bed, grinning. “Don’t gotta twist my arm.”

  He sprawled playfully across the width of the bed with his head on Scott’s thigh.

  “I want to know about you.” Scott smiled down at him and began stroking his hair. “Will you tell me something? I can’t think of the right questions to ask.”

  Kip gazed up into his face. “My real name is Christopher, but almost no one calls me that. I’m twenty-five. I... I still live with my parents in Brooklyn because I need to pay off my student debt or get a much better job before I can move out.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed about that. I grew up dirt-poor. You think I don’t know how lucky I am?”

  “Not lucky,” Kip said. “You worked hard for everything you have.”

  “I had help. I got a scholarship to a boarding school with a great hockey program when I was fourteen. I had a free ride to college. I haven’t had to think about money for over ten years. I just wish my mom...”

  “She, um...?”

  “Died. Yeah. When I was fifteen.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. She was really amazing. I would’ve liked to have been able to take care of her the way she deserved. Buy her a nice house. All that.”

  “Only child, right?”

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “Yeah, it was just the two of us.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. We should probably talk about happier things.”

  “Don’t have to talk at all, if you don’t want,” Kip said, reaching up to stroke Scott’s face. He felt traces of stubble.

  Scott smiled at him. “I should sleep soon. I have an early practice tomorrow. Long one too.”

  “Mm,” Kip said, feeling drowsier by the minute as Scott continued to stroke his hair. “You sure you want me to stay?”

  “Definitely.” The way Scott said it was so warm. So affectionate. Kip’s heart fluttered.

  Uh-oh.

  One night, Grady. Don’t go getting stupid. Appreciate what you’ve been given here.

  Kip got under the sheet with Scott. He rested his head on Scott’s chest, letting the rise and fall of his breathing lull him to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  Scott blinked awake at the sound of his alarm. It took him a moment to register the weight on his chest that was making it difficult to reach for the phone.

  Kip.

  Scott grinned as he turned off the alarm and let the memories of the previous night wash over him. He had done it! He had successfully picked up a man here in Manhattan. A man he really liked. A man who was now naked and sleeping blissfully in his bed, curled against him.

  But Scott had to leave. Fuck. The car would be here in, what? Forty minutes?

  He sighed, and turned to kiss the top of Kip’s head before he slipped out from underneath him. Kip made a small noise of sleepy protest, but immediately settled back into a deep slumber.

  Scott took a quick shower, and was in the bedroom, pulling on his T-shirt, when he heard rustling.

  “Hey,” Kip said groggily. He was propped up on an elbow, his hair was all messed up, and one eye was closed. Adorable.

  “Sorry to wake you,” Scott said. “I need to go. You can stay if you—”

  “Nah, I should go. I, um...”

  “You’re working today?”

  “No. If I was working today I would have been late an hour ago. Just... I should go home.”

  “Right.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kip was already out of the bed, scooping up his clothes off the floor. He dressed himself quickly, then went into the bathroom.

  Scott exhaled. This was unknown territory for him. Kip was hardly his boyfriend, but he wasn’t just a one-night stand that Scott had picked up either. At least, not to Scott.

  “I’m working tomorrow,” Kip said, when he got out of the bathroom. He seemed as unsure as Scott was. “You play tomorrow night, right?”

  “Yeah. And Saturday.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning? Unless you think that magic smoothie isn’t working anymore.”

  Scott grinned. “I think it’s still working. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”

  “Okay.”

  Kip left the bedroom and Scott followed. He watched as Kip retrieved his coat and backpack from the floor, and put on his sneakers.

  “So, uh...have a good practice,” Kip said when he was ready to leave.

  “Thanks.” Scott frowned. Why was this so awkward?

  “Tomorrow morning, then.”

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  Fuck it.

  Scott strode over to Kip and kissed him. He held his face in his hands and tried to show him what he was feeling, since he couldn’t tell him. Kip seemed to hear him, because he kissed back just as fervently, and it was all Scott could do to keep himself from pressing Kip up against a wall, unfastening his jeans, and...

  “I’ll see ya,” Kip said, murmuring the words against Scott’s lips. “Tomorrow.”

 
; Scott reluctantly let him go. He wanted to walk him to the front door, but there was no need. Kip didn’t need the codes to leave the building. Besides, it was better that no one saw them together so early in the morning.

  After the door closed, Scott threw himself back against a wall, cursing how fucking hard this was. It wasn’t just being gay, or being famous. It was both of those things combined and knowing that it wasn’t possible to openly be who he was in his line of work.

  He used to think this was the price. He had been fortunate in so many ways and this was the trade-off. He could rise from poverty to play in the NHL—play in New York City, even—and enjoy this dream life that was so close to perfection.

  He just couldn’t fall in love. Couldn’t share with his teammates the stories of dating and marriage and children. He could try to fill that void with everything that made his life exciting and enviable, but that void always remained. Always gnawing away at him.

  His first few seasons in the NHL hadn’t been so hard. He’d been a kid, not looking for more than an occasional release anyway. The older guys had had families, sure, but Scott had been hanging out with the other young players. As Scott got older, it had started getting harder. At twenty-eight, he was hardly an old man, but in hockey years he was getting up there. Each season that went by, he found it more of a struggle to conceal who he really was.

  He wasn’t lonely, exactly. He had his teammates, and they were like family. But sometimes he longed for something in his life that had nothing to do with hockey. Nothing to do with being famous.

  But his life belonged to too many people: the NHL, the New York Admirals, his agent, his coaches, his sponsors, the press, and the fans. Maybe it was too much to hope for something that could take him away from all of that.

  Or maybe that thing had just walked out of his apartment, after a whispered promise that he’d see him tomorrow.

  * * *

  Kip received a text from Elena while he was on the train back to Brooklyn.

  Come to this thing with me or we aren’t friends anymore.

  She sent a link immediately after. It led to an article describing the upcoming Equinox Foundation Gala for STEM Opportunities for Youth, a high-profile annual fund-raiser that brought together a who’s who of New York. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d be attending. Not if he wasn’t serving hors d’oeuvres at it, anyway.

  Kip read over the article. The gala was in three weeks.

  He texted back. I don’t have a tux!

  Elena replied quickly and, he imagined, irritably. Rent one.

  Would Scott be there? He had to have been invited...

  Kip grinned. The Equinox Gala! Things were looking up! He was still riding the high of the night he had just spent with Scott Hunter. And the possibility of similar nights in the future seemed to be implied when they’d parted...

  Don’t read too much into it. Don’t get your hopes up.

  It was early in the year. Maybe this would be a turning point for Kip Grady. A gala invitation. A possible job opportunity. A new...friend.

  He really hoped Scott wanted to see him again. Kip’s standards were now set ridiculously high after last night, and it would be really hard to go out and pick up just some guy.

  Kip made a plan for himself for the rest of the day that involved going to the gym, working on his résumé, and other responsible things that had nothing to do with daydreaming about Scott Hunter.

  * * *

  Kip was working with Maria when Scott came into the shop the next morning.

  He couldn’t be completely sure, but he thought he detected a hint of disappointment on Scott’s face when he saw that Kip wasn’t alone.

  “Hello again,” Scott said, making an obvious effort to sound casual.

  “Hey,” Kip said, trying not to show how giddy he felt just seeing Scott again. “Long time no see.” Smooth.

  “Right,” Scott said.

  For a moment, they both just kind of stared at each other, neither of them speaking. Kip wished he could hop over the counter and wrap himself up in Scott. He wanted to kiss him so badly.

  “Well,” Scott said. “The usual, I guess.”

  “You got it,” Kip said with a little smirk. Scott’s lips twitched up a bit too.

  Kip made the smoothie and handed it to Scott. He glanced at Maria, who had just been silently watching them both the whole time. He quickly looked away when he felt himself blushing. When he glanced back at Scott, he was blushing too.

  “So...game tonight and tomorrow night, huh?” Kip asked as if they hadn’t already had this conversation.

  “Yeah. Then a day off before a short road trip.”

  “Day off?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Scott said as he took a sip of smoothie.

  “Big plans for the day off?” Kip was trying to be as subtle as possible, which wasn’t very subtle at all.

  “I was thinking about staying home. Maybe watching a movie.” He sounded casual, but Scott’s gaze was threatening to melt Kip on the spot.

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “I think so,” Scott said. “Anyway, I should get going.” He handed Kip the usual twenty-dollar bill, and maybe his touch lingered when his fingers met Kip’s palm. “See you later, Kip.”

  “See you...” Kip said, his voice faint.

  Scott left quickly.

  “Oh. My. God!” Maria exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “What? What the hell, Grady? Are you guys engaged or what?”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “You need to tell me what I just witnessed.”

  “Nothing!” Kip knew his face was giving him away. His cheeks still felt flush and he was biting his lip to keep from grinning.

  Fortunately he was saved by a customer walking in. Maria gave him a “this isn’t over” look before turning to the young woman who was reading the menu above their heads.

  Kip unfolded the bill to put it in the cash register and found a tiny slip of paper tucked inside. It almost fluttered to the floor, but he caught it. When he read it, he had to go to the back room so Maria wouldn’t see his expression.

  The paper had, in very neat handwriting, Scott Hunter’s phone number on it, and the word Sunday written underneath.

  Holy shit. Holy shit!

  Kip quickly pulled out his phone and entered the number into his contacts. Then he took a photo of the paper, just in case, before he slipped the number carefully into his wallet.

  He’d hoped, but hadn’t dared to assume, that Scott would want to see him again. Even if it was only for sex, that would be fine. More than fine.

  He allowed himself a minute to do a little “Scott Hunter totally wants me” dance in the privacy of the back room before he floated back out to serve people smoothies.

  * * *

  Sunday seemed to take forever to come. Kip had seen Scott again on Saturday when he’d come into Straw+Berry for his usual game-day smoothie, but the shop had been busy and Scott hadn’t lingered.

  He had probably wanted to leave before anyone recognized him. The chance was pretty good these days, because the whole city was talking about the triumphant return of Scott Hunter. Kip had watched Scott being interviewed after the game, and he had been asked, point-blank, what he attributed the turnaround in his game to.

  He had just smiled shyly. “Guess I just found something that reignited me.”

  Kip had been giddy ever since.

  And now it was finally Sunday and he had no idea what to do. He had Scott’s number. He had the vague instruction to call Scott today. But he didn’t have a time to make the call.

  Or should he text him?

  But it was only eleven in the morning. Even a text would seem eager at this hour.

  Right?

  Kip decided to hit the gym. He’d
go to the gym, take a shower, eat something, then text Scott.

  At just after two in the afternoon, he sat on his bed and stared at his phone, wondering what on earth to write. He was overthinking it. All he needed was to let Scott know that he hadn’t lost his number, and he would like to see him.

  At a loss for something better, he texted, Hey. It’s Kip.

  He put his phone down. There. Scott would probably get back to him later. He had Kip’s number now.

  He has my number now!

  Kip was about to get up and put on a movie or something when the phone vibrated.

  Scott: Good to hear from you, Kip.

  Had Scott been waiting to hear from him?

  Scott sent another message. Was worried you lost my number.

  Kip swore to himself. He should have texted earlier.

  He was about to write back when his phone rang. Scott’s number.

  “Scott?”

  “Yeah. Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Sorry for calling. I’m just really slow at typing.”

  “S’okay.”

  “Are you busy, or—”

  “No! No, it’s fine. I, uh, it’s nice to hear your voice.” Kip cringed. But he could hear Scott’s smile over the phone.

  “You too, Kip. I’ve been thinking. A lot. About the other night.”

  Kip lay back on his bed, grinning. “Yeah?”

  “Mm. I was hoping you might want to come over later.”

  “I could probably make myself available,” Kip said playfully.

  “We could get some food delivered. Watch a movie. It doesn’t just have to be—”

  “That sounds perfect. As long as it can also include—”

  “Oh, it definitely can.”

  Kip bit his lip. Scott’s voice had dropped a bit and gathered some gravel when he’d said that last thing.

  “So what time do you want me?” Kip asked, trying his best to match Scott’s tone.

  “I’m not doing anything right now.”

  Shit. “You want me to come over now?”

  “If you want.”

  “I do. I want. I’ll see you soon.”

  Kip almost hung up, but then he thought to ask, “Oh. Should I...should I bring an overnight bag?”