Page 138 of The Blame Game

Dom had never done this before. Never lived with a partner.

Oh, he’d spent most nights he wasn’t on the road at Christian’s place, but he hadn’t moved in. Not in any official way.

He’d kept his own apartment, going there often enough to make it believable. He’d invited his teammates to his place to keep up the façade.

And God, that sounded too fucking exhausting to even contemplate now.

Not that he was delighted by the social media duties and how carefully they would have to present themselves, but there was a certain freedom in knowing that he had little left to hide now.

It had always felt like there was something hanging over his head, a box full of live scorpions waiting to rain down on him if someone whacked it just right and opened up everything he’d so carefully tucked inside.

But what could anyone say that hadn’t already been said?

So … the world knew he liked men. So what?

It would be a giant fucking pain in the ass when it came to dealing with the press and the public but the sky hadn’t fallen.

They’d already accused him of hiring an escort and he damn well knew how messy that could get if they managed to find any proof.

But that was it. There was nothing else that they could discover about him, really.

He had some speeding tickets and he’d been a shitty boyfriend to Christian and his family was a fucked-up mess but that was it.

There were no more secrets.

And well, he had to admit there were worse things than glancing over to see a gorgeous man standing in his kitchen, sliding his favorite brands of protein powder and supplements into the cupboard next to Dom’s.

Dom stepped forward, lightly pressing his body against Shea’s.

“What do you want to do for dinner? I don’t know about you but I am totally drained. I was thinking we could get takeout from one of my favorite restaurants rather than cooking. They do stuff that fits in my meal plan and it’s delicious.”

The tension in Shea’s body seemed to seep away. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

Dom pressed his lips to the hinge of Shea’s jaw. “I’ll send you a link to their menu and then once you let me know what you want, I can call it in.”

Dinner was good but the conversation was stilted as they ate at the dining room table and it didn’t feel normal until after dinner when they sat on the sofa and Dom reached for the remote. “Hockey?” he asked.

Shea smiled, his tense shoulders softening. “Yeah, hockey sounds good.”

And later that night, after the game was over and they were getting ready for bed, Dom took a seat on the floor to stretch and admitted that he liked the quiet sounds of Shea moving around in the bathroom.

When Shea walked into the bedroom, he paused, staring down at Dom where he lay on the rug. “Hey. You okay? I thought the ice while we watched the game would help.”

“That did help,” he admitted. “I just missed my appointment with Eddie this morning, so I’m a little stiff.”

Shea gave him an annoyed look. “Well, why didn’t you tell me? I can do the manual manipulation if you need it. Just tell me what they normally do.”

Dom ran through what the trainers typically did and Shea nodded. “Yeah, I can do that if you’re comfortable with it.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “I trust you. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Shea shrugged, kneeling on the floor beside Dom’s hip, wearing low-slung pajama pants and no shirt. Fuck he was gorgeous. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Dom said.

“Tell me if anything crosses from discomfort to pain. You know the difference.”

Dom did so he nodded and let Shea do his thing. Shea worked a little slower than the team’s trainers, probably because he didn’t have a line of guys waiting to go next and also probably because he’d never done this to Dom before.

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