Page 37 of Scoring Position

Nico ran his hands through his hair again and sighed. “It’s fine. If I wanted privacy, I would have gone somewhere private.”

“Right.” Ryan nodded, still looking wary. “Did you wanna talk about it?”

“No. Yes.” Unfortunately, talking about things actually seemed to work. Nico joined him in the kitchen and turned on the kettle.

Ryan took a seat at the breakfast bar and watched as Nico went through the tea ritual the same way his mother did it—he filled a ball with loose-leaf tea, let it steep in the pot, and pulled out mugs and milk while he waited. He didn’t always add jam, only when he was having a rough day and needed the comfort, but today was definitely a jam day.

Nico kept his eyes on the teapot. “My dad isn’t happy.”

“I kind of guessed that.” Nico looked up, and Ryan shrugged. “You, uh, called him Papa.”

Right. “He read the article about us living together. He was less than thrilled by the implication that you fixed me.”

Judging by the expression on Ryan’s face, that made all three of them. “Ah.”

The timer on Nico’s phone beeped, and he shut it off with a vicious swipe. Then he pulled the tea ball from the pot and placed a spoonful of jam in each mug before adding tea and milk. He stirred them, then slid one to Ryan, scooped up his own, and sipped it.

Ryan looked dubiously into his mug, but after a second, he shrugged and took a tentative sip. “So he’s upset about the idea of you, what, needing a man?” He inflected those last few words with as much derision as they deserved.

Nico snorted, but he already felt lighter. Talking about itwasworking. Gross. “More like he’s upset that my performance was so bad it needed fixing, that management brought you in, that there are rumors you had to fix my head, that there are rumors that we’re dating, that I moved you into my house, seemingly proving the rumors, and that neither of us have denied them.”

“That’s a long list.”

“There’s always a list with him,” Nico grumbled.

“Ouch.”

“Fuck, sorry.” He rubbed his forehead and took a long gulp of tea. The tea was helping too. “I’m making him sound—look, he loves me and wants what’s best for me. He’s worried, I know that.” Because Nico might not care if people thought he was sleeping with Ryan, but hedidcare if they thought sleeping with Ryan was somehow making him better at hockey. That was stupid. Nico was getting better at hockey because he was working hard—even if that hard work was more mental and emotional than he’d ever tell his dad. If anyone should get the credit, it was Nico.

Ryan cleared his throat. “What’s he worried about?”

Nico sighed. It would be easier if he didn’t actually think his father’s heart was in the right place. “That my career won’t go the way I want it to. He’s afraid too much focus on my sexuality will detract from people talking about me as a skilled player. In his very annoying way, he thinks he’s helping.”

“Sometimes people don’t know the best way to help.”

Nico looked at him, his lips quirked. “Tell me about it.” Then he shook his head. “Enough of my whining. Dwelling on my dad’s list of Agent Concerns won’t help anything right now.”

“Wait, your dad is youragent?” Ryan’s brown eyes were wide. “No, sorry, forget that. We are changing the subject. Whatdoyou want to do?”

For a few seconds, Nico stared at him, because his first reaction to the question was… not something he was going to say out loud. A, it would not actually help. B, a conversation with his dad didn’t exactly put him in the mood. Finally he offered, “Chess?”

Ryan grinned. “Figures. The sacrifices I make for you. But if thumping me in a few rounds helps cheer you up… seems like the least I can do.”

“BRO,” TARAsaid when the FaceTime call connected, “you do know that when I talked to you about your serious commitment issues, I was not actually suggesting you shack up with your teammate. Even if he’s a total snack.”

Not for the first time, Ryan regretted sharing genes with her. “It’s not like that, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Tara snorted. “Oh, I know it’s not. But it’s fun to tease you.”

He rolled his eyes and shoved the as-yet-unopenedChess for Dummiesover on the desk so he’d have some more elbow room. “Gee, thanks.” A beat, and then he had to ask in spite of himself, “Wait, what do you mean you know it’s not?” What was she trying to say?

“Ryan, I love you. But there is zero possibility you could be boning someone that hot on the regular and keep your mouth shut about it.”

He didn’t know what to say. If he agreed, he’d be admitting out loud that he wanted to and that Nico was too good for him, and she’d make him talk about his feelings again.

If he disagreed, he’d be a big fat liar.

Fortunately Tara went on. “Anyway, this isn’t why you called. What’s up?”

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