Page 29 of Scoring Slater
They sat on opposite sides of the bed. He poured Noah's tea and then doctored his own coffee.
Noah had three sips of the brew before the words he wasn't sure how to say spilled out. "How are you feeling about everything now? Has anything changed?"
Slater lowered his mug. He laid his hand on Noah's thigh, the light touch in direct contrast to the intensity swirling in his eyes. "Last night was amazing. This morning was amazing. You're amazing. And I'm glad we get to see where this goes."
The passion in the words both overwhelmed him and calmed his worries. Being like this with Slater was almost surreal. But this was real, and happening. "Me too. I'm a little nervous."
The fingers on his thigh flexed once, then rubbed in soothing circles. "We're venturing into new territory. I'm nervous too. But it's good nerves. Like game day nerves."
"Playoff nerves." He smiled and stroked Slater's hand. Hearing that Slater was nervous too, helped.
"Maybe I should send a photo of this to Allison so I can earn points. I don't think she was impressed by the dinner Max and I ate the other night. She commented on the post with a sad-faced emoji." Slater set his mug down and stood. He glanced around the room, then grabbed his phone from the desk. His eyes widened as he looked at its screen. "What the…"
A ball of trepidation formed in his stomach. Noah grasped his mug with both hands. "What's going on?"
"Where's your phone?"
"Um…" He scanned the room and spotted it by the TV, where he'd set it down before the clothes-shedding portion of the previous evening. "I guess I need it?"
Slater picked it up and handed it over. "Our phones had to be muted before we went on stage last night, so mine has been on silent since then, but damn, this is crazy."
Noah's screen stayed dark. Had he turned it off during the run to the hotel? He pressed the button to restart his phone. Annoyance buzzed on the edge of his nerves. "What's crazy?"
Chimes and pings came one after another from Slater's phone. He'd never heard that many notifications at one time, ever.
"So, a lot of people caught the auction on video." Slater's casual voice didn't fool him. "And some of the videos went viral."
Noah's stomach dropped. His phone was now blowing up with texts and notifications too. "Let me guess, my bidding war was one of them?"
"Yep. And afterward."
He paused in thumbing through the messages. "Afterward?"
Slater angled his phone screen to show the video playing of Noah dragging him out of the room to a chorus of catcalls and whistles.
A tingling sensation swept over him as the video replayed. This couldn't be happening. He rubbed his hands over his impossibly hot face. "Shit."
"Noah. It's fine."
"It's not fine." Over a thousand mentions of his name were in the alert he'd set up, with more coming in by the second. And so many texts. More than just his teammates were messaging him. His parents, his agent, friends in the league, friends outside the league.
And a message from Kelsey:Hey there. You guys are a trending topic. I'm getting tons of calls from all sorts of media outlets that want to interview you. Entertainment magazines and shows, sports talk shows, and more. Give me a call when you get back home so we can discuss.
His breath clogged up in his lungs and his phone slipped from numb fingertips. He gripped his hands together as a wave of dizziness washed over him. This was the craziness of the draft's media storm all over again. Tiny white dots appeared in his vision.
Firm hands closed over his shoulders. Slater knelt before him. "Noah, I need you to breathe. Look at me and breathe."
Concentrating on Slater's blue eyes, he sucked in a breath, then another. The hands on his shoulders rubbed in soothing circles. He could get lost in those eyes. Get lost in Slater.
Concern clouding his gaze, Slater lifted his hand to Noah's cheek. Gentle fingers stroked his stubbled skin. "You with me?"
He leaned into the wide palm and drew in another deep breath. "Yeah."
"Talk to me."
"This is crazy. I can't believe it's happening. Interview requests? TV shows? It's out of control."
"Don't worry about any of that for now." Those fingers resumed their tender strokes. "We can make a statement. Put out something simple saying that we're together. Everyone is asking."
