Page 24 of Playing His Game
“Oh, yeah, my brother Ted. He used to work in the oil fields like eight months of the year, but he quit.” Adam knew he’d been lonely and that he hadn’t gotten along with a lot of his coworkers, but he didn’t know what had made him leave. “So he moved back to Nova Scotia and he manages a go-karting business outside Halifax. He’s been trying to get the nerve to ask his girlfriend to marry him for a year, but he’s so stupid for her, he can’t get the words out. Kind of think she’s going to beat him to the punch.”
Finally, he was ready. Even if Mo had refused his sunscreen, at least he’d worn good hiking shoes and a hat, and brought a backpack with his own water. “Anyway. That’s my family. Unless you want me to get into the cousins and aunts and uncles, but I don’t think I brought enough water for that.” Adam’s mom was one of seven kids.
Mo was quiet for a moment longer as Adam closed the hatch and then started toward the trailhead. Then he offered, “That’s the most you’ve ever said to me at one time.”
The most you’ve ever said to me was about your neighbor’s dad teaching you about cars, Adam thought. Which of them had revealed more? “I like my family,” he offered.
Mo snorted. “That makes one of us.”
If Adam had needed the hint to stay away from asking about his parents, that would have been enough. But he’d figured out before that would be a sensitive topic. “You still friends with Sage?”
That brought a smile to Mo’s face. “Of course. Ride or die and all that.”
They found the sign for the trail and followed it to the walking path. There were much harder hikes in the preserve, but the point was something fun and private, not risking a twisting an ankle.
“We went to NYU together. We both got caught up in the idea of college in New York City, you know. East Coast metropolitan life and living out the Hollywood college dream. Dorm life and parties and all that.”
“Of course.”
“So I did the boring degree at Stern, but Sage wanted to tread the boards. Naturally, they got into Tisch and wowed everyone. They’re in London right now, doing Shakespeare. Playing Viola, which is perfect, honestly.”
“Viola… is that the cross-dressing twin?”
“Adam Murphy, you, a sports jock, know Shakespeare?”
“Remember when I said my parents were teachers? Mum was high school English.” She loved a good production. “She liked to show us modern adaptations. She’s the reason I sawShe’s the Manthe first time.”
Mo slowed down so that they could lock gazes and he could smirk. “The first time? Who’s responsible for the other viewings?”
Heat rose into Adam’s cheeks at his accidental slip, but he refused to be embarrassed. “Channing Tatum, obviously.”
“Oh, obviously. So, that your type, then?” Mo said with an eyebrow waggle.
“That your next question?” Adam shot back.
“Nah. I’m more curious to know about actual exes. Not a full list, but anyone serious?”
Adam blew out a breath. “Not really.” Being in the public eye made it hard. “I mean, there have been a few guys who lasted more than a couple of dates, but no one serious enough to meet friends and family.”
“So no one is going to tell me they wished I was more like your ex Joe Perfect?”
Adam snorted. “No. What about you? Anyone going to compare me to your exes?”
“If they do, it’ll be in your favor.”
“Ah.” Adam mulled over his follow-up question. He didn’t want to pry, but also… “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but is there any awful exes I’d be expected to know about?”
“Not unless you meet Sage,” Mo quipped.
“Cryptic.”
“Not really. Sage was the only one to witness my freshman idiocy. I was young and naïve and thought he was as twitterpated as I was.”
Adam suspected there was more to the story, but judging by Mo’s flippant attitude, he wouldn’t get much more from him. Fair enough. If he ever did meet Sage, Adam could push the point then. But since they were apparently a continent away, that didn’t seem likely.
“So… when’s the flight to see Sage’s debut?”
“How do you know I’ve got a flight?” Mo arched an eyebrow, but there was laughter dancing in his eyes.
