Page 50 of Bro Code

That night, Louis sat beside Holly on the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the tablet screen. He wasn’t even bothering to keep track of everyone’s dot: he was only watching Riley.

He was warming up at center ice with Harris. Louis checked his heart rate and breathing. He’d noticed a weird vibe between Liam and Riley, and really hoped it wasn’t becoming a thing. It was one thing for Riley to be scared of guys on the opposing team. It would be a much bigger problem if he was scared of his own defenseman.

Plus it would make double dates with Liam and Nic extremely tricky.

Not that Louis had imagined him and Riley going on double dates with Nic and Liam. They weren’t dating. They weren’t even going on dates. They weren’t–

Bon sang, Louis, focus on the game!

Warmups ended and the teams went back to the locker rooms to put on their game jerseys. They came back out, stood for the anthem, and then Louis watched Riley’s dot loop toward the face-off circle. He held his breath.

On the tablet, Riley’s heart rate was creeping up as he stepped into the circle. Louis watched it, shaking his head. “Come on, Riley,” he murmured. “Don’t get in your head.”

The linesman’s dot moved into the circle with the puck and the arena hushed, waiting for the drop. There was a moment of absolute silence.

Then, like a thunderclap exploding through the arena, Louis heard: CRACK!

His head snapped up. Riley sank into position, and the puck dropped. Riley lunged. He snatched it from the middle of the circle and snapped it down the ice.

Montreal had won the face-off!

“Allez!” Louis was so excited he leapt off his stool and actually punched the air. It fucking worked! He couldn’t believe it. He looked around for someone to celebrate with, and found himself face to face with Holly.

His heart went into momentary panic – but there was nothing wrong with being excited. Holly didn’t know the reason Riley had won the face-off was because of Louis’ secret hack.

He grinned, shrugging. “Bonne début!”

Holly, with her arms folded and her mouth in its usual hard line, just nodded and turned back to the ice.

They won four-three. The rest of Riley’s game was shaky, but Louis didn’t care. He’d won the face-off. That was progress.

Afterward, Louis ran the usual scripts, then packed up and headed out of the press box. He didn’t see Riley in the tunnel, and felt a small stab of disappointment. He thought about hanging around to wait for him – but that might have looked suspicious.

He went back to the hotel and was keying himself into his room when his phone buzzed. His stomach dipped with familiar anxiety: Chloé. He left the phone in his pocket while he stripped off his bag and coat and stepped out of his shoes. Then, steeling himself, he sat on the edge of the bed and swiped it open.

It worked. Not bad, nerd.

Riley. His heart skipped. Smiling, he typed, Not bad yourself.

He was about to send it when a wicked idea popped into his head. He deleted everything, and instead sent, Emergency. Need to show you something.

Reply dots. Then a question mark.

Just come to my room, Louis sent. ASAP.

Setting the phone on the nightstand, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched the door. Less than a minute later, there was pounding on the other side. When he opened it, Riley was there in a Henley and sweats, panting.

He searched Louis’ face. “What happened? Did Holly find out?”

Louis’ mouth tugged into a grin as he lifted one shoulder. “Nope. I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh fuck’s sake.” Riley bent double, gasping. “You asshole, you said it was an emergency!”

“It is an emergency,” said Louis. He leaned out into the hall and looked left and right, then pulled him into the room.

Riley came, stumbling, hands already grasping at Louis’ shirt, pulling it over his head. As though the adrenaline of the game was still coursing through him, or maybe just the same excitement Louis felt: their plan was working. They’d done something tonight. Together.

Their mouths crashed into each other as Riley threw Louis’ shirt aside, kicking the door shut behind him. Louis’ hand went directly into Riley’s waistband as Riley backed him across the room toward the bed. He cupped Riley’s balls, squeezing them, feeling the weight. Riley swore into his mouth, hands gripping his ass, lips rough and insistent, tongue finding Louis’ teeth, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, and Louis bent to every demanding thrust, as though Riley was steering him with that.