Two-Man Team (Stick Side, #5)
by: Amy Aislin
Series: Stick Side
Genre: Gay Sports Romance
Release Date: October 20, 2021
Rory Stanton is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and doesn’t need his brother’s best friend keeping an eye on him. Sure, he likes having Kris’s attention, but he’d rather have it for entirely different reasons. Too bad that one kiss they shared wasn’t enough to convince Kris to take a chance on him.
When an injury lands Rory in Kris’s care, will these teammates be able to see past the obstacles to become a two-man team?
Rory was surely here because Emery had asked him to come, but Kris didn’t give two shits about his motivations. As long as Rory fed him, the man could come by anytime he wanted.
“You look like you need this.” Rory set Kris’s plate at his elbow. “And about twelve hours of sleep.”
“You’re not wrong. Thanks for this.” Closing the laptop, Kris shoved it aside and brought his food closer.
“Maybe stay away from fast food breakfast sandwiches in the future.” Rory wrinkled his nose. “That thing looked like poison.”
Kris chuckled and shoved half a toast in his mouth, not bothering with jam.
Rory Stanton was one of those cute as button types. High forehead, small nose, big brown eyes. In Rory’s downtime, those big eyes were usually covered with glasses. Today, he wore his contacts, which meant he’d been outdoors. He’d complained, more than once, about the annoyance of changing from prescription glasses to prescription sunglasses and back whenever he went from indoors to outdoors to indoors again. He always seemed to smell like sunshine and grass, and his dark brown hair was constantly in a state of dishevelment.
“You got a bit of a burn on your nose,” Kris said, pointing his fork at him.
“Damn.” Rory’s eyes crossed. “I do? Didn’t think I’d need sunscreen for an hour of street hockey this late in September. Ah well.” Unconcerned, he dug into his meal.
Kris stood, retrieved the ketchup from the fridge, and proceeded to smother his eggs in it.
Rory stared at him. “God, you’re disgusting.”
“Ketchup brings me joy.”
For some reason, Rory thought that was hysterical and he dissolved into snorted, hiccupy giggles. The same kind that had left Rory a snorting, laughing mess at last year’s Christmas party.
The same night he’d kissed Kris.
If Kris had thought about that sloppy, back-of-an-Uber kiss more than once in the intervening months, well . . . it wasn’t Kris’s fault. Despite tasting like a barroom floor, that kiss had awoken something in him. Not feelings. More of an awareness of Rory as something other than Kris’s best friend’s little brother. An awareness of Rory as a fully grown man.
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