At his parents’ house, Colette exclaimed over the bump on Adam’s head. Adam leaned against her, eyes sliding shut again, and Colette stroked his hair as she examined the injury and then looked at his eyes.
“Tenny’s right,” she finally declared. “It’s a bump, but I don’t think you have a concussion. Do you want to go to the emergency room?”
“God no,” Adam said flatly. “I just want to lie down for a bit. I’ll be fine, really.”
Etienne followed him upstairs and Adam went not to his room but to the turret with its bigger bed. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out cautiously on top of the covers with a ginger sigh.
“C’mon,” he said, face half-buried in a pillow. He felt the mattress dip as Etienne slid on and gathered Adam close to him, one arm going around his waist. Adam relaxed. “Much better,” he slurred, and fell asleep.
Adam woke Etienne by stretching and rolling on top of him. Etienne, flat on his back, caught Adam’s hips reflexively and blinked sleep out of his eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
Adam hummed appreciatively. “I love how gravelly your voice gets when you first wake up.”
“Answer the question,” Etienne said, fingers tightening on Adam’s hips.
“I’m fine,” Adam said. “Not even a headache. And I’m really, really horny.” He ground his length against Etienne’s abdomen, making him gasp as arousal careened through him.
Still, he pushed it back to peer into Adam’s eyes. “You’re sure?”
In answer, Adam rubbed against him again, the challenge clear in his eyes. Etienne swore and rolled them, pinning Adam beneath him and shoving a hand down his pants.
He jacked him hard and fast, eyes locked on Adam’s the whole time, until Adam was panting and writhing, one leg thrown over Etienne’s hips and silent pleas falling from his mouth.
Etienne drove him to the edge and over it, Adam locking up beneath him as he spilled wet and hot over Etienne’s fist. Then he let go and straddled him, pushing his own pants down and stroking himself until he came with a shudder on Adam’s perfect abs, painting them white as Adam whispered filthy encouragement.
When he settled back into his body, Adam smiled up at him, lazy and replete.
“That was nice,” he murmured.
Etienne kissed him.
“Ready to go skating?” Adam asked.
Etienne jerked his head up. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? I told you I was fine.”
“Adam, you just hit your head, only a few months after sustaining a fairly severe concussion. Are you sure getting on the ice the same day is a good idea?”
Adam scowled. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said mulishly. “I want to skate with you, Tens. You and Eli and the others. I miss being on the ice. Please?”
Etienne swore under his breath. “Let the record show that I am not in favor of this,” he finally said. “But you’re a grown-ass man and I guess you know your own body well enough to know if this is something you can do.”
Adam’s smile was almost enough to wipe away Etienne’s misgivings as he reached up and pulled Etienne down into another kiss.
He liked the Seattle ice, Etienne decided. It felt smooth and sweet beneath his blades, just the right amount of grip. He circled the rink a few times, keeping a sharp eye on Adam, who’d put on a helmet without arguing and was currently warming up by going through a drill Etienne had taught him.
“More weight on your toe in that last corner,” Etienne called.
Adam flipped a hand in acknowledgment and did it again, this time flawlessly, as the others stepped out onto the ice.
“Two-on-two, Eli in goal?” Daved asked Etienne.
“Sounds good to me. Adam!”
Adam sheared off his circle and skidded to a halt beside Etienne, spraying him with ice. He grinned when Etienne glowered at him.
“Two-on-two,” Etienne said. “You up for it?”
Adam’s grin turned hungry. “Let’s do this.”
Etienne forgot his concern in the sheer joy of the ice beneath his blades, the wind whistling in his ears as he and Adam passed the puck back and forth between them, keeping it away from Morgan and Daved in an effortless give-and-take down the ice. As they neared the goal, Eli crouching in front of it in all his gear, Etienne faked right and sent the puck to Adam on a drop pass. Adam caught it on the backhand and sank it behind Eli’s left knee.
Etienne frowned, circling behind the net. He’d expected Adam to catch it on the forehand and put it top shelf—but Adam collided with him just then, whooping like he’d won the Stanley Cup, and Etienne laughed, hugging him back.
Five goals later, Daved called a halt, gasping for breath.
“Time-out,” he panted. “It’s like you fuckers are mind-melded or something.”
Adam skated a lazy circle around Daved’s lanky form. “When you’ve got it, you’ve got it, Davvy my boy.”
Daved pulled off a glove and gave him the finger.
“Now, now,” Etienne said mildly. “Don’t make him feel worse about himself, Adam. It’s not his fault he can’t keep up.”
“No, that’s my fault,” William said, stepping out onto the ice. Both Morgan and Daved stiffened.
“Hi Dad!” Adam chirped.
William fixed Morgan and Daved with a steely gaze. “Tenny here isn’t even NHL yet and he’s making you look like you’re playing junior hockey. What happened to the conditioning drills I made you do? You forget how to play a decent defensive line?”
“Coach,” Morgan protested, “did you see the way they move? It’s like Tenny knows where Cary’s going to be six moves ahead of time, and Cary sends the puck to him without even looking and Tenny puts it home, it’s not natural.”
“It’s called teamwork,” William said. “Something I thought I’d taught you.”
Etienne grinned at Adam, who returned it.
“Come on,” William continued. “Three-on-two, maybe we can beat them.”
Adam banged his stick on the ice. “Bring it, old man!”
They returned to the house sweaty and laughing, pleasantly exhausted. Colette inspected Adam’s head again but pronounced him in no danger, prompting Adam to stick his tongue out at Etienne.
“How’s your vision?” Etienne asked him later, when they had a moment alone. Was it his imagination or did Adam stiffen?
“It’s fine,” Adam said lightly. He batted Etienne’s hand away when he tried to hold up a finger. “Not doing this right now, Tenny.” He looked up, into Etienne’s eyes, and his voice softened. “I really am fine. I swear.”
Etienne wasn’t convinced but he let it go, dropping a quick kiss on Adam’s forehead. “Ready for the rehearsal dinner?”
“As long as there’s food.” Adam brightened. “Do you think there’ll be donuts?”
“You’d come back from the dead if there were donuts, wouldn’t you?” Etienne said, laughing.
Adam wrinkled his nose. “Duh. Donuts. Come on, let’s go see what Mom’s making.”