5. Cole

If Cole ever got married,he'd probably hire Matthew to plan it. It was a nice day, sure, but the details were what Cole appreciated. Like the fact that the wedding party didn't have to sit at the same long table. Amy got to sit with her wife. Marcus and Nina got to sit together. And Cole was next to Brady.

His lips still held the memory of their kiss. He knew what it was—an exploration for a newly realized queer man. But Cole's focus was currently on his career and making sure Caring Cuisine could grow at a sustainable pace. He wasn't looking for a boyfriend. If a cute boy who was a little hung up on someone else wanted to fool around, that was fine with him.

Dinner was in the conservatory, and the greenhouse windows above them let in the summer sun but also allowed for air-conditioning. Another great planning choice. And though they weren't at the head table, the wedding party got their meals first. There was nothing worse than being at the last table to receive your food, while everyone around you was already eating.

Or maybe Cole was particularly food focused.

"That looks great," Brady said, looking at Cole's plate of salmon. He was right. It did look good. He stuck a tine of his fork into the sauce and wow. He was going to enjoy picking through all those flavors. Brady had chosen the steak.

"Yours looks good, too. Wanna trade bites?" Brady nodded, looking at Cole's plate with as much excitement as he felt himself.

Or maybe they were both starving.

Cole loaded up a good bite with salmon, asparagus, and potato on it and held a cupped hand under it as he guided it to Brady's mouth. Brady accepted the bite, the choreography of it a little clumsy.

"Sorry, wasn't expecting to be fed." Brady laughed, wiping sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry, of course not. I'm used to shoving a spoon into people's mouths."

"Kinky."

"Kitchen things. Though I am not against food in the bedroom."

Brady's tie was loose, his top button unbuttoned, a five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and jaw. He was handsome before Cole got him to laugh, and when he did, Brady lit up. Maybe it was the glass of wine in him, but even when Brady was comfortable, he was still reserved. A little quiet. Cole had expected to be ditched immediately for the other hockey players, but Brady seemed shy around them. Maybe that was why he felt so attached to Blake. Blake was the person he didn't have to be shy around.

Cole wanted to be that person for him, too.

To return the favor, Brady fed Cole a bite right back. His steak was medium rare, and the veggies had a nice caramelization to them. His potatoes were roasted instead of mashed.

"That's fucking great," Cole said, knocking his knee against Brady's under the table. They ate and watched the room, continuing to trade bites. Brady pointed out the people in the crowd he knew, and Cole did the same. The wedding was fewer than one hundred people, and it felt intimate. Cole knew the guest list had been kept short on purpose, out of necessity.

They both agreed on how grateful they were that Matthew's dad didn't show up. But his mom was there with her husband and stepkids. Blake's family was there, as well as some cousins. Brady pointed out the Hockey players from across the league, including a lot of the gay ones, apparently. Cole hadn't realized there were multiple gay hockey players. Cole pointed out the Caring Cuisine staff and volunteers. It wasn't the largest group of people, but Cole knew every person there was rooting for Blake and Matthew.

Even Brady, now. Before, Brady's gaze would slip over to Blake every five minutes. Now he was calmer. He looked at the head table when everyone's attention was drawn to it, and when folks clinked silverware against glasses to request a kiss from the newlyweds, he clanked along.

It was good progress. Cole was happy for him.

They trudged through speeches as servers cleared dinner plates. Marcus and Nina made a very cute joint speech that made Cole leak a few tears. Both moms said sweet things. The couple themselves expressed their gratitude.

Then half the space was converted into a dance floor, and after first dances, as well as mom-and-son dances, Cole dragged Brady onto the floor with him.

Dancing at weddings should be absolutely mandatory. There were few opportunities in life to dance like this, late into the night, with people you cared about, in a weirdly wholesome environment. There were grandparents here, and kids. You could dance at a club anytime, but there were few joys like sharing a multigenerational dance to "Shout."

The dancing started out upbeat and silly, and Cole and Brady both ditched their suit jackets pretty quickly and got drink refills at the open bar. When a group of straight men danced with each other, it was mostly a lot of jumping up and down and shouting song lyrics at each other, and there was plenty of that. But Brady was receptive to how close Cole was dancing to him, and when he got handsy, Brady reciprocated.

The music slowed down like Cole knew it eventually would, and when he went to leave the dance floor, Brady pulled him back. "You're my date, right?" he asked, his husky voice sending shivers to the tips of Cole's toes.

Blake and Matthew were busy disappearing into each other's eyes. Cole was surprised when he looked at Brady to find that he already had Brady's eyes on him. Brady had a warm hand on his lower back and the other hand clasped around one of Cole's. It was an easy sway, nothing fancy, and before they even reached the halfway point of the song, Brady had pulled them flush together.

By the time the song finished, Cole's head was on Brady's shoulder. When the music resumed an upbeat pace, it felt like waking up from a daze. Brady's gaze was dark and sneaky, and if the wedding had been in the hotel ballroom instead of several miles away, Cole would have pulled him toward the elevator.

This wasn't a wedding they could ditch, though. They skipped the electric slide in favor of grabbing waters and cupcakes, then got back out on the dance floor when the mid-2000s pop started coming up.

Every time Cole thought he lost Brady, he was right there, millimeters out of his periphery. They chatted with people at the edge of the dance floor, and there wasn't a single moment where Brady was shy about his public affection, even as curious gazes slid over the two of them. This wedding was a trial run for something, and Cole was proud of him. His own coming out process, even though he'd known he was gay from fairly young, was a long one. There were a lot of factors to weigh. Even in accepting spaces, it could be nerve-racking.

Maybe Brady hadn't had enough time to develop anxiety over it. However things shook out, Cole didn't want him to look back on their night and regret it.

The darkness pressed in from overhead through the glass ceiling, and they danced until Cole's feet ached in his dress shoes. Until the sheen of sweat on Brady's forehead made his perfectly swooped hair droop. Until they reached a point where folks started tapping out. The early shuttle came and took half of the guests back to the hotel. The late-night pizza was brought out, and the only people left celebrating were drunk enough to never want to leave the dance floor.

The last shuttle would come in an hour, and everyone would get kicked out of the venue. Brady filled that hour with purposeful teasing—Hands that slid down to Cole's ass. Hot breath on his neck. A thigh pressed between Cole's legs.

Cole had enough to drink to keep him tipsy, in that bubbly happy place but not messy, and Brady was at the same level.

The small crowd of people left on the dance floor converged, and Matthew pulled Cole away to dance with him. He'd put his long hair in a bun, and he was glowing, his smile maxed out, eyes soft and happy. "Thank you for helping make this day perfect," Matthew said, having to shout a little in Cole's ear. "And it's looking like you're not having a bad time." His eyes darted to Brady, who was dancing with Blake now, much like he would dance with any other teammate, with no attempt to get handsy. Nothing like the way he had been dancing with Cole.

A weird wave of relief hit him.

"Brady is really sweet."

"And it looks like you fixed him."

"I think he experienced some emotional growth. I'm proud of him."

"Then I am, too," Matthew said, uncharacteristically generous. At least as far as Brady came.

When the song ended, Cole had Brady's hand on his lower back again, pulling them back together. Cole kissed Matthew on the cheek so they could both resume dancing with their dates.

As the night wound down, the limo came to take Matthew and Blake to their honeymoon suite for the evening, and everyone else piled into the hotel shuttle. The lights were low, and the shuttle driver had enough music on to keep people partying. Some of the hockey players were arranging an after-party at a bar, and Cole kept waiting for Brady to join in, but he settled against the back of the bench seat they were sharing and put his hand on Cole's thigh, fingertips drumming impatiently.

They kept goodbyes short once the shuttle pulled up in front of their downtown hotel. It was nicer than any hotel Cole had ever been to but was likely on par with the hotels Brady stayed at during the season. Without discussion, they ended up in front of Cole's door. And if Cole had any worries about Brady changing his mind, the way Brady pressed himself tight against his back as he fumbled with his room key dispelled them all. Brady's hands were firm on his hips, lips pressed to his temple, growing erection against his ass.

"Fuck, you are distracting." Cole had been on edge since they'd kissed at the venue, and Brady's current actions weren't helping anything.

"Let me," Brady said, taking the keycard from him and smoothly sliding it into the lock. The door clicked open, and in a blink, they were inside, and Brady pressed him up against the nearest wall.

Earlier, Brady's lips were soft, exploratory, a little tender. Now they were hungry. Brady tipped Cole's chin up with his thumb, his hand warm on Cole's neck. It was possessive, and the whimper that escaped from Cole encouraged him.

Brady's stubble was even more prominent now at nearly midnight, and Cole knew he would wake up tomorrow with beard burn. "This feels so good," Cole said, running his thumb against the grain of Brady's cheek. He felt Brady smile, and he nearly purred when Brady nuzzled their cheeks together.

He dragged a prickly cheek down Cole's neck, and Cole wrapped his arms around Brady's neck to keep him in place. Brady's erection throbbed as Cole's teeth grazed his jaw and tugged on his earlobe. Cole was helpless against the hotel wall. Days ago, Cole could barely imagine this man opening up to him, or even taking his eyes off of Blake. Now, he had Brady's full attention.

"What do you want to accomplish tonight?" Cole asked.

For the first time, Brady paused. "Uh. I'm not sure. I wanna make you come." That husky voice again, a whisper in his ear.

Cole shivered. Brady could undress him just with that voice.

"Well, I'm not going to stop you from doing that."

"And I wanna come."

"Yeah, darling, we'll make sure that happens, too."

The smile on Brady's face wasn't sneaky or predatory. It was…sweet. Brady's hands slid down Cole's waist to his ass, encouraging him to grind on his thigh. His hips moved involuntarily. Matthew had told him about how amazing hockey thighs were, but getting a firsthand demonstration was otherworldly. This man's thighs were tree trunks.

"You're going to make me come too soon. Let's slow down," Cole said, hands reluctantly finding Brady's pecs to put an inch more space between them. "Do you want to move to the bed?"