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The sun was beating down on his back, sweat dripping down it – heat and exercise combined – to the point where his shirt had started to cling to his skin uncomfortably, and he’d opted to just remove it. His mind was in overdrive, yet surprisingly focused as he jogged back to his building, burning with anticipation and nerves. Anxiety crawled through his gut and tugged at it, hadn’t let go of it for all of January. They were doing bad this month. The season had started so well, and while they’d broken their losing streak last week, every new loss threatened to shake his foundations.
So preoccupied with the match of that night, Gray nearly ran into an equally sweaty man at the end of a sofa; a gruff comment was made as the man carried the sofa into the house attached to the one he shared with Tanner, and Gray watched with a blink. For a moment, he thought about letting it be what it was – he needed a shower, and he was far too sweaty to meet anyone new, let alone a neighbour he might or might not have to deal with for a while. First impressions were always the ones that stuck, weren’t they?
A rather authoritative voice ran out from the house, orders to movers about what and where, and Gray still hadn’t moved. Curiosity gave him a reprieve from the swirling mess of negative tension the near future would bring – and then the source of the bossiness stepped out of the townhouse. For a second time, Gray blinked, at what he wanted to guess was the shortest guy in recorded history with – somehow – the presence of a giant. “Hey,” he said with a grin before he could really stop himself, wiping his hands on the shirt he was holding, before stuffing it in the waistband of his athletic pants, and held out a hand. “You’re moving in? I’m Gray, hey.”
