Page 21 of One-Time Shot
“Yep.” Jett chomped on another fry, a wry smile tilting the corner of his full lips. “I’ll shoot pucks, do sprints, and help you get your data, but…I got a problem of my own. I need a diversion, and you’re it.”
Still staring.
“Excuse me?”
“I won’t bore you with details, but I’m way too in my head lately. My friends think I should relax and party more. My agent thinks I should try yoga. My dad implies that nothing really matters because he’s got my future figured out. Well, I’ve done my share of partying, yoga sounds boring as fuck, and I’m not ready or willing to give up on hockey. I can’t fuck up my final season. I need to stay focused without overdoing it. I know this might sound a little wacky, but I think things happen for a reason. Maybe our paths were supposed to cross because this experiment is important. If we’re going to do it correctly, I’ll have to teach you hockey.”
More staring.
Oh, wow. He wasn’t joking.
“I don’t want to be a hockey student.”
“Don’t overthink this, Maloney. All I’m saying is that I want to be involved in this thesis of yours. Make sure you get all the background information you need. We’ll be helping each other.”
I frowned. “If you recall, I only require three twenty-minute data-gathering sessions. How is that helpful to you?”
“It’s a start.” Jett piled his plates and pushed them to the end of the table. “We’ll probably need more time. Maybe a month.”
“A month!” I yelped, darting my gaze around before lowering my voice. “A month of what, exactly?”
“Hockey.”
His matter-of-fact delivery was almost comical. I wasn’t sure what the joke was, though. This was all very…confusing. And what had he meant about our paths crossing? I’d literally pursued the heck out of him.
I blinked in dismay. “At the risk of repeating myself…I don’t want to study hockey.”
“We got a problem, then, Maloney,” he singsonged. “ ’Cause I don’t want to do hockey for science if it’s not done right. I don’t think Finkfart will want crappy data either. Just sayin’.”
I gasped. “This sounds like an ultimatum.”
Jett scratched his temple and shrugged. “Huh. I ’spose it does. What do you think?”
“I think this is…maddening,” I hissed, leaning across the table. “I’ve pursued your acquaintance for weeks on end?—”
“Stalked.”
“And now you’re proposing to tutorme. Me! I’m a graduate student, you know. I have a degree and qualifications and…and…” I glowered, willing my brain to slow down.
“I get it. You’re smarter than me.” He held his hands up in surrender. “But not about hockey. No obligation, Maloney. Just think about it.”
I gritted my teeth as he waved our waitress over.
“There’s nothing to think about. Time is of the essence, and you don’t leave me much choice. I accept your dastardly offer.” I slipped my credit card out, but Jett gave his directly to Shar.
Jett grinned like a madman. “Cool. We should concentrate on terminology first. You can give your notebook a workout before we hit the rink. See you tomorrow?”
“I’m busy Thursdays.”
“That’s right. Friday works, but…only if you can meet at noon. No, never mind. I have a game that night,” he said. “Hey, you should come.”
I furrowed my brow. “To your game?”
“Yeah, it would be a great way to get a feel for the action in person. I’ll text you the details.”
“I…” I pushed at my glasses and shook my head. “I might have plans.”
“Hmph. Look at it like a field trip. If you really want to know about a subject, you should examine it from all angles, right?”