Page 11 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

ELEVEN

KTYTOR

H e goes to bed after asking me if I regret kissing him. Either he’s fucking clueless or doesn’t actually have any game. Probably the latter, as people just throw themselves at hockey players.

Whatever. I pick up my book, but it isn’t holding my interest anymore.

I glance over at Seaborn and find him snoring lightly.

I realize I don’t know his first name. A quick Google search tells me: Ronan Seaborn.

It tastes weird on my tongue, and I can’t decide if it fits him.

Part of me wants to say it to see what he’ll do.

But I let him alone and lay down. It takes me ages to fall asleep. My mind isn’t here. It’s home with my brother. It’s praying to the gods that our futures are bright.

Consciousness comes in sparks, in soft morning sounds, in the creaks of the building, in the gentle breeze filtering through air vents.

In breaths, but not my own. And then I come fully awake, remembering who’s in the bed beside me.

He’s close, closer than when we fell asleep.

The heat of his skin radiating off him, but it’s more than that.

His scent is there, too. All over the sheets.

He smells like the summer, sun on skin mixed with the spray of the ocean.

It’s not just warmth from his body; it’s warmth in every aspect of him.

I slide my fingers across the sheet, wanting to touch, but I retract my hand at the last second.

The sun isn’t up yet, and I already need to escape this delusion.

I don’t know why I even thought having him in my room was a good idea.

I rub my eyes and glance at him again. He’s peaceful, and my resolve sets in.

I carefully get out of bed, grab a tee, and shove my feet in slides. I pocket my phone, cigs, and my key card and leave. I light a smoke as soon as I’m outside and check my notifications. A bunch of crap on apps, and I clear them all. I open Snap and see if Seaborn looked at my stories.

He hasn’t. I’d been with him most of yesterday.

I don’t know why I’d think he would. I turn off my phone and shove it in my pocket before holding my hand out.

It’s drizzling. The world smells fresh with it.

What is the fucking point in having a bad day when the universe is promising rebirth? There isn’t.

And there is a reason I don’t get involved with anyone. It makes people lose their fucking heads.

“Why the fuck are you up?” Seaborn pulls a pillow over his face when I get back to the room.

“I’m always up.”

“You never sleep in?”

I shrug. “Can’t. I’m used to getting up for hockey, and before hockey, it was chores before school.” It doesn’t bother me. I’m used to everyone finding it weird. Actually, most people find everything about me weird. I can’t bring myself to care.

“Shit. I wish. It would make my life a lot easier.” He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. His cuteness annoys me.

Yesterday, I might have found it endearing, but today, I want to hit him in the face. “I’m going to use the hot tub.”

“What? How are you doing that?”

“I asked them.” I’m not sure what he’s expecting. “It’s not hard.”

Seaborn shakes his head, hair a mess. “I’ll come with you. My ass is still sore.”

“You bruised?”

He tugs down the back of his sweats without warning. “You tell me. I haven’t looked.”

I keep my gaze locked on his but finally let it drop to the skin he’s revealed. It’s bruised but not badly. “Looks like shit. Put some ice on it.”

He’s fucking about while I grab my stuff and leave again. If I’m up, I might as well be using the day. I don’t have time to waste.

I wait for the bus and smoke another cig while texting my brother.

He’ll be getting out of school soon, and I want to catch him before I’m in training for the day.

The bus pulls up, and I greet the driver.

He’s Slavic, and we trade a couple of words and laugh.

It’s nice to hear a familiar accent, but it makes me miss home.

Before the driver closes the doors, another guy slips in.

I turn to find Seaborn. “What are you doing?”

“You told me I should ice my…bruise.” He grins, shouldering by me.

“I wasn’t aware you could actually listen, cupcake.” I sit across from him, and we ride to the facility in silence.

We get to the facility, and some guys are milling around, eating and doing their offseason workouts or rehabbing. We head to the locker room and drop our stuff.

I grab a towel and strip down to my shorts. Seaborn does the same. This feels like a standoff. A shift. I can’t tell if our truce is holding. “You going to stand there all day or get your ass looked at?”

“I think I’m going in the cold tub.” Seaborn grabs himself a towel and walks off.

I don’t want it to seem like I’m following him, but the hot tub is in the same area, and I’m not going to fail to be at the top of my game because of him.

I walk past, not making eye contact, but he’s got a trainer looking at his ass anyway.

I can’t help but glance at the bruise again as I sink into the hot tub.

He’s got quite the ass on him, which probably saved his tailbone.

I avert my eyes when the trainer signs off on him going in the cold tub. We’re alone again in another minute.

“Fuck, this is cold.” His teeth chatter.

“You’ve barely been in there thirty seconds.”

“I don’t see you in here.”

“Is not that difficult, cherry baby.”

“If it’s not that hard, you get in.” Seaborn dares me.

“I’ve been in a hot tub. Is much harder going from hot to cold.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“Aren’t you tired?” I climb out of the tub and cross the tiled floor.

“Tired of what?”

“Being insufferable. Has got to be exhausting for you, no?” I hook my leg over the edge. The tub isn’t big, so we’re going to have to be close to both fit. I push it, forcing myself into the ice cold water right next to him.

He stifles a growl. “As long as it’s pissing you off, it fuels me.”

I snap my teeth. “See. Hot to cold. No problem.”

“That’s because you’re from the fucking tundra and probably cold-blooded.”

“Are you making excuses for why I’m better than you next season already?”

He rolls his eyes. “Never gonna happen. You can’t even out skate me when I’m injured.”

“Maybe you should consider taking better care of yourself so I can see it for myself.”

Seaborn flips me off and stands up, getting out of the tub. He goes right to the hot one and puts his feet in.

“You’re going to make your bruise worse.”

“I need to warm up before I get on the ice.”

“Okay, princess, warm up. But is bad for your ass.”

“I don’t think you know what’s good for my ass.”

I raise my brows. “If you want help with it…I can offer my assistance.”

His upper lip curls. “I think the trainer has it.”

“If you’re sure.” I make a point of staying in the cold longer than he did.

He’s out of the heat, avoiding me again by the time I’m done. I do the same, getting a roller to work out some knots.

The truce holds. We aren’t at each other’s throats, but it’s not like it was yesterday. I try to ignore it, but it’s driving me crazy. None of my usual ribbing works, and frustration burns into annoyance.

When we’re done for the day and go back to the locker room to grab our stuff and shower, he doesn’t. Instead, he strips his shirt off and heads to the steam room.

I hesitate, then strip off all my clothes, wrap a towel around my waist, and follow. I can’t see him when I enter. The steam is too thick. I open my mouth to say his name but stop myself. I have no idea who else could be in here.

I venture deeper blindly, finding my way to one of the benches then moving deeper along it. Finally, feet come into view, and I’d know those slides anywhere. He’s in the back corner, and I’m pretty confident no one else is in here, so I sit right next to him.

“What’s your problem, peach?”

He visibly stiffens. “Why did you follow me in here?”

“Because I wanted to see if this is what keeps your skin so delicate and baby soft, sunshine.”

He scoffs. “It’s good for my muscles. Do you do anything positive to maintain your body? You know, you won’t be young forever.”

“I don’t need to do anything. Ukrainians are as stubborn as beasts. Is always been this way.” We weren’t given opportunities like people here. We had to fight tooth and nail for everything.

“When an injury takes you out, I’m not going to feel bad.”

“I don’t need a nursemaid for my bedside, booboo.” I don’t think he’s offering, but I can’t help myself. I don’t need anything from anyone.

“What do you need?” His question catches me off guard.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Just the truce?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you care if we are friendly? The truce held all day, and you’re still here. Why?” He’s got me there. I walked right into his trap.

“You’re also sleeping in my room.” I know it’s a bad excuse, but I’m having a hard time coming up with an answer, truth or not.

“I can go home. Not ideal, but I can be out of your hair…” This motherfucker knows what he’s doing. Does he want me to beg him? I won’t.

“And fuck yourself in the process? What good would that do anyone?”

“Then what is it?” he’s not giving up.

“I’m not getting to you today. Why?”

“You think I’m going to answer your questions when you don’t answer mine? Fuck off.” Seaborn crosses his arms.

“What do you want me to say? I don’t know why it’s bothering me, but it is. Are you happy?” I exhale the words in one breath like if I say them faster, they’ll count less…or something equally as asinine.

“I don’t know what I want you to say.” He’s quiet, but when I open my mouth to ask my question again, he goes on, “You were getting to me. I just controlled myself better.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

He nods.

“Asshole.” My word brings out a smile.

“It got you to talk, didn’t it?” Glee shines in his eyes.

“Do you want to fight again? We have a truce.” I don’t know why he gets so far under my skin. I should just let him do his thing, but I can’t let it go.

“I was leaving you alone. You’re the one pushing my buttons and who followed me in here.” He’s burying me in logic, and I hate it. “You could have left it.”

“You’re just making me want to hit you more,” I say through my teeth.

“Hit me or kiss me?”