Page 16 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

SIXTEEN

SEABORN

Four months later

I miss him and I’m absolutely dreading our game against the Monsters next week.

Ktytor and I haven’t said a word to each other since whatever that was that happened at camp but I’ve thought about him since. I don’t know why I didn’t reach out, but with every day that passed, the idea got more awkward. Maybe that’s all he wanted it to be.

He didn’t say anything, so why should I?

But it’s been a total mind fuck, and I still don’t have my head on straight.

I tried to convince myself it was nothing, but keep oscillating between wanting his lips around my dick again and telling myself I’m not gay.

I fucked women for years before he and I hooked up just fine, but then why didn’t I sleep with anyone else the rest of the summer?

Work had me pretty exhausted, and maybe I was processing. But I’ve been back at school for a month and still not slept with anyone? What is wrong with me? I need to get back on the horse.It’s time to forget about Ktytor.

I look at his Snap but he hasn’t updated it today.

I walk out of my room and find Wolfe and Archangel whisper yelling in the living room. “Is everything okay?”

They both jump back and look guilty. Well, that’s fucking weird.

“Perfectly fine.” Wolfe runs a hand through his hair. “You?”

Archangel crosses his arms.

I ignore it. I don’t have the bandwidth to ask them what’s going on. “I need to get laid.”

“Wow. It’s about time. We were wondering if you had like a secret girlfriend.” Wolfe elbows Archangel. “Right?”

“Real. It was getting weird since you’ve been here every night alone.”

I cringe but keep it off my face. “Just busy and stressed with the stuff with my dad and school.” Which sounds dumb after I say it since we are all seniors and have a pretty easy schedule. Saying the season and going into the draft would have been more believable. But they don’t question it.

“We’re glad to have you back. We were just talking about having a party, weren’t we?” Wolfe says to Archangel.

Archangel scowls. “I told him I don’t want to clean beer out of the carpet this weekend.”

“We can just go out.” I don’t have much cash to spare, but to get Ktytor out of my head, I’m willing to spend a little.

“Fine. We’ll go out,” Wolfe says, looking Archangel right in the eyes.

“Whatever. I’ll get the vodka to pre-game.” Archangel spins on his heel and saunters out.

“You two…” I want to say ‘okay,’ but it doesn’t feel like the right word.

Wolfe hesitates but then says, “We’re fine. It’s just shit with his family.”

“We don’t have to go out if he’s not up for it.” I could do it myself. Wingmen make everything easier, but I’ll get this out of my system one way or another.

“Nah, it might be good for him to forget for a night.” Wolfe lifts a shoulder.

Archangel comes back with three glasses and a bottle of vodka from the freezer. He pours us all drinks. “What do you think of the freshmen?”

“There are a couple who will be good. What do you think?”

“I’m not mad Godfrey decided to play here instead of Summerset,” Wolfe says thoughtfully.

“No shit,” Archangel agrees. “I’d rather him be on our side than have to defend him.”

“True. We should do well against the Olympians this year, but I don’t know what we’re going to do about the Monsters,” I say, trying not to think about Ktytor. But any hockey talk is going to bring him back to my mind.

“You got a pretty good lock on Kitar?—”

I cut Archangel off. “Ktytor. Kai-tea-tor. It’s not that hard.”

They both stare then they burst out laughing.

“Don’t fucking start.” I hold out my hand. “Give me the vodka. I’m too sober to deal with you two.”

Archangel passes the bottle over. “If you find another girl that looks like him…”

“I’ve never seen hockey get into a man’s brain so badly he needed to bed down the enemy.”

I hold up a middle finger as my cheeks heat. If they only fucking knew the half of it. “Fuck both of you.”

“He’s even blushing!” Wolfe falls off the couch.

“I hate you both.” I refill my glass, way too sober to be called out like this, so I pour the liquid down my throat.

“Woah there, cowboy. Slow down.” Archangel grabs the bottle back. “Not even gonna mix it with anything?”

He holds out the Sprite, but I shrug. Archangel pours some into my glass anyway, then adds some more vodka. I stir it with my pinky.

My buzz is good, and we find a bar filled with women. My night is turning around. I’m just getting a cute redhead to smile in that way that I know means she’s interested when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Who the fuck is calling me? My stomach fills with dread. Maybe something is up with my dad.

I excuse myself and pull my phone out.

Ktytor calling.

What the actual fuck.

“Hello?”

“I see you.”

“What are you talking about?” This has to be another game.

“I see you,” Ktytor says again in his fucking insufferable yet hot accent.

“Is this like scary movie foreplay? We’ve graduated from beating the shit out of each other, so now you need something new to get your rocks off?”

“Maybe you should turn around and find out.”

“If you’re standing behind me with a knife…” I turn.

He’s standing right behind me, and he hangs up the phone. “If that turns you on… next time, cupcake.”

I give him a flat look. “Are you stalking me?”

“I can’t feed your ego like that. You’d like it too much.” He air kisses.

I sigh and ask again, “Why are you here?”

“A game. Why else? You don’t have games this weekend?” He must have played the Olympians.

Fuck.

“Not until next week.” I didn’t know they started a week before us this season, and I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does. Like he might get some extra edge playing one more game.

His lips twist into a smirk. “And we’re your second game next weekend.”

“Yes.” I pull at my t-shirt, suddenly warm. I seem to be having no effect on him, and I hate it. “What do you want?”

He glances around to make sure no one is paying attention to us, then whispers. “To see if you missed me.”

A spark runs down my spine. “Been thinking about me so much you have to stop your celebrating to ask?”

His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t let it reach his expression. “Is part of my celebration thinking of how I’m going to own you next week.”

I put on an easy smile, loving that I’m getting to him for once. “Are you sure about that? You forget I can keep up with you now, and we trained together. I know your tricks, Ktytor.”

“Why don’t we make it a wager?”

I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyway. “What are we wagering?”

“If I win, you do what I say.”

“And if I win?”

“Same goes.” He offers his hand.

I take it before I can think twice about it. We shake, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, he pulls me closer, putting his lips next to my ear.

“Don’t lose on purpose just to get me inside you. You can ask me nicely to fuck you either way, princess.” He squeezes my hand.

I tighten my grip and we both pull. “You don’t have to pretend. I know what you really want,” I say into his jaw.

He stiffens and leans back enough to look into my eyes. “Are you going to fight me for that too, sweetheart?”

“If that’s what turns you on, baby.” I’m starting to lose feeling in my hand, but I don’t stop.

He exhales sharply, then releases, shoving me back. “It doesn’t matter. Say whatever you want. You’re not going to win.”

“I’ve gotten to you.” Glee colors my tone, and I make sure he can hear it.

It does exactly what I want it to do and makes him madder.

Rage boils through his mannerisms, but he gets it under control quickly. “Think whatever you want. You’ll see next week, sweetheart.”