Page 9 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

NINE

KTYTOR

H e’s true to his word and keeps it to one drink.

He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve never had an issue getting people to open up to me, but Seaborn is impossible.

He’s not avoiding me, but he is making friends with everyone else in our group and the other we get partnered with.

He’s the life of the practice, funny and playful. Why is he such a grumpy dick for me?

He’s making himself stand out as a team player and as a guy everyone likes.

I’ve never been good at those things. My team likes me, but I work harder than they do, and they know it.

People don’t like to be made to look lazy, and someone working harder than them brings out those feelings.

I’ve never let it be my problem. But now I’m seeing the error in my ways.

How can I compete with the guy everyone likes?

Teams want the best, but they don’t want a guy with a bad attitude who can’t play nice with others.

On the third day of this likable guy thing, I come up with a plan. Even though a walk is the last fucking thing I want, I put my trainers back on and wait outside. About five minutes later, he comes out, and I drop my cigarette.

“Hey.”

He nods, then turns away from me to begin his walk.

Fuck. I don’t know why I thought he’d stop. “Wait up.”

He glances over his shoulder. “What?”

“I want to walk with you.” I jog to catch up despite my legs protesting.

“Why?” He doesn’t stop his power walk.

“Is doing something good for you, no?”

“Take your own walk.” He barely glances at me.

“You’re the life of the group every day. You don’t want company?”

Seaborn shakes his head. “This is my time. I’d prefer to do it alone.”

I didn’t expect him to put up this much of a protest. I need to switch tactics. “You watched me shower again today.”

His head snaps to the side. “You keep standing in front of me. It’s impossible not to see you.”

“I see you avert your eyes plenty from every other guy in the showers. Why not look at them? There are some nice bodies in there,” I say casually, even though it’s not.

“I’m not into men. I don’t care to look at them.” It’s almost like he’s giving me a compliment.

“Not at all?” I ask, surprised by the omission.

He lifts a shoulder but doesn’t reply.

“I’m surprised.”

“Do I seem like…”

“What? Gay?” I ask pointedly. If he’s about to be homophobic, we’re going to fight.

“Not like that,” he growls.

“How did you mean it then?” I push.

“Just that. Do I seem like I’d be into guys?” He shrugs, and I realize it isn’t malice. He might not actually know how anyone else sees him.

“No, you seem like one of those—what’s the American word for it—jock bros.” It’s part of the reason I never liked his smug ass face.

He scoffs. “You know nothing about me.”

“Is the attitude and, if I’m honest, the hair cut.”

He rubs a hand through his short hair. “Fuck off. My aunt cuts my hair. She isn’t a goddamn barber. It’s covered by a helmet, and I don’t care if it looks bad. Girls like it well enough.”

I’m surprised again. I didn’t expect him to be the type who’d have his aunt cut his hair. It’s cute. “I wasn’t insulting you. Is not unattractive.”

“You clearly don’t have an issue with it,” Seaborn throws back.

“Never said I did. You just look like a straight man.”

“And what about you?” he asks.

“You tell me.” I side-eye him.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.” He hesitates, then goes on. “You do that a lot?”

“What?”

“Pick a fight, then jump the guy after fucking up his face.” He stops, actually looking at me. The pink line of a scar I put on his nose makes its own point.

“No. Can’t say I ever have before.”

“So what then?” he asks.

I know what he means, but I question it anyway. “What?”

“Are you into men?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have time for those things.”

He blinks. “For what things?”

“Dating. Drama.”

“Why not? We aren’t in hockey twenty-four-seven.”

“I have to do everything in another language, which takes my brain time, and aside from that, I don’t want distraction. I have goals. When I meet them, I will have time.”I don’t know why I’m explaining it to him.

He considers my words. “So you just hook up?”

I shake my head. “No. I told you, I don’t have time for drama. That creates drama.”

Seaborn stares at me like I have three heads. “You don’t get laid?”

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re asking.”

He clearly feels bad about it, but that doesn’t stop his line of questioning. “Guy or girl?”

“A woman but not since I came here. Why?”

Seaborn glances at his feet. “Why me?”

“I don’t fucking know.” I admit. “It wasn’t really a choice so much as I wanted to rearrange your face and then we were kissing.”

“Fair. I guess that’s where I’m at, too.”

I’m glad we are talking about it. It’s good to know I’m not crazy—he has made me feel fucking crazy. “But with a man?”

He shakes his head, lifting his hands. “I’m as surprised as you seem to be.”

We both fall into silence.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not a thing…right?” he asks after awhile.

“Right.” But is that really what I want? I don’t know anymore, and I don’t like not knowing. I have my life all figured out. “Where are we walking?”

“I usually walk to the park up here.”

I nod for him to continue.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks both ways before crossing the street.

I keep pace easier now that he’s slowed down.

We walk under an archway into a fully walled-off garden and are transported to another world.

The city can only barely be seen behind the trees lining the walls.

Inside is a path through a mass of flowers, all colors, shapes, and sizes. I’ve never seen some of them before.

“How did you know this was here?” I say in awe.

“I found it looking for places to walk.” He takes one of the winding paths, and we walk falling back into silence while the sun gets lower in the sky.

It’s one of those perfect summer days with a breeze and the temperature just right. The fragrance of the flowers adds to the spirituality of it, and I think I understand why he does this. I’m lighter with it. It’s a nice way to decompress after the stress and high activity of the day.

I don’t give him enough credit.

“I feel better.” Maybe I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right, but if I’m going to figure out his ways, I need to stroke his ego a little. “Your walk idea isn’t such a bad one.”

Seaborn glances over, and for a minute, I don’t think he’s going to reply, but he says, “It’s good to work out all the lactic acid from your muscles and decompress.”

“I said you were right.”

He gets a hint of a smile. “I’m full of good ideas.”

We chat about the day as we walk back to the hotel. It’s nearly dark by the time we get there, but he stops outside.

“Aren’t you coming in?” I ask when he doesn’t move.

“Nah. I need to head home.”

“What? Why?” I demand like he owes me fucking anything. He can’t be throwing away this big an opportunity.

“Because I can’t afford to stay at the hotel, and we are only allowed to have a team pay for seventy-two hours. The rest is on us.”

“You’re just leaving and not finishing the camp?”

“No, I’ll be back in the morning.” He can’t be serious.

“Where is home?” I get in front of him.

He says some town name I don’t know.

“How far is that?”

He shrugs, being avoidant.

I get out my phone. “You can’t get all the way home and then come back in the fucking morning. You’ll be dead.”

Has he lost his fucking mind?

“I don’t have any other choice. I can’t afford it.”

“No one follows those rules. The team will pay.”

“I can’t risk it.” Seaborn shakes his head.

“The NCAA goes on fucking holiday in the summer. Calm down.” I try to grab his arm, but he pulls back.

“It’s not worth the risk.”

“Nothing has ever happened to anyone.” I don’t know why I’m trying to convince him to stay.

He’s only going to make himself look bad. “I can’t be the first. This is all I have. I won’t finish college without my scholarship.”

“Neither will I, but I’m not worried. Who’s going to say anything?”

“It’s fine. I’m not ratting you or anyone else out. Just following the rules.”

An idea occurs to me. A bad one but I open my stupid mouth anyway. “You can stay in my room. Then you aren’t taking anything from a team. Only me.”

“Did they pay for your room?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Seaborn is wavering; I see it in his eyes.

“Don’t you want to sleep?” That’s the wrong thing to say.

His eyes narrow. “Why would you want me in your room?”

“I’m being nice. I don’t want to lose my edge with you because I feel bad you don’t sleep.” I’m not sure if that’s my real motivation, but it sounds good out loud.

“This isn’t about…”

I laugh. “I don’t have to bribe you with a room to fuck you. I just have to beat your ass on the ice, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Fine.” He gets his bag from the bell check, and we ride the elevator in silence.

I open the door and hold it for him.

He steps into the space tentatively but stops. “There’s only one fucking bed.”

“And?”

“Where did you expect me to sleep?”

“Is a king sized. I think you’ll be okay.” I knock our shoulders as I shove past him.

“Why don’t you have two queens like everyone else?”

“I like a lot of space when I sleep so I can stretch out.” I meet his gaze, not sure what he’ll do. Seaborn is a bit like a flighty bird off the ice.

“We’re just going to share a bed.” His reluctance amuses me.

“Is not that deep.” I kick off my shoes and pull my shirt off, ducking into the bathroom and knowing his eyes will be on me. “Live with it or let them pay for your room.”