Page 77 of Power Play

At least someone is happy.

“I needed to busy myself with something.” Roman shrugs. “I was on the treadmill for thirty minutes, watchingHouse of the Dragon.” I arch an eyebrow at him. I’m sure I remember those episodes being an hour long. “I watch them at 2x speed.”

“That’s weird. I don’t think I could actually comprehend something at that speed,” I comment. “Do you watch it in Russian?”

“Nah, with Russian subtitles. In case I miss something or don’t hear it clearly. With all the different accents, it’s easy to do.” He uncaps the bottle and chugs half of it in one go. “Going back to your room?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Me too.”

I bend to grab my water bottle and key card from the floor.

“Let’s go. We still have time for a nap,” Roman says.

Or for mindlessly staring at the ceiling until it’s time to head to the arena. I haven’t decided what I want to do.

“How are things between you and Nevaeh? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“You’re fine.” Roman glances at me. “It’s all good. We’re getting to know each other, growing closer. Um, I’m actually thinking about going back to therapy. Nev helps me navigate my shit, but it’s not her responsibility to make me feel better. So there’s that.”

“You mean because of…” I trail off as we get to the elevators. Roman hits the button, keeping his gaze trained on me. “Because of your brother?” I finish my question quietly.

Roman slips one hand in his pocket. The other one wraps tightly around the neck of the bottle. “Yeah, grief sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” He looks me up and down, a small smile on his lips. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I usually don’t talk about this stuff at all. Maybe only with Colt.”

“I’ve been told I’m a good listener. I help people figure out what they want.” I grin. The elevator doors slide open.

We both step inside, and Roman hits number seven on the panel.

“And who’s listening to you, Clay?” he asks, and my insides churn. Just like that, he hit me where it hurts the most. Keeping secrets from my friends, keeping everything that’s been happening between Layla and me behind closed doors, is hard. I forget when I last talked to any of my friends, when I was completely honest with them. I’m hiding my feelings, when in reality I want to scream about them at the top of my lungs.

It’s fucking killing me slowly.

“Sorry, Clay, it’s not my business.” Roman threads his fingers through his blond hair.

“That’s okay. Maybe one day I’ll find someone to listen to me…when I’m ready to talk.”

The elevator stops at the seventh floor, and we both walk out of it. Roman hesitates, fiddling with his key card. “I know we don’t know each other very well. But sometimes it’s way easier to open up to someone if they aren’t that close to you.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. “It helped me open up to Nev at first.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

We stand in the hallway, staring at each other, but it doesn’t feel awkward. In this strange and fucked-up way, with secrets that are probably incredibly different, we understand one another. And for me, that’s enough to make me feel grateful.

“See you later, Roman.” I extend my fist to him.

Smiling, he bumps it. “See you later, Clay.”

I turn to my right and go to my room, while Roman goes to his left and proceeds to his. I can admit, at least to myself, that he made me feel better.

Fingers crossed it will help me prepare for the game. I can always sulk in my room later.

Beinga starter after spending the first four home games on the bench is exhilarating. My body is buzzing with energy I’ve been suppressing the whole time, bottling it up for the chance to be on the ice, to show my skills in the best way possible. And we’re doing pretty fucking great, if you ask me.

Colt put the Thunders ahead one to zero in the fifth minute of the first period, using our power play to his advantage. He made a move around Klein in the right circle, dragging the puck around Johannesen next with Ivchenko on his back, and then, with a backhand shot, he sent the puck over Nashville’s goalie’s glove from in tight.

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