Page 113 of Two Guys One Puck
“Me, figuring my own head out has nothing to do with how loyal I am.”
“Are you bisexual? What is this?”
“I’m not sleeping with anyone else. Why does it matter if I’m with you?”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“Isn’t that what matters?”
“It all matters.”
“I’m trying to figure it out. I’m not fucking a bunch of girls.” I don’t know why he won’t hear me.
“Not yet, but you will when you’re done with this.”
“I can’t tell you the future.” I don’t even know where I’ll end up next year, but I’m fucking trying. Does he not see that?
“But you can tell me that there will aways be all the pussy on the planet in your house, waiting on a fucking silver platter.”
“Are you insecure?” I’d never seen him insecure about anything.
“No. I’m a fucking realist.” He grabs my shirt, and we scuffle. “Let me go.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“I don’t want to fucking talk. I need to cool down.”
I step back, letting him pass, not sure what else I can do. He shoulders past, roughly knocking me back a step.
I feel helpless as he walks off into the dark.
Fuck.
THIRTY-FOUR
KTYTOR
Iknow I’m an asshole, but right now, I feel more like an idiot. None of this was ever supposed to happen. The error in judgment is going to weigh on me for a long time. How could I take such a risk and let it get to a place where I know it will affect my game and the lives of my family?
“Fuck.”
I must rip off the plaster. This was never meant to be, and I was stupid for thinking of a future in it.
“Can you fucking stop?” Seaborn jogs up behind me.I didn’t expect him to follow.
My brain is a tangle of both languages, which makes arguing with him impossible. I grunt and keep walking, but he grabs my shoulder.
I spin around and throw off his hand. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything.”
I clench my hands into fists, exhaling. I never let my rage build this way on the ice. Or anywhere. Why the fuck does he get to me like this?
“I don’t want you to leave,” Seaborn says when I don’t speak.
“That’s not the fucking point,” I finally manage.
“Then what is the point?” His emotions are written on his face, and I know he feels bad.
