Page 15 of Two Guys One Puck
“Not right now,” he hisses.
I breathe slowly, each inhale sending knives stabbing between my ribs, but I reel myself back in.
“You okay, doll?” Ktytor says when I’m on him again. “Do I need to kiss it and make it better?”
“Go fuck yourself. You’re taking cheap shots because you can’t get to me.”
“Hardly.” His gaze meets mine for just a second before his team feeds the puck to him. He forces his skate back, slamming the back of his boot into mine while flailing and falling backwards.
The ref instantly intervenes, calling tripping.
“Are you kidding me? He threw himself backwards!”
“If you want to accuse me of something, I’ll fucking do it,” Ktytor says with a smirk.
“Go to the box before I yellow card you,” the ref says, sounding almost bored.
“Just go,” Wolfe says, but I can tell he’s pissed at Ktytor’s shit, too.
There’s only two minutes left in the game, and I’ll be holding my fucking breath the entire time I’m in the box.
Ktytor knows how to ride the time. He’s not just trying to slam the puck into the back of the net. He’s drawing it out, not giving us a second to even it up. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do.
In a smugness I’ve never seen anyone pull off, Ktytor glances back right before his team passes the puck, and he rears back to shoot.
I tighten my fingers around my stick, digging my nails into the wood. My life slows as Wolfe moves to block. His hand comes up, but I know before it happens. He’s not going to be able to stop it.
The light goes off with one second left on the clock, and Ktytor jumps in the air, screaming.
Motherfucker.
It’s over.
We line up to congratulate them.
“Want a repeat, sweetheart?” Ktytor says under his breath as he passes.
“Meet me in five minutes behind the busses.”
“Is a date.”
Neither of us even bothered to fully change. He’s in his rash guard, and I’m in mine. I pulled on sweats and shoes, but that’s it. I don’t even feel the icy wind. I’m too bent on putting my fist in his fucking face.
He walks out a minute after I do, a cocky swagger to his gait. “Come out, come out wherever you are, beautiful.”
“Blow me,” I say through my teeth.
“How can I when you’re so far away?” He ruffles his hand through his blond hair.
“You know if anyone sees us, we’ll be in trouble with the league.” It’ll be a while before any of our teammates come out, but I don’t want to risk the off chance someone will come looking because they notice us missing.
“Fair. I guess.” He stops a few feet in front of me. “I owe you an apology.”
I’m speechless. That isn’t what I’m expecting. “What?”
“For getting you thrown away. That was a cheap shot.” His apology doesn’t temper my anger.
“You fucking did it, and it’s the only reason you won.”
