Page 47 of Two Guys One Puck
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.
