Page 127 of Two Guys One Puck
“You don’t care about anything but hockey. Your jealousy shows you care about me.”
“So what? We just pretend we won’t be in different cities and always passing each other in the night. Our lives are too complicated for it. Is the tradeoff. We are selling our youths for a big paycheck, and it comes with a steep fucking price. How could we ever have it? Not until one of us retires.” My head is such a fucking war zone.
“I don’t have answers for you, and I’m not saying it’s going to be perfect, but it’s a fuck load better than the last couple of weeks.”
“Fuck you. Why do you have to make points?”
He grabs me by the shirt and slams me into the wall. I grunt, pulling his dress shirt out of his slacks, needing to feel his skin. He grinds against me like he’s never missed anything as much as the way our hips come together.
“We don’t have much time. I have a flight,” he says into my mouth but doesn’t stop kissing me.
“I know. Fuck you for leaving.”
“You better win tomorrow.”
I break the kiss with a questioning look. “Why?”
“Because if you lose, I don’t get to see you next weekend.”
“What, so I can beat your ass on the ice and then you can fuck me into the mattress?” I grab every part of him I can keep ahold of.
“No bet this time?” Seaborn breathes into my mouth.
“I’m selfish.”
He smiles against my mouth. “I like when you’re selfish.”
“You like me possessive too, like crazy person.”
“I like what I like, Ktytor.” His smile grows.
We deepen the kiss, lost to each other.
“Go before I let you fuck me in this alley.”
He groans but pulls back. “Call me later?”
“I will try if I don’t have my coach’s shoe up my ass.”
THIRTY-NINE
SEABORN
Both the Monsters and The Gods have our semi-final games tomorrow at Summerset. If we both win we play each other. I don’t know how we lucked out. It’s not on home ice, that’s not allowed, but at least we don’t have to travel far just across the city.
It’s a long week waiting to see him again. We talk but it’s still strained. I just need him face to face so we can feel normal again.
“I’m skipping the team dinner tonight. Can you make an excuse for me?” I casually drop on Wolfe Thursday afternoon.
Both him and Archangel slow motion turn in my direction, horror movie style.
“Excuse me?” Archangel asks.
“What he said, only I can’t do it with as much cunt.” Wolfe crosses his arms.
“I have something I need to do.” I don’t really want to tell them what I have planned because I’m pretty sure they’ll object.
Archangel studies me, and I try to keep everything off my face like Ktytor told me to. “What are you hiding? Because if I were you, I’d just tell the team I was going to see my dad. You have like the free excuse for the rest of the season card.”
