Page 33 of Two Guys One Puck
“You never sleep in?”
I shrug. “Can’t. I’m used to getting up for hockey, and before hockey, it was chores before school.” It doesn’t bother me. I’m used to everyone finding it weird. Actually, most people find everything about me weird. I can’t bring myself to care.
“Shit. I wish. It would make my life a lot easier.” He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. His cuteness annoys me.
Yesterday, I might have found it endearing, but today, I want to hit him in the face. “I’m going to use the hot tub.”
“What? How are you doing that?”
“I asked them.” I’m not sure what he’s expecting. “It’s not hard.”
Seaborn shakes his head, hair a mess. “I’ll come with you. My ass is still sore.”
“You bruised?”
He tugs down the back of his sweats without warning. “You tell me. I haven’t looked.”
I keep my gaze locked on his but finally let it drop to the skin he’s revealed. It’s bruised but not badly. “Looks like shit. Put some ice on it.”
He’s fucking about while I grab my stuff and leave again. If I’m up, I might as well be using the day. I don’t have time to waste.
I wait for the bus and smoke another cig while texting my brother. He’ll be getting out of school soon, and I want to catch him before I’m in training for the day. The bus pulls up, and I greet the driver. He’s Slavic, and we trade a couple of words and laugh. It’s nice to hear a familiar accent, but it makes me miss home. Before the driver closes the doors, another guy slips in.
I turn to find Seaborn. “What are you doing?”
“You told me I should ice my…bruise.” He grins, shouldering by me.
“I wasn’t aware you could actually listen, cupcake.” I sit across from him, and we ride to the facility in silence.
We get to the facility, and some guys are milling around, eating and doing their offseason workouts or rehabbing. We head to the locker room and drop our stuff.
I grab a towel and strip down to my shorts. Seaborn does the same. This feels like a standoff. A shift. I can’t tell if our truce isholding. “You going to stand there all day or get your ass looked at?”
“I think I’m going in the cold tub.” Seaborn grabs himself a towel and walks off.
I don’t want it to seem like I’m following him, but the hot tub is in the same area, and I’m not going to fail to be at the top of my game because of him. I walk past, not making eye contact, but he’s got a trainer looking at his ass anyway. I can’t help but glance at the bruise again as I sink into the hot tub. He’s got quite the ass on him, which probably saved his tailbone.
I avert my eyes when the trainer signs off on him going in the cold tub. We’re alone again in another minute.
“Fuck, this is cold.” His teeth chatter.
“You’ve barely been in there thirty seconds.”
“I don’t see you in here.”
“Is not that difficult, cherry baby.”
“If it’s not that hard, you get in.” Seaborn dares me.
“I’ve been in a hot tub. Is much harder going from hot to cold.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me.”
“Aren’t you tired?” I climb out of the tub and cross the tiled floor.
“Tired of what?”
“Being insufferable. Has got to be exhausting for you, no?” I hook my leg over the edge. The tub isn’t big, so we’re going to have to be close to both fit. I push it, forcing myself into the ice cold water right next to him.
