Page 57 of Two Guys One Puck
I give him a flat look. “I’m in the shower. Just tell me.”
“Leontiy.”
“Lee-on-ty,” I repeat, seeing how it tastes.
“Better than most Americans.”
“I like it.” I drag him forward so I can kiss him again.
“Seaborn! Where the fuck are you hiding!” Wolfe’s voice booms through the house.
“Fuck.” I break the kiss. “I’m going to have to handle them.”
“You live with your goalie?”
“Yeah? Why?”
“I’m sorry. That’s a terrible lot in life. Even if it is a nice place,” Ktytor laughs.
“It’s not that bad. Except that he’s nosy and always in my business and never leaves me alone.” It sounds bad when I say it out loud.
Ktytor gives me a knowing look. “I feel bad for you. Truly.”
“Why are you in the shower?!” Wolfe says from right outside the door.
I put my finger to my lips. Ktytor rolls his eyes but nods.
“Because I needed to shower. What do you want?” I call.
“You said you were coming out with the team!” Wolfe yells back.
Had I? I think back to the locker room, but there’s no way I had. I’d wanted to see Ktytor. “I told you maybe.”
“And then you blew us off!” Wolfe sounds hurt.
“What he means is we are worried that asshat got in your head, and we don’t want you to be alone.”
Ktytor claps a hand over his mouth, fighting a laugh.
I glare while answering, “I’m good.”
“You don’t sound good.” Wolfe isn’t going to believe me. He’s drunk. I can hear it in his tone, and when he gets on something, he’s like a dog with a damn bone. He never drops it.
“I’m honestly good. But I’m not getting out of the shower.”
“Don’t make me come in there! I am not afraid to see your balls.” Wolfe pounds on the door to let me know he’s serious.
Ktytor lifts an amused brow.
“Don’t you fucking dare. For fuck’s sake.” I step out of the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist. I make sure the curtain is fully closed before opening the door enough so he can see me. “See? I am fine. Can I get back in my nice shower now?”
Wolfe narrows his eyes. “Who the fuck do you have in there with you?!”
“What?” I ask, panicking. How does he fucking know?
“There are two pairs of sweats on the vanity,” Wolfe points out.
“What?” Archangel says from behind Wolfe. He shoves himself under Wolfe’s arm to get a better look. “Are those men’s?!”
