Page 85 of The Last Inch Of Ice
“Yeah.”
Kai nods without turning. He starts pulling things from cupboards—the clink of ceramic on stone the only sound besides the hum of the refrigerator and the distant wash of waves outside.
Nazar stays by the door, his shoulders hunched slightly, feeling like an intruder. He needs to break this silence. Needs to say something that matters.
“My grandmother…” The words come out clumsy, unformed. “She likes you.”
Kai lets out a short, mirthless laugh. “She thinks Bonifazio is a reincarnated Ukrainian poet who died tragically young. She’s an easy woman to charm when you show up with a cat and basic conversational skills.” He sets a mug down with a sharp click. “So what are you doing here, Rykov?”
The espresso machine hisses, filling the silence. Nazar watches Kai’s back, the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s gripping the counter edge like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
“We needed to talk.” The words feel inadequate even as he says them. “Like an actual conversation. Not through reporters or—”
“Did we?” Kai’s voice is light, brittle. “I seem to recall our last conversation ending with you accusing me of grand-theft-grandmother. And me, very wisely, walking away before I said something I’d regret even more.”
The coffee machine stops.
Kai pours with precise movements, like he’s performing surgery rather than making drinks.
“That was…” Nazar searches for the right word. Stupid. Cruel. Unforgivable. He settles on something safer. “An overreaction.”
“Just one?” Kai finally turns, leaning back against the counter with a steaming mug in his hands. Tea, Nazar notices. The armor is back in place—that sardonic smile, those cool eyes that give nothing away. “You’re being far too modest. You’ve had quite a collection of overreactions where I’m concerned.”
Nazar doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s true and they both know it.
Kai takes a sip of his tea, studying Nazar over the rim. “You know, I remember when you first came into the league. You werethis… silent force of nature. There were rumors about you—” He pauses, something flickering in his expression. “About how you’d fuck your way through half the bunnies in every city and never say more than two words to anyone. Very efficient. Very you.”
Nazar feels heat creep up his neck.
He hadn’t realized Kai had been paying attention to him back then. That he’d even registered on Kai’s radar beyond being another player to compete against.
He hadn’t had sex before signing his first contract. During his first two years in the league, he really did sleep with every female fan who wanted him. He wanted sex; they didn’t mind spending time with a rising hockey player. Then he cooled off, and eventually forgot what any of it even felt like.
“A lot’s really changed, hasn’t it?” Kai continues, his voice deceptively light. “Now you’re not fucking bunnies and you’ve started speaking in complete sentences. Character development.”
The barb lands, sharp and precise. Nazar forces himself to move further into the room.
“When did you start visiting her?” he asks, changing direction. “My grandmother.”
Kai’s expression shifts—just slightly, but Nazar catches it. Something softer bleeding through the sarcasm.
“Three months, maybe?” He sets his mug down. “Your coffee’s ready, by the way. You can actually come in. I won’t bite.”
Nazar moves to the island, picking up the mug Kai’s prepared. Black coffee, too hot, the way he drinks it during games. Kai remembered.
“Why?” The question comes out more vulnerable than Nazar intended.
“Why what?” But Kai knows what he’s asking. He’s just making Nazar work for it.
“Why visit her? You could’ve just… I don’t know.”
Kai shakes his head. “She was kind to me. In Vancouver. She treated me like a person instead of a headline. Do you know how rare that is?”
No, Nazar thinks. He probably doesn’t. He’s never had to deal with the constant scrutiny that follows Kai everywhere.
“So what do you even talk about?”
Kai picks up his tea again, cradling it between both hands. “Her garden, she’s growing these massive tomatoes, I guess? Stories about Ukraine before the family emigrated. Hockey, sometimes, but not about you.” He meets Nazar’s eyes. “I never bring you up. She doesn’t either.”
