Page 9 of The Last Inch Of Ice
“Where is ‘here’?”
“Callahan—”
“Sorry, didn’t hear you,” Callahan says, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Thought you were talking to yourself… worried you’d actually gone soft.”
They win the game with an excellent result, despite the fact that they both tried to break the scheme again. A few hours after the final buzzer, Thompson pulls them aside in the hallway outside the locker room. His assistant coach stands beside him, arms crossed.
“Callahan?” Thompson asks.
“Everything’s fine,” Callahan says smoothly.
“Rykov?”
“Everything’s fine,” Nazar says. “Any comments?”
Thompson exchanges a quick glance with his assistant. “Good. Less skating around like you’ve got nowhere to go. Got it?”
“Yes, coach,” Callahan replies, smirk tugging at his lips.
“Yes, coach,” Nazar echoes, jaw tight.
* * *
Before the season opener, Nazar realizes the current lineup and tactics will be the main strategy for the season.
This means he and that nepo bastard will depend on each other for the entire season.
During one team meeting, Callahan presses his lips together, his jaw tight. It’s the first time Nazar has seen that expression on his face—genuine tension, maybe even worry.
And if he is worried, then they’re both doomed.
Nazar is so angry he waits for Callahan in one of the corridors after practice. When Callahan turns the corner and nearly walks into him, he flinches—like he’s surprised—and for some reason, that makes Nazar’s mood even worse.
“I’ll be brief,” Nazar says, his voice low. “I know you didn’t come here for no reason. And if you’re planning to mess things up and ruin the season, then frame me like I’m to blame for the poor results—I can’t vouch for what I’ll do to you after that.”
Callahan’s face changes before his eyes. His mouth twists, and his voice drips with venom. “You’ll be brief? Dude, you can’t even string two words together.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Are you sure you didn’t rehearse this speech in front of the mirror?” He steps closer, his tone mocking. “It looks like you did.‘I can’t vouch for what I’ll do.’Dear God.”
Nazar orders his legs to stay put. He grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches. Fuck, by the end of the season, he won’t have any teeth left. They’ll be worn down to dust.
“Did you hear me?” Nazar asks after a pause.
“Fuck off,” Callahan says, enunciating each word as he moves even closer.
Nazar’s eyes drop to his neck on their own. He jerks his gaze back up, meeting blue eyes.
His pupils are dilated. Dark and wild. It’s the first time Nazar has seen this much anger in Callahan’s face, and it makes his blood boil. He feels like he’s on drugs. Even a bulldozer couldn’t move him now—Callahan is so close, he can almost feel his breath on his face.
Callahan opens his mouth like he’s about to say something. Nazar has no doubt a barrage of insults is coming. That bastard never misses an opportunity.
But Callahan changes his mind.
He throws another angry glance at Nazar and walks away.
* * *
