Page 58 of Jaded

“I swear you’re all trying to kill me,” one of the old guys groans. “This is the hardest I’ve ever skated in my life.”

The four of us just smile. And keep right on doing what we’re doing. Syd slams Avery up against the boards, grinning with every single one of her teeth.

She’s kind of a teeny badass.

Nat nudges an elbow into my ribs, so next play I deke around him like he’s standing still—drawing tauntingooohs from both Avery and Syd. He gives them both the middle finger.

And then scores a goal unassisted.

Don’t laugh at Daddy.

Too soon, the skate draws to a close and we’re back in the locker room to change. I’m sweating, a little breathless, never sated but at least calmer than I was last night or earlier this morning. Nothing about me is ever trulystill. But I get pretty close after a good skate.

Until the conversation starts.

“So, you going next week?”

“Nah, man, you know I’m clean.” The guy grins to let everyone know he’s joking. “Just kidding. I got money on Ninety-Four.”

Man, even the drop-in dudes are into the Ice Out, huh? It really does have the entire town in a chokehold. Placing bets, driving the locker room chatter . . .

“Ninety-Four’s a chump.”

“I got money on Number Forty-Seven making it three rounds—”

“Nah, four.”

Nat actually joins in. “Sixty-Eight’s pretty good, though—”

“No way, man, Forty-Seven got himbeat.”

“Even I know Forty-Seven’s better.” Avery leans forward to chime in. “And I never been to the Ice Out.”

“Like fuck you haven’t . . .”

“Better not have . . .”

We’re all driven to darkness in this place.

Maybe that’s what makes me turn towards the guy next to me and ask, “What the hell is everyone talking about?”

“Oh man.” The target of my inquiry is a mid-thirties Asian dude with a sweat-slicked pseudo mullet. “The Ice Out. It’s amazing. If you haven’t been . . . man, you gotta.”

“Is it like . . . Dingoes?” I ask, even though I know perfectly well it’s not.

“Hell no. Dingoes are yesterday. Nobody goes to their games anymore.”

Don’t I know it. But still, I gotta know, from the mouth of thepeople, right? “Why not?”

He shrugs, and his eyes slip slightly out of focus, like he’s considering. “’Cause it’s not our game anymore. Nobody cares about a bunch of pretty Cali boys who come in for half a season and move on. You know? The Ice Out isus.”

I don’t know what to make of that, so I throw my clothes into my bag and practically run for the showers. Takes me a matter of minutes to lather some soap, rinse, and wrap a towel around myself.

Before I can leave the shower area, Nat appears—shirtless, naturally, a towel draped around his waist. And I simply cannot help the way my eyes drift down that beautiful bare torso, dragging over each curve of muscle.

But my God, seriously. The man is goddamn gorgeous.

And maybe that’s what makes my big stupid brain decide to say big stupid things. “Well, this is cozy. Not going to be awkward at all, now that we’ve swapped spit, nursed a puking teen, discussed my embarrassing poetry habits—crap, I was the one to bring it up, oh my God . . .”

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