Page 87 of Scoring Position

Kitty made a noise like a garbage disposal. “Why I’m do this? Kolya is big boy, he can take care. I tell you come talk becauseyou’re stupid.”

Yeah…. Ryan didn’t have a good defense for that. “Oh.”

“And Kolya!” Kitty rolled his eyes. “Not so stupid, but just kid. He thinks because he has lots of sex he’s so—so—” He huffed. “English is stupid today. What is word, means done something lots times so think you know everything?”

“Experienced?” Ryan guessed. “Overconfident?”

“Yes, this word.” Another eye roll followed. It unbalanced him enough that he clutched at the table to stay upright. “But I watch, and I know. He never has boyfriend here. I think maybe is okay, maybe Doc knows how to be boyfriend.” His expression made it pretty clear that Ryan had fallen short of expectations there. “Or at least, if he doesn’t know, he asks me, I tell him how to do.”

Ryan should’ve done that. But he’d have done a lot of things differently, looking back.

He wished he could fix it, but he didn’t know how to tell Kitty that either. Before he could figure it out, the timer went, reminding him to put the pasta on to boil, and Yorkie knocked at the door. “Is it safe to come back in?”

“I’m still alive,” Ryan joked halfheartedly.

Kitty snorted as Yorkie sat back down next to him. “Is no use punching him now, since is over. Still maybe you deserve it, little bit. You lucky my hand is broken.”

If Kitty’s hand weren’t broken, Nico would still be here. But then Ryan would have to live with the guy he’d broken up with.

Or, more accurately, the guy who’d sort of broken up with him, even though he claimed to love Ryan. Who did that?

“Can’t be punching now anyway,” Kitty went on, lamenting to the table top. They should probably get some food into him before the painkiller overload made him sick. “I’m have to set good example.”

Ryan glanced at Yorkie, who shook his head. Obviously he wasn’t following Kitty’s words either. “For the rookies?”

“Forbaby,” Kitty said, as though Yorkie was very stupid. The words didn’t make sense until he dropped the attitude and said, “Me and Katja, we are little bit surprised, but of course happy too.”

Yorkie was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost. Ryan still wasn’t sure he understood what he’d just heard. “Are you, uh… are you saying Katja’s pregnant?”

“Yes! I just say that.” Kitty nodded—apparently too enthusiastically, as he nearly did a faceplant. “You never listen? This why Kolya break up with you?”

Ryan wasn’t touching that.

“But is not so simple,” Kitty went on as Yorkie looked increasingly like a man on the verge of a psychotic break. “Because I am from Russia. Katja is born in Poland, but her parents from Ukraine, and is little bit complicate right now.”

Little bit complicate, Ryan mouthed.

“Can’t bring her to visit in Russia because not safe. And I don’t go see her in Poland, because maybe I make things bad for her there. People don’t like Russians right now. And also,” he continued, “baby comes July or August, but Katja has student visa. She’s graduating April. So maybe her visa not good anymore when baby comes.”

Ryan was starting to see why a guy might get so distracted he’d break his hand blocking a slap shot during practice.

“I’m of course can stay here, so maybe we get married?” Kitty said. “And obviously I love her, but this very fast, even for hockey player.”

“Oh my God,” Yorkie finally said, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh God,” Ryan echoed. “We need alcohol.” Sobriety could wait one more day.

“Yes,” Kitty said fervently.

“No,” Ryan and Yorkie said together. Yorkie continued, “Not with your painkillers. Jesus. Two glasses, Ryan. The good stuff’s in the freezer.”

Ryan grabbed the bottle of vodka and two shot glasses from the cupboard and poured two shots.

After he and Yorkie had knocked their drinks back, Ryan turned to Kitty. “So, are we problem-solving tonight, Kitty?” Stoned, unfocused eyes turned to him. Ryan snorted. “Are you asking for advice or venting?”

“You know law now?”

“No.”

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