Page 9 of Icebreaker
“Hey, it’s cool. I’m just going to spend my whole life wondering and being disappointed that I don’t know. I kinda think you might be an art thief. You know, like the people in the movies who dress in black and sneak into windows… What are they called?”
“Cat burglars?”
“Yeah,” I said and snapped my fingers. “You’ve probably got like some stolen artifacts in there from a book vault heist. You’re going to forge them, sell the fakes, and keep the originals.”
“You have an active imagination.”
“Is it books? Like all your favorite ones that you hoard like a dragon does gold… How close am I?”
“Closer than you were with art.”
“So it’s books?”
“There are books in there, yes.”
“But it’s not all books?”
“Not comple—” Unfortunately, before I could tease more information from Ellie, pounding on his door interrupted his answer.
Shit. The team was here.
“Be careful with that. It’s important.” Matty, one of the forwards on the team who tore up the ice but was unable to walk on his own two feet, tripped carrying a cardboard box into Ellie’s new bedroom. It dropped on the floor directly next to him.
“Sorry, Ellie. I hope there’s nothing breakable in there.”
“Hey, don’t call him that. His name is Ellis or Cooper. Pick one,” I said when I followed him into the room with another box. Even I knew I sounded like an idiot, but no shits were given.
“I just heard you call him that, so wouldn’t that make it his name?” Matty’s point was valid, and I didn’t have a reasonable counterargument, so I just glared at him.
“Cooper, I hope nothing breakable is in there,” Matty repeated. With a derisive snort, he turned to me and asked, “Better?”
Ellie watched us silently, his eyes darting between Matty and me. I saw the confusion on his face, and I hoped I wasn’t already making him regret moving in. More than that, I hoped he wouldn’t ask me to explain my ridiculous possessiveness over a nickname.
“There’s not.” Ellie offered him a tentative smile, which Matty returned. I didn’t like that shit either, but I wasn’t stupid enough to say anything. My glares finally caught Matty’s attention, and rather than scare him off, he gave me a wicked grin.
“Cooper, do you ever get to watch the games, or are you always stuck in the back?” Matty leaned back on the desk under the window. He pulled his shirt up to scratch his stomach, which just so happened to show off his toned abs. Ellie gulped afew times at the sight, and my eyes narrowed again. Instead of answering, he tried to move the box a little and grunted at the heaviness.
“Oh shit, Coop. I didn’t realize it was so heavy. Where do you want me to put it instead?” With the question, he squatted next to Ellie so his crotch was practically eye level. Matty’s thick thighs strained the seams of his jeans.This fucking guy.
Ellie cleared his throat and croaked out, “Just leave it. I can move it later. And, uh, sometimes I watch, but I don’t really know much about it. I guess it doesn’t matter if I’m only wrapping practice sticks and organizing.”
“You sure about the box?” Ellie nodded, and Matty continued, “That’s cool. But if you’re interested in learning more, I’d be happy to help.”
“Oh, uh, t-t-thank you,” Ellie stammered. His cheeks flushed red and his eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at me.
“I know you’re probably too tired today with the moving and all, but tomorrow some of us are going downtown to the waterfront. Why don’t you join us?We can start your hockey education. If you know more about the games, you’ll enjoy them more.”
“Umm…” The clear dread in that one sound raised my hackles. When Matty extended the invitation, Ellie had drawn away from him, but the oversized and, in my opinion, overbearing player hadn’t taken the hint. As it was, Ellie was bending over backward to give himself a wider personal space bubble. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, but thank you.”
“Come on, Coop, it’ll be fun. Have you been to the Clam Jam? Their seafood is the shit and their fries are the best I’ve ever had. And…” Matty paused dramatically before he tried to seal the deal, “Salty Bitches are on special all night. Guaranteed to fuck you up.”
“Salty Bitches? Is that like a drink?”
“Yep, grapefruit, a shit ton of unknown liquor, and some mint. You can’t even taste the alcohol. C’mon, join us.” Matty gave what he assumed was a cajoling smile. It was a leer.
“He said he wasn’t interested,” I interjected.
“He said bad idea, not uninterested,” Matty retorted.
