Page 61 of Kitty Season
Scoffing, Brady gives them a tap just near some kind of logo on the hem. “They’re footy shorts, dick.”
Cory, and the rest of the team that’s dressed out and ready to hit the ice, seem doubtful. “I dunno man, I’ve been watching football all my life and I’ve never seen shorts that small.”
“That’s because you’re watching the wrong kind. You’ve gotta get some AFL into ya.”
They laugh, and Skip does too, but stops the instant his crinkled eyes land on me and Quinn. His head drops and he turns on his heels, hightailing it into the corridor that leads to the locker room.
It takes a beat or two for me to decide what to do. There’s a good chance if I follow him down there I’ll either fight him orfuck him. Neither seems like a good idea but also the best thing I’ve ever thought of.
Maybe it will be safer to take Quinn with me.
“Fuck that. Let’s go, Kitty.” I grab her wrist and drag her along behind me, cutting through the team as though they were opposition on the ice, and down the same hall.
We’re halfway down the hall when she pulls me to a stop. “Troye, what are you doing? You have practice. This can wait.”
“No it can’t. You deserve an apology and I’m making sure you get it.”
An apology may be a stretch, but at least she gets an eyeful of naked Skip when I barge through the doors.
“Bro, what the hell?” He drops his hands to cover his naked junk, then turns to face the inside of his cubby.
“Bit late to be modest, isn’t it?” Since there’s no one else here, not that it would have stopped me, I close in, shoving him in the back till his face slams into the wood paneling, my forearm pressing against his neck. “What’s your deal, Basse? You walk around pining for my girl, then run like a bitch and ruin her birthday after she blows you. You’re a fucking coward.”
“Maybe I am all those things, but at least I can admit it.”
“What?” What the fuck does that mean?
So livid, I can hardly see, I dig my fingers into Brady’s shoulder, and flip him around till the arm that was between his head and shoulders, is now wedged under his chin.
Kitty slides her hands around my waist and tugs. “Troye, stop. Let him go.”
“Quinn, wait outside.”
“No.”
“I said, wait outside.”
“Yeah? Well I said no. Let. Him. Go.”
Despite my best efforts, her feistiness has my lips curl into a wry smile. She’s so fucking hot when she’s mad. “Fine, but stay out of it, Kitty.”
I don’t let him go but I do ease my hold, when my attention returns to his bare chest. As expedited, he’s practically steaming with rage beneath me, his neck and face searing red. Like Quinn, it’s hot. The heat pooling between us could spontaneously pop a Pop tart.
I like it. Still, I don’t want them to know that. “Okay, Captain Koala, what the fuck does,at least I can admit it, mean?”
“Well, Captain Cockspank. It means, you’re so full of shit with your tough guy—I don’t give a hoot about Quinn—routine. I saw the way you touched, and looked at her, Troye. It was like she didn’t just hang your moon, but your stars, and your sun, and your whole fucking universe. If you didn’t have your head so far up your ass, you would have seen that she looks at you the same way. It made me so fucking jealous I couldn’t see straight because I want that. I want her to look, and touch me the way she does you. And then I realized?—”
Violent banging against the door, and Shane’s, “Dudes! Get your asses out here now.” Cuts off Brady’s monologue, just when it was getting interesting.
My head volleys between the exit and Brady, and Quinn. Slightly off balance, it’s enough for him to make his move. Knocking my arm away, he fists my shirt in one hand, Quinn’s in the other, and drags us around the dividing wall and into the showers. My skates clunk against the tile as I’m tossed against the wall, shoulder pads squishing up around my ears. Quinn’s here too, Skip’s hold on her far gentler.
His sudden burst of confidence fades before my eyes. He hasn’t got a clue what to do with us.
I shove my face in him, my lips curling into a snarl. “What’s the matter, Skip? You too scared to tell us what you realized? Kitty got your tongue?”
I expect rage. Fire. Fight. What I get is a deflated giant, folding forward till his forehead rests on my shoulder.
“I wanted you.” He swallows. “I wanted you to look at me like you did her, and it scared the shit out of me.”
