Page 25 of Two Guys One Puck
The trainer nods after a second and backs off.
We are up for the final game and lose badly.
We’re destroyed by two of their best players. Best friends, too. They move together in a way I can’t imagine. One that must have taken years playing together to achieve. Like they know what the other is thinking. I’d like to say it’s not because I’m off my game, but I know that plays into it.
We have dinner, and we’re done for the day. Ktytor keeps looking at me, but I get to know the other guys in our group while we eat, refusing to acknowledge him. We clean up after ourselves and get in the bus back to the hotel.
I don’t go inside with the rest of the guys, though. I head back out to take a walk. It’s my normal night-time routine, and I need it to work my body out. Plus, I want to see how bad my tailbone hurts. I turn around the block and somehow come face to face with Ktytor.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“For a walk. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me. “Why?”
“Because I like to walk.”
“Have a drink with me. We need to celebrate our win and our first day.”
“Near win,” I correct him.
“Close enough. They were impressed.”
“You think?” I ask.
“I know they were. They were even worried they might have injured you.” He’s smug about it. “We play well together.”
“Playing a game together doesn’t mean anything,” I snap, realizing what I’m saying when the words are already out of my mouth.
“Isn’t a game the meaning of everything in our world, baby girl?”
“One drink.”
NINE
KTYTOR
He’s true to his word and keeps it to one drink. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve never had an issue getting people to open up to me, but Seaborn is impossible. He’s not avoiding me, but he is making friends with everyone else in our group and the other we get partnered with. He’s the life of the practice, funny and playful.Why is he such a grumpy dick for me?
He’s making himself stand out as a team player and as a guy everyone likes. I’ve never been good at those things. My team likes me, but I work harder than they do, and they know it. People don’t like to be made to look lazy, and someone working harder than them brings out those feelings. I’ve never let it be my problem. But now I’m seeing the error in my ways. How can I compete with the guy everyone likes? Teams want the best, but they don’t want a guy with a bad attitude who can’t play nice with others.
On the third day of this likable guy thing, I come up with a plan. Even though a walk is the last fucking thing I want, I put my trainers back on and wait outside. About five minutes later, he comes out, and I drop my cigarette.
“Hey.”
He nods, then turns away from me to begin his walk.
Fuck. I don’t know why I thought he’d stop. “Wait up.”
He glances over his shoulder. “What?”
“I want to walk with you.” I jog to catch up despite my legs protesting.
“Why?” He doesn’t stop his power walk.
“Is doing something good for you, no?”
“Take your own walk.” He barely glances at me.
