Page 75 of Two Guys One Puck
“Not like you need it,” Archangel quips back.
“This is not about him!” Wolfe throws down his fork. “Are you going to even be able to play after being out all night?”
“What do you think that means?” I ask because Wolfe isn’t some prude. He’s gotten around plenty. Puck bunnies love goalies.
“You obviously fucked all night. That’s what this is about.”
“You think just because I was out all night I didn’t sleep?” It’s a little comical.
“I’ve met some wild chicks who went for hours,” Wolfe says matter-of-factly.
“Well, that’s not my experience. Fuck, I’m too tired to function like that. Even if my dick wants it sometimes, who can come that much?” I shake my head because the most I’ve ever come is with Ktytor. I’m usually one and done leaving right after with women. I’d never had the urge to spend the night with anyone else, and I don’t really want to know what that says about me, so I push it down.
“Then you’re doing it wrong,” Wolfe says, starting on his massive plate of eggs. We’re four years into our friendship, and it still amazes me how much he needs to eat to maintain his size. It’s almost like a side-show, but I force myself to look away.
“How the fuck do you figure?” I ask, not really sure I want to know, but I’m in too deep, and it’s taken the focus off me.
“It’s called edging and denial.” Wolfe nods, all proud of himself.
Archangel squints at him. “I’m not about to kink shame you, but are you telling me you’re purposefully not coming?”
“It’s like you don’t even know me.” Wolfe huffs and gets up.
I grab his arm. “Woah, same question. Because now I need to know.”
“I’m getting more food. I need a Dr. Pepper to continue this conversation or it’s not going to end well.”
“At eight in the morning?” I grimace.
“It’s how I process my emotions. Do you want unprocessed Wolfe?” He pulls out of my grasp, and I’m not really sure what happened.
I turn to Archangel. “Is he okay?”
“He’s going through something.” Archangel shrugs. “I could say the same about you.”
“Can we drop it? It’s not like I’m going to see him until we play them for the last time.”
He gives me a look like I’ve got the intelligence of a cardboard box.
“What?” I ask, unable to connect the dots.
“They’re our travel partner this year.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” It’s too early to use my brain, and what he’s saying doesn’t ring a bell.
“Am I the only one who knows how college hockey functions? There is a way they set up our games. It’s not just put into a random generator. Like you know how we played The Monsters, and now we’re playing BU?”
“Yeah, so they just do two close schools, so we don’t have to get on a plane for our next game. Everyone knows that.”
“Every year, we are paired with another school, and we both travel to that place, each play one, then switch. That part isn’t random.”
I narrow my eyes, not sure I believe him. “You mean all this time we’ve been flip-flopping with another team, but it’s always the same team?”
“Yes, you dolt.”
“So The Monsters are going to be in the same city as us every game weekend?”
Archangel laughs. “Close. You know, some of the weekends, we have like a two-hour bus ride. But like when we’re in DC or Connecticut.”
