Page 64 of Drop the Gloves
Warner glared at them both.“Friends,” he scoffed.“Barzy, we weren’t friends when you lived here.”
“Aww, Warner, you’re breaking my heart.”Riley skated backwards with Abs in tow.They had a lot of ice to cover for that icing call.“I’ve missed you so much.I thought we could have a movie night and paint each other’s nails.”
Warner only rolled his eyes and went to his bench, muttering what sounded a lot like, “Fuck off.”
A whistle blew.“Riveters!Let’s go!”the far ref called.“Stop dicking around!It was an icing, not a timeout!”
Riley shot a thumbs-up to the ref that hopefully wasn’t too patronizing.“Don’t get in a fight,” he told Abs.“We’re counting hits, not punches.”
“What’s the difference?”Abs mumbled.Riley couldn’t tell if it was a joke.He chose to think it was.
“We’ll check the stats after the game,” Riley said.“I’ve only got two so far, I think.Officially.”
“No bonus points for snowing the goalie?”That one wasdefinitelya joke.
“Nah.It’ll get me some comments on the fan blogs, though.”He grinned, happy to have things the way they belonged.
Him and Abs, playing hockey.Who gave a shit about the other team?
27
Evan hadn’t seen muchof Barczyk since they’d landed in Philly.From the second they got off the plane to the moment they could safely escape into the hotel, the media had hounded Barczyk.Their closed practice had been the only respite, keeping out the reporters who’d crowded around the arena entrance and begged for locker room access.During a friggin’ practice!It would’ve driven Evan crazy, especially when fans spotted them and added to the chaos, but attention had never seemed to bother Barczyk.
He thrived on it.
Evan hadn’t bothered trying to see Barczyk after practice—Barczyk had stayed after the rest of the team had cleared out of the locker room, slowly working through everyone with media clearance as they waited for their sound bites—and took his dinner to his room for some peace.He took some melatonin in the hope of knocking himself out.The more time he had to think, the more he’d freak himself out.
Because if he started thinking, sooner than later he’d have to think about the deal he’d made.
Tomorrow night, he might be having sex with Riley Barczyk.
Which was absurd!He’d gone into the season hating Barczyk!Also, straight!None of this made any sense!
It was also ridiculous to think this meant any more or less than what they’d already been doing.They’d been having sex for weeks.The only difference between that stuff and this was whatever baggage he wanted to put on it.
Unfortunately, his brain wanted to put a lot of baggage.Like he could still say he wasn’t gay, but that was the point where he’d have to acknowledge he maybe was a tiny bit.
But this whole situation was easy to avoid!He could lay a few hits to appease Barczyk without giving it his all, then he would lose their deal and nothing would happen.There was no reason this had to be a thing at all.
Of course, every time Evan considered it, he found himself grinding his teeth.Baggage or not, he really wanted to win.He’d never allowed himself to imagine fucking Barczyk; as soon as Barczyk had offered, it was all Evan could think about.Evan was helpless, too weak to refuse what Barczyk was so willing to offer, which meant he’d be as physical as possible against Philly.
More physical than he’d ever been.Barczyk got hits as easily as he took shots.It was like breathing or skating for him, barely a consideration.In some strange alternate reality where Barczyk didn’t want to play physical tomorrow night, it wouldn’t matter: the Gliders wouldn’t let him walk out of this one without a few bumps and bruises to show for it.
Whatever.It at least gave him an excuse if someone asked Evan why he’d suddenly tried to bully his way through a game.He could say he was looking out for his linemate, which was true.That he might get rewarded for it later was nobody’s business.
“Stop thinking,” he grumbled to himself.He rolled over, took another melatonin, and this time blissfully drifted off into oblivion.
* * *
Game day was more of the same: it was Riley Barczyk versus all of Philadelphia, per every sports news outlet.Admittedly, it felt like that.A lot of obscene gestures and rude comments were directed their way as they went from the hotel to the arena, all of them met with Barczyk’s wide grin.He looked a little tired, though; Evan wondered if Barczyk had slept well, and if he hadn’t, what had kept him up.
Not that Evan got a chance to ask.Evan might as well not have been there for how little Barczyk said to him in the locker room.There were a lot of cameras, so he got it.There was rarely such a thing as a private conversation in the locker room, and this was almost as bad as playoffs.Vassiliev and Evan both had to scooch down the bench to make room and stay out of the limelight.
On the ice, it should’ve been business as usual, but still no.Evan watched Barczyk from a distance as he worked the crowd during warm-ups.Just like when he’d first arrived in Pittsburgh, the fans sure loved to hate him.
“This will all go to his head,” Vassiliev said.He sounded amused.“I don’t know how we’ll survive if his ego gets any bigger.”
Evan laughed because he was supposed to, but he didn’t have the heart to say anything.Instead he waited by the bench in their usual spot, stickhandling and trying not to notice how quickly the time was disappearing.With only two minutes left and most of the team already back in the locker room, Evan decided to join them.He spared one last glance at Barczyk, rocking back against the boards so that they shook as fans banged on the other side, before disappearing down the tunnel.
