Page 27 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
I draw back automatically.
Dmitri’s dark eyes scour me, and even though I know it’s probably fine if he knows I’m gay, my heartrate still hurries.
“Yes, you are. I can tell,” he pronounces.
The cold wind brushes around me, leaves flying in its icy embrace.
“You might get attacked if you wander from the right circles.”
“Oh.” I draw back. “That would be unideal.”
“You are in best country in world. Enjoy it.” Dmitri jerks his thumb at Oskar. “Oskar is gay.”
“Um...”
“Maybe you will become couple.”
Oskar’s face reddens, then pales, as if he’s personally demonstrating all the shades of red.
“I’m not looking for anyone,” Oskar says hastily.
Dmitri’s eyes narrow. “You should be with someone. Otherwise, you will be lonely.”
Oskar glances at me apologetically, then turns back to Dmitri. “I’m not lonely. I’m happy. Besides, you’re not with someone, Dmitri.”
Dmitri smirks. “I have new girlfriend all the time. I take bus, find new girlfriend for the night. Not lonely. Not like you.”
Oskar’s shoulders momentarily droop.
Dmitri’s eyes soften. “You need someone, Oskar.” He glances at me. “Maybe him.”
“He normally lives in California,” Oskar says.
“I see.” Dmitri nods. “Good call. In that case, not good for you.” He glances at Oskar. “Stay away.”
“It’s not like I’m going to leap into his arms or anything,” Oskar says. “Just because we’re both gay.”
“I thought two men together would be lots of sex,” Dmitri says, and a line forms on his brow where I did not expect it.
“I-I didn’t know that was something you thought about,” Oskar says.
Pink colors Dmitri’s cheeks, the shade so pale, I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. He gives a curt nod. “I sit on bus now.” He looks at me. “If you move to Boston, Oskar is good. If not, stay away. I can beat you up.”
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
He flashes his shark-like smile again, then saunters onto the bus, his shoulders moving in full swagger.
“We have lots of international players,” Oskar explains. “Dmitri can be...Dmitri. I think he’s worried about moving back to Russia. I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
More hockey players board the bus, chattering loudly. They’re broader than I am, even without their pads, and I flinch.
Oskar gives me a curious glance.
“Sebastian!” Luke’s voice booms, pulling me from my ever-more intrusive thoughts. “Is everything on the bus?”
“Uh-huh.”
