Shane ducked his head, which meant his cheeks were turning pink.
Wyatt suddenly appeared in front of them and leaned one elbow on the boards. “How’s it going, fellas?”
“Shhh. Shane is watching the men set up pylons.”
“Would you fuck off?” Shane snarled.
Wyatt glanced at the ice. “That’s cool. The ice crew’s hard work isn’t appreciated enough. Except the Zamboni drivers. Talk about all-stars.” He slapped the boards. “There should be a Zamboni competition. With obstacles and stuff.”
Ilya blinked at his goalie. “Yes. Great idea, Hazy.”
“Congrats on winning the skating thing, Shane.”
“Thanks.”
“It was a tie, basically,” Ilya said.
“That’s not what the clock said,” Shane argued.
“If we did it again right now, I would probably win.”
“Well, you should have won the first time, dickhead.”
Wyatt furrowed his brow at them. “You know, you two don’t have to sit together.”
“Hello, Hunter,” Ilya said cheerfully as he sat in the chair next to Scott Hunter. A bunch of the players were gathered in the hotel bar, most of them sitting at large tables.
“Rozanov,” Scott said with a wary nod.
Ilya plunked his pint of beer on the table and leaned back in his chair. “Too bad about the thing you lost.”
Scott huffed. “The stickhandling event is stupid anyway. It’s designed to make us look bad.”
“Mm. Someone still won, though.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t win your event either. Hollander smoked you.”
“Was basically a tie.”
Scott took a sip of his own beer and seemed to glance around for someone else to talk to. Finally he sighed and said, “Your team’s been playing well lately.”
It was an understatement. Ottawa had been on fire since returning from their nearly ill-fated trip to Florida, and was enjoying a franchise-record winning streak. “We’re making the playoffs this year,” Ilya said.
“Might be a bit early to be stating that as fact.”
“I don’t think so. We are very good. Remember when we beat you? We haven’t lost since then. Since that time we beat you.”
Scott snorted. “Man, you’re annoying.”
Ilya grinned. “Hollander told me you want to coach our camps.”
“One of them, maybe. Yeah.”
“What are your qualifications? We have a boring guy already: Hollander.”
“You know what? I might be busy this summer after all.”
Ilya nudged him. “We are happy to have you. Really. The kids will be very excited.”
