“Anything to rid me of that woman is fine by me.”
Kirby almost smiles before returning his full attention to his task.
“I think I’ll get a shower while you finish up.” Shaking my head, I hurry back to my bedroom. Kirby is a different guy, and sometimes I really don’t know how to take him. His Native American heritage is important to him, and I respect that, even if I don’t understand it.
* * *
When I return about a half hour later, Kirby is sitting on a stool at the counter. The windows are still open, and the smell of sage lingers in the air. My roommate’s head is buried in his tablet, which is unusual. Kirby isn’t much for being online, but something definitely has his undivided attention. I’m still flying high from the win last night and not overly concerned.
I pour a cup of strong coffee and join him at the counter.
We head to Colorado next for the first two games in the first round of the playoffs. Damn, that feels good to say. We fly in tomorrow in order to have one day to acclimate before we start the grind that’s the playoffs. Postseason hockey is not for the faint of heart, or so I’ve heard.
“Let’s play a little one-on-one after we work out,” I suggest to Kirby.
“Sure.” Kirby doesn’t lift his head. He’s immersed in something he’s reading or watching.
Curious, I lean over to look. He holds his tablet out so it’s easier to read.
“I’m guessing we know who she’s referring to.”
I read the article full of bullshit accusations and lies. I’m angry that she’s capitalizing on our surging popularity to further her own agenda.
“I’d say me, but I didn’t go out clubbing last night. You know that. Nor did I pick up three women. Fuck, I didn’t even pick up one woman. And I’m fucking not a problem in the locker room.”
“It has to be someone else.”
“It’s no one else. I’m the one she’s always going after. She makes this shit up if she can’t exploit some small fact into an outrageous story. She didn’t name anyone on purpose because none of us did this.”
Kirby rubs his chin and regards me thoughtfully. “I know you didn’t do those things, but you’re right, she’s referring to you.”
I growl with frustration. This woman is pushing me too far. I’m so fed up with her. “Damn it.”
“You know how to shut her up, right?”
“Yeah, play my game and not let the noise get to me, especially her brand of disruptive noise.” I draw in a deep breath and turn to Kirby with renewed determination. I’m finally in the playoffs. I will not allow her to ruin this for me. I’ve never been in the playoffs. My former team was a bottom dweller with no signs of improving any time soon. It gives me great pleasure that I’m playing in the playoffs, and they’re not.
“Hopefully, this’ll all blow over before practice tomorrow.”
“Hopefully.” I don’t hold out hope because Aria is ruthless, driven, and evil. She’ll do whatever she can to bring me down.
“What’s her issue with you anyway?”
“Hell if I know. I guess she had to pick someone, and I’m it. Sucks to be me.” I laugh, but it’s a hollow sound and almost pathetic. Right now, it does suck to be me. I might’ve had an assist last night, but I’m not at the top of my game, and that’s where I need to be to help this team go deep in the playoffs. Everyone’s already counting us out. They expect us to lose four straight to Colorado. Over my dead body.
“Her previous article about us making the playoffs was incredible.”
“I know. I had to look at the byline to make sure it was actually written by her. It was so out of character.”
Kirby snorts and nods his agreement. “Very much so, but there’s something else going on with her. I don’t think she’s a bad person.”
“And how can you make that judgment based on the limited info we have?”
“She’s devoted to her nephew, and he clearly adores her.”
I can’t argue with that. I guess every evil person has one positive quality, but I won’t give her any more credit than that.
* * *
