Casper flips him off with his glove, glaring at him. “Suck your own dick, Brighton.”
“I probably could; it’s so long.” He cups himself, jiggling his hand with a wink.
“Idiot.” I scoff, skating away from him.
Gliding over to the bench, I grab a water bottle and squeeze it, letting the water flow between my lips. I swallow a few gulps.
A couple of players pass by me, stepping off the ice, bumping my glove with theirs. They mutter different goodbyes, as practice is done for the day.
As I walk to the locker room, I make a mental list of what I have to do before I head to Serena’s tonight.
Shower.
Go home, change clothes, grab my mask and knife.
Sneak into her house.
Hide in her closet.
Wait for her to get home.
I check my phone when I get to the locker room,finding a couple of texts. Leaning against the wall, I read them. She responded to my last message.
I’m back in town. I’ve missed you
Serena: I think you saw a lot of me a couple days ago through your little camera.
Serena: I’m totally hell-bent on finding it by the way
Just the one?
Serena: There‘s more? How many?
It doesn’t matter. If you remove them, I’ll just replace them
There’s almost no delay in her response.
Serena: You have too much time on your hands
I’m actually quite a busy guy. But I’ll always make time for you
Serena: *cue eye roll*
A brat who never learns***
Serena: *cue bigger eye roll*
Keep it up
Serena: Yes, sir
Mmm. Usethat later
Serena: Later? Do we have a date later that I don’t know about?
You’ll see
Before I’m tempted to spoil my plans, I toss my phone on the bench, and I throw my clothes on to head straight home. I’m taking a deep-clean shower when I get there. There’s only so much of the hockey stink I can take off here.
