She slows into a spin, and when the song ends, she’s smiling. Her eyes find mine, and it vanishes. As she breathes hard, we stare at each other across the ice.
I wait for her to give me something, to flip me off, but she doesn’t. She skates to the board to grab a towel and drink from her bottle. The music stops. A few seconds later, she’s pulling off her skates and putting on sneakers, ignoring my existence as she walks toward me. When she’s close, I use the nickname she despises.
“Ken Doll.”
She stops walking and glares at me. “Don’t use that nickname ever again.”
“Or what?”
If looks could kill, I’d be laid out flat.
She tries to step around me, but I block her.
“Get out of my way,Patty.”
Only my teammates can call me that. No one else. Especially not her.
“Cute,” I say. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize I needed to check in with you before I hit the ice.”
She’s impossibly sassy as she glances down at my lips and then back to my eyes. My pulse has no business responding to her after everything.
“Move,” she says. “Now.”
“Manners never were your strong suit, were they? Rules either.”
Annoyance flashes across her face as she takes a step forward, and she’s in my space. I hold my ground even though my skin prickles with awareness.
“I love how my presence bothers you so much,” she mutters. “How long has it been, Pattycakes? Five years? Still butthurt after all this time?”
“Oh, I can hold a grudge for a lifetime. You’ll learn that.”
“Hope you do,” she tells me, but I can see she’s bothered. Her body is tense, and her fingers grip the strap of her bag a little tighter.
“I will. The sooner you’re gone, the better.” I clap my hands together and close my eyes. “Dear Lord, please, if you can hear me, get rid of this bitch.”
She mocks me. “Yes, Lord, he goes by Patty. Dispose of him soon.”
“I want you gone now. I want to forget you exist. Schedule me first so I can get this bullshit over with.”
She laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “You don’t get to dictate my painting schedule.”
Kendall rams her shoulder into mine as she passes, and it’s a good hit, strong and full of power. “You’ll get your session when I’m ready to deal with your rude ass.”
I turn to see her disappearing around the corner.
So much for that promise I made to my sister that I’d try to be nice. I can’t.
I put on my skates and push myself through laps until my thighs ache. My teammates show up around six, and Callan takes one glance at me during warm-ups and skates over, proving why he’s the best man to be captain. He pays attention to detail.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I exhale.
He doesn’t believe me, but he also doesn’t push any further.
Practice is a fucking disaster.
