"No."
It’s immediate, uncompromising, and completely unexpected. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone answer with such a definitive decision.
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean no… I won’t."
Something about the finality of it catches me off guard. It shouldn’t take me off guard based on his reputation with women, but even the biggest players assume they will settle down… eventually. "Why?" I ask and then realize that maybe he can’t. "Are you… unable to?"
He looks back out at the rink, where a little girl is struggling to remove her gloves, her dad kneeling patiently in front of her.
"I don’t know, but I don’t plan on finding out," he says. "I don’t go without a condom."
I blink, surprised into a short laugh. "Well. That’s… thorough."
He doesn’t smile.
"What if you meet someone who wants kids?" I ask.
"I won’t meet anyone," he says. "That’s not the plan."
My phone vibrates in my pocket before I can ask a follow-up question. I pull it out and glance down. Carey calling…
Of all the times my cell service decides to work properly in this place, it’s conveniently right now. I silenced it without thinking and slid it back into my pocket.
"You need to take that?" Luka asks.
"No," I say quickly. "It’s not important."
His eyes flick to my pocket. "She’s your boss, right?"
I frown. "Temporarily, yes, and she likes to remind me."
"She calls late," he says.
"How do you know that?" I ask.
"Your phone lights up. You sleep through it. I don’t."
"I’m sorry if she woke you up. Our relationship is… complicated."
"Why is helping me so important to you, Natalia? Why did you fly all the way to Switzerland on your own dime? It can’t just be the money."
My eyebrows crease together. How could he know that?
"How did you know I paid for my flight?"
"Randolph’s got a big mouth. Be careful what you tell him if you don’t want anyone to know."
This is the moment I should tell him. Luka can smell disingenuous people, and I’m losing time. Being honest about losing my job is the only thing I haven’t tried.
"Luka… I—" I start.
The call ends and then she calls again.
He stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "You should take that. I have to hit the gym. The playoffs are in three months. Bye-week is a good opportunity to get lazy."
"Right… the playoffs," I say.
