“We come in all shapes and sizes. Maybe don’t judge a bisexual by my sexy cover.”
“He’s going to be insufferable about this, isn’t he?” Seaborn asks.
“You have no idea,” I scrub a hand over my face.
“I’m going to make being bisexual half my personality, which is fitting because bi means half.”
Seaborn drops his head back. “Not with the jokes.”
“You did this.” I lift up on my toes and kiss him.
“No!” Seaborn stabs a finger into my chest. “You did this by dickmatizing him.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, not sure how but suddenly feeling the need to hold onto Wolfe tighter so he can’t disappear.
“Wait, what’s the other half of your personality? Goalie?” Seaborn asks.
“It’s obviously cunt.”
“I was going to say Kool-Aid Man.” I say, and I grin when Wolfe glares.
THIRTY-SEVEN
ARCHANGEL
Coach sits us down at the next practice to go over the brackets.
“If we make it to the final, we’ll be up against the Monsters again.”
“You think they’ll make it?” Wolfe has worked his way in behind Coach Hawke and is two inches from the board, studying it.
Hawke jumps. “When the fuck did you get back there?”
“I’m like nine feet tall. How did you miss me?”
“You’re fucking sneaky, and you know it,” Hawke mutters and moves away from Wolfe.
“It is part of my goalie powers.” Wolfe laughs but then returns his intense focus on the board. “You think they can beat Colorado?”
“If Ktytor keeps playing like he has been, I know they will. Who’s going to shut him down?”
“True.” Wolfe nods. “I think we can get to the finals. The first two games will be easy. It’s the semi-finals we’ll need to watch out for.”
“We need to take it all seriously. I don’t want Archangel putting in a ton of time until he has to.”
“I’m fine,” I say, annoyed.
“Good call. We can’t have him out for the final, and other teams will go after him,” Wolfe says, betraying me.
I just stare at him, but he won’t meet my eyes.
For the next week,Hawke works us to the bone. We don’t even have the energy to fuck by the time we get home each night. The schedule is grueling, and the stress eats everyone alive the closer we get to the first game. A lot of this is going to change how the draft works, and it’s like an invisible weight tied to all of us. Eligible or not, the rest of the guys know that how they play could make or break things for their teammates.
I hate it. I don’t remember it being this bad in years past, but maybe I just wasn’t paying close enough attention.
I’m just glad the first game is here.
Wolfe spends the day going through his rituals. Seaborn and I spend the entire day watching for any sign that one doesn’t go as planned, but they seem to go off without any issues.
