Especially when Kayleigh or one of the other girls comes up and offers me their fakest laughs and biggest smiles as if I get off on fake pleasantries.
It sucks for them. A month ago, I probably would have invited both of them to a hotel room with me. We could have enjoyed each other’s company and gone our separate ways, feeling satisfied and victorious.
It’s too bad for them that a five-foot-three blonde with permanent pink on her cheeks has burrowed under my skin and stayed there like a nuisance.
When it’s the end of the day, and Honor is packing up her things, I walk over and lean on the wall. “Did your husband tell you I’m working with the team finally?”
I have no doubt in my mind they’re the kind of couple who tell each other everything. I’m sure when they both get home, they share gossip while rubbing one another’s feet with googly eyes full of love plastered on their faces.
I’ll never forget the first time I went to a barbecue at their house with the rest of the guys from the Fireflies shortly after the news broke about the new team. It was similar to what Bodhi and I have gone to in the past with our former teams. It’s a bonding experience, as if we don’t see the boys enough duringthe season to begin with. It was obvious watching them that Honor and Bodhi are in the sickening kind of love.
Honor zips up her camera bag and throws it over her shoulder before reaching down to scratch between her dog’s ears. I’m trying to remember what kind of service animal he is without coming out and asking like an asshole.
Saying,“Hey, what’s wrong with you that you need a dog?”probably doesn’t come across very well. Not that I’m known for my politeness, but I like Honor.
“He did,” she confirms. “He’s relieved that Mikhail agreed to have you come in. He was starting to worry that you wouldn’t see ice time.”
It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. “I was feeling the same way,” I admit, feeling a pair of eyes on me from across the room.
I don’t turn to Winter or let on that I can feel her staring. Instead, I gesture toward the golden retriever sitting idly on the floor. “Do you mind if I ask what he’s for?”
I’m pretty sure Hoffman told me once, but I’ll be damned if I can remember. I’ll be the first to admit that a lot of conversations I have with people are in one ear and out the other. I can’t always find the energy to care. If I’m at big events, I’m usually thinking about when I can finally leave them.
“Puck is a seizure detection and alert animal,” she explains with an unoffended smile. “He’s been a big part of my life for years. Huh, buddy?”
The dog looks up at her with his fluffy, dark yellow tail brushing happily against the ground.
Seizure detection.It rings a bell hearing her husband explain it to a few guys and me when we went over to their place earlier this year. “How did you get him?”
The question is out before I can process it, and the surprise and concern on her face are evident. Her voice lowers when she asks, “Are you okay? Is there—”
“I’m not asking for me,” I quickly explain, studying the dog’s vest that has “working dog” and “do not touch” in bold lettering on the back. Wetting my lips, I peel my eyes off him and back over to Honor. “I’m just curious.”
We both know I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t matter to me, but she indulges me in an answer anyway. And only when Honor passes me a piece of paper with a website to look into and phone numbers I can call do I feel satisfied enough to stop pressing for information.
“I’ll see you around,” I tell her, slipping the paper into my back pocket and waving her and Puck off.
When I walk over to Winter, there’s a shadow on her face. “We’ll wrap up, and then you can go.” She passes me Oreo, who looks none too pleased to be given to me. “Here. I’ll let you deal with her. If you haven’t already, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to post with her and show that you adopted from the shelter. It’ll make you look better.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care about that.”
She deadpans, “The whole point of this is to make you look more human and less—”
“Douchey?” I guess, knowing that’s one of her favorite descriptors of me. “I didn’t adopt Oreo to come off more believable.”
Winter pauses, hesitating with a nibble to her inner cheek as if she doesn’t want to ask me the real reason. Curiosity wins out. “Then why did you get her if not for the attention?”
“To be a little less lonely.”
I deliver the answer with a limp, nonchalant shrug that she gapes at.
“But,” I add quietly, running a hand down Oreo’s spine, “you already knew that. It’s just easier for you to see me as the bad guy.”
She closes her eyes. “I never said that.”
I tug on a strand of her hair lightly, only enough to get her to look at me again. “You didn’t need to.”
This time, she says nothing.
