No. I just can’t remember what fucking name I gave him.
The team plane leaves for Tampa in an hour, so I toss the phone in my duffel and get changed. As I open my front door, I’m surprised to find Alexei sitting there with coffee.
“I saw the news.”
What news? The Twitter accounts picking apart the photos of Ethan and I? The fact that the league I play for would rather I didn’t?
There’s so much good news to pick from today.
As I take the coffee from his hand — heavy on cream, light on sugar, just how I like it — Alexei tries again.
“Is bullshit, you know.”
I look at him for a long moment.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
He snorts and unlocks his SUV using the fob. I toss my bag in the back and jump in the passenger seat. Part of me wants to put up afight, tell him that I’m not interested in spending time with any friend of Ethan’s.
But most of me remembers last night, when he tried to get Ethan to…
I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what he was trying to get Ethan to do. Tell his dad to fuck off? Definitely. Spendmoretime outside with me, not less? Probably yes.
Come out? Like,outout?
“Hey, uh, Alexei?”
“Yes, Jamie?”
“I need you to lay off Cap, okay?”
Given how quickly his head snaps toward me, I’m glad he hasn’t yet pulled into traffic.
“What do you mean?”
“About the article? And what he asked Jack to do? I need you to stop.”
His eyebrows cinch together and a hand angrily hits the steering wheel.
“I don’t fucking get you two.”
Is he…madat me?
“Maybe is because I am Russian. We are more, how you say, passionate. But if I found someone who looks at me like he looks at you, I’d be doing whatever I could to keep that. Not sitting in the back of someone else’s SUV while he talks to the worst father in the history of the world.”
I’m taken aback by his fury, unsure if what I’ve done really merits it.
“AndEthan. Jesus, what a fucking moron. Lives for decades telling nothing but lies, lies, lies. And somehow, by sheer fucking dumb luck, he finds you. And hesawhow it could be. I know he saw it. And what does he want to do? Keep telling fuckinglies.”
Tears burn at my eyes, and for a second I think of yelling back at him, telling him he doesn’t get to be more angry about this than I am. And for now, I’m not letting myself be angry, not letting myself besad. I’m not letting myself beanything, because in about 20 minutes, I’ll have to see him again.
“Back off, Alexei. No one gets to tell Ethan when to come out. Not you, and definitely not me.”
“But if you just told him that youwanthim to, I think he would.”
“Sure. And then in a month or two or six months or a year he can blamemefor losing his family, for losing hockey. No fucking thank you.”
“Losing hockey? Is that not stretching it?”
