Page 68 of Puck Me Back to Life

I blow a breath out of my nose. “Don't say anything to Kai.”

“Oh, Kai, huh?” Dante smiles.

My eyes slide over to him with enough threat in them that he puts his hands up.

“Fine. But also pretty girl aside, I genuinely like Hayes.”

The correction comes a second later. “Kai.”

The name sounds more natural this time. Like he's testing it out. Like he's decided Hayes isn't just some quiet teammate sitting in the corner anymore.

The version of Kai that most people know isn't the real one. They know the headlines. The guy who keeps his head down and leaves immediately after practice. They don't know the dry humor. They don't know how passionate he gets talking about books. They don't know how funny he is when he's comfortable.

Hell, they don't even know how smart he is.

I've only been figuring those things out myself recently.

Dante steals a wing from the basket. “I think he's finally starting to relax around people.”

The comment pulls my attention toward the bar. Kai is standing over there after leaving his fortress of the bathroom. He laughs at something the bartender says. The sound carries across the room.

It's strange how different he looks when he's relaxed. His shoulders aren't pulled so tight. His expression softens. Even his smile changes.

Dante follows my gaze. “See?”

I look back at him. “Hm?”

“You're staring at him again. I can't believe you think you're being subtle.”

I don't bother arguing. Dante would simply continue until one of us died. Probably me.

Kai returns a moment later carrying another beer. He slides into the booth beside Dante. The seating arrangement somehow irritates me immediately.

I decide not to examine why.

The conversation picks back up.

Movies.

Books.

Hockey.

Angela.

Dante spends fifteen minutes workshopping potential opening lines if he ever meets her. Every single one is terrible. Kai tells him so repeatedly. Dante remains undeterred.

By the time the next round of drinks disappears, Kai is visibly more relaxed. The effect is surprisingly contagious.

At some point I realize I'm enjoying myself.

Not because of the bar.

Not because of the game on television.

Because of the people sitting across from me.

I haven't had many nights like this recently.