“No, it’s fine.” I stretch my mouth in what I hope looks like a smile. It doesn’t feel like one. “Do you have time now?” No pointin putting this off—I’ll only spend the night dreading it, and meditation definitely won’t work then.
On the other hand, I’m definitely going to need some zen after one-on-one time with Ari.
“I do. Thank you.” He doesn’t look any more enthused than I am. “How… That is, where do we start?”
Great question. I scratch my chest and think about it, then duck as someone’s socks go flying past my head. “Let’s go to the players’ lounge,” I suggest. “It’ll be more comfortable.” And there’s less chance of being hit by stinky hosiery.
Ari steps back so I can stand, then says, “Lead the way. I’m still learning my way around.”
Okay, that’s a good starting point and delaying tactic. “Have you been given a tour of the facilities down here?” I’m sure he’s been shown everything in the corporate office already.
He shakes his head. “No, just the offices.”
Great! “Okay, well… welcome to the dressing room. So named because it’s where we get dressed and undressed.”
“How creative,” he says, deadpan, and I’m not actually sure if he’s making a joke or just has no personality. I make a noise that should work for either scenario.
“Through there,” I point, “is a more traditional locker room where we keep our stuff—wallets, keys, coats in winter, any bags we might have brought with us.” I shrug. “I can show you, but it’s boring as fuck.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” His expression hasn’t changed, and I’m starting to get annoyed.Just a little longer.
“Showers are here,” I lead the way to the showers, mostly because I want to needle him now, and Kircic will still be in there. He likes to put on a show, so he’s usually the first in and the last out, being as exhibitionist as possible without actually crossing any lines that would get him a meeting with HR. Being the quirkiest person on a team that’s half hellhounds is a bigfeat, and Kircic is determined to take that title. “As you can see, there’s nothing fancy.”
“I’m sure—Oh. Uhhh…”
I turn away to hide my grin. Guess I owe Kircic a thank-you. He normally irritates the shit out of me, but today he’s done me a solid… so to speak.
“The bathrooms are this way. Don’t go down there if you can avoid it,” I warn. The whole facility has that special kind of ingrained funk that can only come from years of use by professional athletes who put effort into sweating as much as possible, but the bathrooms have their own unique—dare I say, next-level—stench. It doesn’t matter how extra-strength the bleach is, it doesn’t stand a chance.
Ari glances down the hallway, his nose twitching slightly. Elves don’t have as good a sense of smell as shifters, but the way his mouth sets and his complexion goes a little green tells me it’s good enough. “Thanks for the warning.”
I mentally kick myself. I could have “accidentally” given him the wrong directions and sent him down there. That’s a real missed opportunity.
“Around here”—I lead him to the other side of the dressing room—“is where the ice baths are. There’s also a nook thing where the trainers can work on us, but their main area is off the weight room. And there’s the equipment room. Stay out of it or risk wrath.”
He nods. “Noted.”
Glancing around, I decide there isn’t anything else in here I can show him, not without it becoming obvious that I’m procrastinating. But speaking of procrastination… “Any questions before we move on?”
“About the showers and the locker room? Why don’t I just save all my questions to the end?” The snide edge to the words makes me seriously regret not giving him the full tour of thebathroom… and maybe shoving his head in a toilet. My hands itch with the need to form fists, but I flex my fingers and shake them out. If I could resist decking my idiot teammates during practice, I can keep myself from belting this arrogant ass of an elf.
“Let’s go, then.”
Out in the main hallway, I set a brisk pace, pointing out the coaching offices, the video room, the weight room and trainers’ domain, and the players’ lounge. I hesitate at the door as something occurs to me. “Have you seen the rink?”
“No. Just the offices and this… tour.”
Fuck the lounge, then. I turn around. “This way.”
“I don’t need to see the rink,” he protests from behind me. “It’s not really relevant to what I’ll be doing here.”
I stop dead and spin to face him. Is he fucking serious? “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you here to try to interest more people in hockey?”
He shrugs, and for the first time, I see a hint of awkwardness. “Yes.”
“Then trust me, the rink is relevant to what you’ll be doing. Seeing as it’s where the whole damn game is played.”
Ari doesn’t reply, but his jaw tightens a little, and I take that as a victory.
