The two of them exchanged shifty glances. Petrov cleared his throat. “You missed the team lunch.”
“Yeah.” Davis nodded. “You’ve been MIA since we got back from Toronto. We got worried.”
“So we followed you,” Petrov added with an unapologetic shrug. Asshole. “We figured if we could corner you when you were sneaking out to meet with your mystery girlfriend, you wouldn’t be able to run away from us.”
I stared at them, warring with anger and disbelief. “You followed me? Like a couple of fucking stalkers?”
Davis rolled his eyes. “No. Like a couple of teammates who give a shit about you. And here we all are.” He glanced around us. “No mystery girlfriend in sight. I have to say, when we came up with our plan, we never expected to find you coaching a kid at a community rink.”
They’d been watching my session. Fuck. I could feel my face heating. Why had they decided to come after me? Didn’t they know there was a reason I’d been avoiding their calls and texts?
“How long were you watching?”
“The whole time. Fuck, Clements. You were incredible with that kid,” Petrov said.
Davis nodded. “Seriously. You were great.”
“It’s just a side thing. Extra money.” The lie tasted like ash in my mouth.
Davis raised his brows. “Yeah? How much do you charge?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How. Much?”
I mumbled a figure that was barely enough to cover ice time and equipment. Didn’t cover it sometimes, if I were truthful.
His jaw dropped. “Fucking hell, Clements. That’s nothing.”
“Yeah, so? I would’ve done it for free, but the parents won’t let me. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“I get it.” Petrov nodded. “I coach my nephew and his buddy twice a week. I don’t charge them anything because they’re family, but you know what? I’d still coach them for free, even if they weren’t.”
“I grew up without much money,” Davis began hesitantly, and we both turned to face him. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to remind me of the mansion, and the flash cars, and— Whatever. I work hard for those things. My point is, I know what it’s like when your parents can’t afford the expensive coaching, the elite programs, the equipment…everything we take for granted. If someone had done for me what you’re doing for that kid…”
“I don’t?—”
“We understand.” Petrov’s voice was firm. “Believe us.”
I exhaled unsteadily. Neither of them had mocked me or sneered at the fact that I was doing this. Instead, they seemed…interested? “I coach four of them,” I found myself saying. “One-on-one.”
“Yeah?” Davis smiled. “That’s awesome, man.”
“You don’t think it’s weird that I’m spending my free time teaching teenagers instead of…I dunno, whatever you guys think I do?”
Petrov laughed. “Half the team thinks you’re out fucking some mystery woman every night. The other half thinks you’re a grumpy bastard who hates us all. The truth’s way better than either of those options.”
He wasn’t wrong about the grumpy bastard part, although hate? Fucking hell, that was a strong word.
“I—I don’t hate you,” I muttered, staring down at my gloved hands.
“We know. I was joking…kinda. What I meant was, you’ve never been interested in spending time with us unless you have to.”
There was an awkward silence where it seemed like none of us knew what to say. He was right, but I couldn’t admit it aloud. Why couldn’t I be normal? Why couldn’t I fucking communicate with people? Why did I have to isolate myself all the time?
Davis broke the silence, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell us? I can’t speak for the rest of the team, but I can speak for me and Dimitri at least. We could’ve helped you out, if you needed it. And I’m sure the team would’ve supported you.”
I shook my head. “It’s— I didn’t want it getting out. Didn’t want it to turn into some made-up PR story about redemptionor whatever. This is private. These kids don’t need the fucking media showing up at their sessions.”
