Fabian’s brow furrowed. “The fights are planned in advance?”
“No, no, not like that. But if we’re going to be playing a team with another enforcer, chances are pretty good that I’ll have to fight him.”
“Because you...hate each other?”
Ryan sighed and set the laptop on his nightstand. “No. I don’t have a problem with Duncan Harvey or anyone else.”
“So why would you fight him?”
“It’s part of the game.”
Fabian made a face. “I don’t understand why you would punch someone for no reason. I won’t pretend to be an expert, but aren’t hockey fights an in-the-heat-of-the-moment thing?”
“That’s usually it. Sometimes our star player gets attacked somehow, and then I have to fight the guy who did it. Or maybe I have to fight that team’s enforcer. It’s like...” Ryan tried to think of the word. “It’s like we’re proxies, maybe?”
Fabian’s mouth quirked up. “You’re like knights. You fight on behalf of your king’s honor.”
“I guess. Except my king at the moment is a fucking asshole.”
“Kings usually are.” Fabian rested his head on Ryan’s thigh and gazed up at him. “So tomorrow night, you are going to beat up a man you have no problem with to protect a man you hate?”
Ryan threaded his fingers through Fabian’s hair, which made him sigh happily. “You make it sound stupid.”
“It’sverystupid.”
He stroked Fabian’s hair in silence for a while. The soothing, repeating motion was making Ryan feel drowsy, which was a welcome sensation.
“I don’t like thinking about you fighting.”
Ryan’s fingers paused for a moment, then resumed their stroking. “Me neither.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Hey. Duncan.”
Duncan Harvey glanced up at Ryan from where he was stretching on the ice near the center line. Ryan wasn’ttechnicallysupposed to be talking to his opponents during warm-ups, but he was hoping he could maybe stop a pointless fight before it happened.
Duncan spat on the ice and said, “What?”
Ryan bent at the waist so he was closer to the other man’s face. Duncan had noticeable bags under his eyes. “I just wanted to say, we don’t have to fight tonight.”
Duncan shifted so he was up on one knee. “The fuck are you talking about?”
Their faces were inches apart, and Ryan was sure it was getting the attention of the crowd, so he backed off a bit. “Just saying. We don’t have to.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Yes, Ryanwouldlike that. That was sort of his point. But he skated away without replying.
“How’s your buddy Duncan?” Wyatt asked when Ryan got down on the ice next to him to stretch. “Does he like your new haircut?”
“I think he wants to fight.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like him.”
Ryan grunted as he deepened his hamstring stretch. “He doesn’t look good. He’s sweaty and the game hasn’t even started.”
“Just worry about yourself.” Wyatt’s tone was uncharacteristically serious. “I’m not kidding, Pricey. If he wants to fight, end it as fast as possible. Did you see that last fight, against what’s-his-name in Calgary?”
