“You should design my next tattoo,” Ilya said. “Like, a cool animal.”
Luca stared at him. “Are you serious?”
Ilya shrugged. He hadn’t thought much about his next possible tattoo, but it would be nice to have one designed by a teammate. “Sure.”
“That is a lot of pressure,” Luca said.
“If it is too much I will get someone else to do it,” Ilya teased. “D, do you want to design my tattoo?”
Dykstra grinned. “You want a stickman or a heart?”
Luca stood and stretched his back, twisting from side to side. “I am getting another beer.”
“Get a pitcher,” Ilya said. “We can share.”
“Oh,” Luca said, then he smiled. “Yes, okay.”
Now that the art show was over the other guys started to leave the table to mingle. By the time Luca returned with the pitcher and a stack of glasses, Ilya was the only one left.
“So,” Ilya said after Luca had sat down, “how are you enjoying being the fan favorite?”
Luca poured himself a beer. “I am not the favorite. You are, of course.”
“I am old news. You are new and exciting.”
“I am new and nervous. And probably disappointing.”
“Disappointing? How? You have been playing less than four months.”
Luca’s eyebrows rose above his glasses. “How many goals did you score in your first four months in the NHL?”
Ilya smiled and took a sip of beer. He didn’t need to answer. He was sure Luca knew.
Luca sighed. “I should not compare myself to...” He waved a hand at Ilya. “Of course you are the best.”
“Of course,” Ilya agreed playfully.
Luca leaned forward, and for the first time Ilya noticed that he did seem a bit drunk. “I had your poster on my wall. When I was a kid.”
“When you were a kid,” Ilya teased. “Like when? Last year? Four months ago?”
Luca huffed and took a sip of beer.
“Which poster was it? Did I look handsome?”
“You always look—” Luca’s cheeks flushed bright red. “It was just a hockey picture. With all your gear.”
Ilya mentally filed that slip-up under Interesting. “Is the poster still on your wall?” he asked. “Be honest.”
“No.”
“Did you bring it with you? I can sign it if you like.”
Luca laughed and shook his head. “Yes. I have it over my bed,” he said sarcastically.
“This will be distracting for people you are trying to have sex with.”
Luca laughed again, this time more of a shocked sputter. “Maybe that is the problem.”
Ilya leaned in. “Problem?”
“Nothing. I was joking.” Luca pressed his lips together and looked away, as if deciding whether or not to admit something. Then he said, to his beer, “It is hard to meet people to, um, do that with. Lately.”
Ilya had not expected to be pulled into a conversation about sex with his rookie, but he supposed he was an expert. “Is it? Do you go out? Or use apps? I am sure most of Ottawa wants to fuck you.”
Luca coughed. “That is, um—I have tried apps a bit, yes.”
“No luck?”
“Not really. I am a bit nervous about meeting people.”
Ilya smiled. “No shit.”
“You never had this problem, I am guessing.”
“No,” Ilya said honestly. “But it can be...complicated. Being very young and famous and wanting sex but wanting to be, um...” He searched for the right word. “Careful?”
Luca nodded. “Yes. Careful.”
“I was maybe not so concerned with careful,” Ilya said. “I had a lot of sex with many people.”
Luca’s cheeks pinked. “Yes. I have heard.”
“Was fine. No problems. Most people want to hook up and move on with no drama. Even when you are famous.”
Luca fiddled with a coaster. “I am not so much looking for hookups.”
“Oh. You don’t like sex?”
Luca turned redder. “I like it, yes. I am, um, particular. Maybe. Or shy. I don’t know.” He let out a nervous giggle. “This is not a conversation I thought I would have with you.”
Ilya grinned. “But I am right beside your bed, watching you have sex!”
“Dude! I did not just hear that!”
Ilya turned to see Dykstra standing behind him, laughing. “Stop spying.”
“Stop watching the rookies have sex, then?”
Ilya glared at him. “He has a poster of me. Is a joke.”
Dykstra’s brow furrowed, and he looked at Luca. “You have a poster of Roz beside your bed?”
“No! When I was a kid I did.”
Dykstra laughed. “Dude, you are a kid.”
“I am older than I look,” Luca explained with the earnestness of a drunk twenty-year-old.
“Yeah,” said Dykstra. “My one-year-old daughter is older than you look.” He laughed at his own joke. “Speaking of which, I’m out.” He fist-bumped both of them, then headed toward the exit.
“You look older than one,” Ilya assured Luca.
Luca snorted and shook his head. “They say never meet your heroes.”
Ilya grinned and decided he liked this kid a lot.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I don’t know what you are trying to prove,” Ilya said.
“That I’m the fastest skater in the league. Obviously.”
Ilya huffed. There was no way Shane was the fastest skater in the league. Even if it were a competition between only the two of them, Ilya had always been considered the faster skater. He could admit that Shane was a better stick handler, but Ilya was faster. No question.
“We will see,” Ilya said.
They were sitting together on the Eastern Conference team bench at the NHL All-Star Skills Competition, which was mostly a fun night that no one took too seriously. No one except Shane Hollander.
Shane and Ilya liked to enter the same event each year, so they could compete directly. The league liked that too, as did the fans. For whatever reason, Shane had wanted to enter the fastest skater competition this year. Ilya suspected it had a lot to do with Shane’s impending thirtieth birthday.