Page 125 of Two for Roughing

“How’s Artemis?”

The change of subject worked. “She’s wonderful. We couldn’t bring her tonight, but I’ll head over to Phil’s before midnight so I can be with her and Phil and Ben for the fireworks. You know, Breezy got me the best Secret Santa gift. He got me signed up as a patron for a pet shelter. I’m going to go there and meet a bunch of dogs next week.”

“Sounds perfect for you,” Kilian told him.

They made their way indoors again, Tom telling him about all the animals he’d seen on the shelter’s website.

Kilian deposited Tom with Jax, who smiled indulgently as soon as he heard what Tom was talking about. Soon enough, Lissy appeared next to them with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Kilian turned to find his boyfriend. Jax and Tom could give Lissy pointers on captaining queer teammates. That seemed like a just punishment for whatever nonissue Tom had been trying to apologize for.

Damir sat ensconced between Fedorov and Dmitriyev with Abrahamov opposite them, speaking in fast-paced Russian. Or maybe it wasn’t fast-paced, but it sounded quick to Kilian, consonants blurring together in ways he couldn’t get his tongue to move.

He hoped they were being nice. Dmitriyev had said a few off-color things about Damir being Tatar, claiming it made him less Russian. He apologized to Kilian for it once, but Kilian didn’t know if he’d meant it.

“Denisov stop your Russian lessons,” Dmitriyev said with a disapproving tut. “You learn nothing.”

Damir’s eyebrows went up. “You were learning Russian?”

“Just a few words. Then I got traded and…”

“Hm.” Damir’s speculative expression gave Kilian pause. If he started using Russian to order Kilian around in bed, Kilian would be screwed. In a very good way.

“You good?” Kilian asked, taking the seat next to Damir’s.

Damir gave him a wordless smile.

“I apologize,” Dmitriyev announced. “For things I say about Tatars. I know is bad.”

“It sounded better in Russian,” Damir told Kilian. “I think he had to go to a sensitivity training.”

“Yes, with Kayleigh.” Dmitriyev added a few other things in Russian to Fedorov, who nodded enthusiastically. They fell into their native language again, presumably chatting about Kayleigh and whatever she’d had them do in their training. Every now and again, Damir added something. His voice was lower in Russian, and Kilian enjoyed the rumble of it.

Damir rested an arm over the back of Kilian’s chair. Kilian leaned into it, enjoying the idea of Damir being casually possessive.

“You should mingle,” Damir suggested after a while. “Spend time with your old team.”

“But I like spending time with you.” Kilian wasn’t proud of the whine in his voice.

Damir’s fingers whispered across the bit of skin where Kilian’s shirt collar revealed the chain of his necklace. “Don’t worry. I plan to spend a lot of time together.”

The words were innocuous, but the tone of his voice sent a heated shiver down Kilian’s spine. “All right, I’m going before you start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” Damir called after him. Kilian shot him what he hoped was a heated look in return.

When he reached the loose group Mooney, Breezy, and Luca had formed with Ketchup, Matheson, and Fulls, Luca told him in his driest tone, “Flirt less obviously.”

“Right back atcha,” Kilian said, glancing at the way Luca’s knuckles brushed against Breezy’s every time he moved. For the very first time, he got to feel, if not superior, at least roughly equal to Luca.

It was one of those nights people talked about years later. The owner of the bar turned out to be a hockey fan. So as the evening grew later, and people started moving on toward second locations, he opened a makeshift table hockey game on one of the high tops by the bar. Whoever managed to deke an ice cube through the glasses with a cocktail stirrer got a free shot. Ketchup was the undeniable champion and thus was extremely drunk.

Tom begged off around eleven to be with his dog, and Jax let him go with an overdramatic pre-midnight kiss, dipping him low before planting one on him. “There’s more where that came from when I get home!” Jax called after him as he left, flushed and smiling despite himself.

“You let your man celebrate the New Year alone?” Lissy asked, scandalized.

“He’s not alone; he’s with Phil. And he hates crowds,” Jax defended.

“But—”

“Where’s Céline right now?” Damir asked.