“Where do you live?”

“Bridgeland.”

“I go to school there. Central State.”

“No way.”

“Way.” I laughed. Then realized I wasn’t talking to Drew.

“Wayne’s World was a little before your time, wasn’t it?” Jason’s eyes scanned my face, as if estimating my age.

“You knew that?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s a classic.”

“Party on, Jason.” I held my fist out.

“Party on, Auden.” He grinned, bumping his knuckles with mine.

The pale blue eyes peeking out from under the faded navy Detroit Tigers baseball cap on his head were kind and familiar. It didn’t feel like I was talking to a stranger, more like hanging out with an old friend. I wasn’t looking to ditch Aleksandr for him, but I’d bet Jason Taylor got his fair share of the ladies.

Not that Aleksandr was mine to ditch. A Christmas gift and a drunken make out wouldn’t mean much to a guy like him. We hadn’t spoken since I’d snuck out of his apartment early the following morning. Waking him up at six-thirty just to say goodbye seemed rude, so I left. No big deal. That’s what I kept telling myself. But I’d probably messed everything up by sneaking out. Stupid, ingrained flight mentality.

“Have you ever been to Johnny’s?” I asked. “I’m a server there.”

“I knew you looked familiar. I thought it was because I saw you send Aleks down in flames when he hit on you in Canada.”

“Someone has to put him in his place.” I laughed. “Ask for me next time you’re there. Coffee’s on Johnny.”

“Coffee’s always on Johnny. I’m a cop. She keeps us awake for free.”

That was true. Johnny always let the cops drink coffee for free. She said it was her civic duty to help them stay focused on protecting and serving the community. I thought it was because she had a thing for guys in uniform.

The Pilots and their opponent, the Providence Bruins, skated into their positions for the opening face-off. Aleksandr was the left wing on the first line. When the referee dropped the puck, I scooted to the edge of my seat and stayed there for the first twelve minutes of the period, watching the furious pace of the game.

“Shit!” I slammed back against my seat when the Bruins scored.

“You’re pretty intense,” Jason said.

I jumped, having forgotten Jason was there. And conversing with me.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I get excited. Edgy,” I said, hoping my cheeks weren’t announcing the wave of embarrassment washing over me.

“No, it’s cool. I can see why Varenkov picked you over any of them.” He nodded to the bunnies. “Plus, you can understand what he says.”

“Well, I doubt he does much talking with bunnies anyway.”

“True.” Jason shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “He usually just ignores them.”

“Don’t most guys, after they’ve slept with someone?” I joked, remembering Drew’s warning that Aleksandr was a dick to bunnies he’d slept with. Was I in for the same treatment? When I glanced over, Jason stared at me like I had snakes wriggling from my head. Guess he didn’t like my grouping “most guys” into the jerk category. “Some guys?”

“Aleksandr doesn’t sleep with bunnies. He doesn’t even talk to them,” Jason said.

“Sure.” I winked conspiratorially. “When we met, he told me he could have a different bunny every night of the week.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, he could. But he doesn’t.”

“He’s a total player,” I argued, sliding to the edge of my seat.

“Who told you that?”

“I, he, I don’t know. I just assumed by what an ass he is and how many sexual comments he makes.”

“You assumed he was a player because he acts like a twenty-one-year-old male.”

I opened my mouth and closed it without speaking because Jason was right. I’d assumed Aleksandr was a player because of his stupid pickup line at the bar and his cockiness. He had the similar arrogant air of the guys I’d been burned by in the past.

“Look, I don’t know Varenkov as well as my brother does, but Landon told me he’s never brought a girl back to their place. Especially not one of them.” He nodded to the bunnies again.

“Oh,” I said, though it came out so soft that Jason may not have heard it. I leaned back into my seat and focused on the action on the ice. Ready to stick with what I know.

How the hell had the hot Russian hockey god never hooked up with a bouncing-breasted bunny?

When the game ended, Jason and I both stood and cheered with the rest of the arena at the final score. Pilots 4, Bruins 3. Aleksandr scored one goal and assisted on two others. My heart filled with pride for him.

I waited to watch Aleksandr skate off the ice with his team before tapping Jason’s shoulder.

“Thanks for the chat,” I told him, as he stuffed his arms into his coat.

“Yeah, you, too. I’m sure I’ll see you at Johnny’s.” Jason winked.

Translating for Aleksandr during interviews after the games was getting easier and easier. Not just because I was getting more comfortable with it, but also because Aleksandr was answering parts of the questions. Though it had been three games since my grandpa had called him out on knowing English, he had taken the reins on speaking to the media himself. I was there as backup when he had to pretend he didn’t understand something they asked or didn’t know the English words to respond.

Obviously, Aleksandr couldn’t go from not speaking any English at all to being fluent. During practice he spoke in broken English and clipped sentences, because he had that skill mastered. Still, learning English was a slow process. I was more than happy to go along with his act, because I had two and a half weeks before I went back to school, and I liked having an excuse to spend time with him.

Just when I started to think that way, my brain reminded me that he hadn’t called since our intimate night together.

I felt like an old cartoon character carrying a fictional little angel and devil on each shoulder. The little white liar, so ecstatic I’d met my match, jingled wedding bells. The red realist reminded me how good an actor Aleksandr was, as demonstrated by his ability to fool the media into thinking he barely knew English. Why did I always think the worst?

As if he’d heard my internal monologue, Aleksandr stood up, reaching over me to grab something off the top shelf of his locker.

“Thank you for being with me on Christmas,” he whispered in my ear, as he retrieved a towel.

Though I tried to contain my outward emotion, my insides were flipping like a gymnast during an uneven-bars routine. He didn’t regret our night together.

“It was my pleasure.” The words slipped out in English, as I was too flustered to come up with a response in Russian. At least I’d remembered to keep my tone professional, though I doubted anyone believed we were talking about the game, with his mouth so close to my ear.

Someone beside me snickered. When I turned to see who it was, Landon’s shoulders shook while he rubbed a towel over his wet blond waves.

Nice word choice, Auden.

Aleksandr leaned into me, ignoring Landon. “Come over tomorrow. I’ll cook you dinner. We’ll watch a movie. I’ll kiss your beautiful lips again.”

“Sure, I can tutor you tomorrow.” I adjusted the strap of my messenger bag on my shoulder. Guys always talk about mentally reciting baseball rosters or picturing their fat aunt Edna to keep from getting too excited. Talking about tutoring was my fat aunt Edna equivalent.

“See you tomorrow.” He skimmed my hip with his fingers as he edged past me to the shower.

I shivered. Of course I shivered, it was cold in the basement dungeon locker room. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to hook up again. Or the fact that he remembered it though he’d been drunk. Nothing to do with wanting to feel his lips on every part of my body.

Nope. Nothing to do with any of that.

Chapter 15

“You’re on math duty,” I told Aleksandr as he pulled his Jeep to the curb in front of a small church that housed the after-school program I’d started. It was only ten-thirty a.m., but Detroit’s public schools had a day off for a teacher workday.