Page 79 of Crease Collision

OSKAR: I assume you have more English to teach me since I don’t know what a gong show is and don’t remember standing on my head. Whatever it means, I am eager to learn.

OSKAR: I am excited about the rest of what you said. My dick needs sucking. I have a big present for you too, and I’ll put it exactly where you like it.

When there’s no answer, I assume he fell asleep. It’s later in New York, and I understand what headaches are like. We’ll be together tomorrow.

OSKAR: Natti natti, hjärtat.

I dream about him all night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

KAI

Marty presses his elbow into the muscle next to my spine so hard my vision blurs. I grab the edge of the treatment table. “Jesus Christ.”

“You say that every time. Maybe stop throwing yourself around the crease like a maniac.”

The training room smells of menthol cream, damp gear, and the gross green recovery shake Jace had spilled earlier. Practice ended half an hour ago, but the noise from the locker room echoes off the walls. Showers are running down the hall, and the guys are raising hell. Highlights from last night’s HFNA games are playing on the TV in here, but I can’t see them since I’m face-down.

Oskar’s still in St. Louis with the Fury, but they’ll be flying home later. We’re supposed to see each other tonight.

“Your face is weird,” Nico says from across the room.

I turn my head enough and glare at him. He’s sitting in a recovery chair with an ice wrap on his knee, scrolling through something on a tablet while one of the equipment guys talks to him about the new sticks he’s ordered. Even when he’s only half paying attention, Nico notices everything.

“My face always looks like this,” I say.

“No.” Nico points at me without looking up. “That’s your ‘I’m pretending to be cool’ face.”

Marty snorts. “Can both of you shut the fuck up? Kai, your neck will get sore if you keep it twisted like that.”

I put my face back over the face cradle.

“Why’s your phone by your hand in the middle of a massage, Kai?” Nico sounds amused. “Expecting a text from someone?”

Marty presses in again, making me grunt. I count my breaths and try to relax.

A few minutes later, when I’m on the verge of telling him to let me off the fucking table, he slaps my ass.

“All done here, Mercer. I need to go check on some supplies that came in this morning, so take your time getting up.” He walks across the room, then pauses in the doorway. “Don’t move, Nico. I’ll be back.”

As Marty walks away, I roll onto my side so I can see Nico. “Is your knee okay?”

“Yeah. Strained it. Marty said we should use ice so it doesn’t get worse.”

“Good call. We’re in for a tough game against Bethesda on Saturday.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So. The Swede.”

My body tenses so much I feel a twinge where Marty was working. “What Swede?”

“Don’t try that shit with me.” He closes the tablet and sets it on the table beside him. “Oskar’s still in St. Louis?”

“They fly back today.” I don’t offer more.

“Things going well, then?”

Not really a question. More of a statement he wants me to confirm.