While I’d initially forced myself not to follow his career, not to look him up on websites, or even pay attention when his name was brought up, it’d been impossible to ignore all the drama, despite how much I wanted to.
Then he’d come back the next season and won a championship.
I hadn’t watched or paid attention to the European League that year, or the two following. By that point, I was too focused on myself and my career. Reiner Kulti had become someone who had nothing to do with me.
“That’s the price of fame, huh?” I asked, feeling a stab of pain right through my chest. It really shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. It was weird how even now, when I was fully aware there would never be anything between us, my body still had a severe possessive streak in it. He’d gotten married to someone, and pledged his life to another person.
Bah. I didn’t have time for this crap.
Kulti’s cheek ticked like he was remembering everything he’d been through too. It wasn’t like he was a talkative forthcoming person to begin with, but when he answered with one word, I figured it was still a touchy subject for him. “Yes,” was the only thing he said.
All right. I cleared my throat and sang under my breath, “Tough shit, frankfurter.”
There was a pause before he let out a snicker. “Sal, I don’t know how you haven’t gotten elbowed in the face yet.”
I opened my mouth and pressed the tip of my tongue behind my upper teeth for a second. “One, at least I tell you things to your face and not behind your back. And two, I have gotten elbowed in the face. Multiple times.” I pointed at a scar right smack on my cheekbone, then the underside of my chin and lastly right above my eyebrow. “So, suck on that, pretzel face.”
To be fair, he was fast, but I also wasn’t expecting it.
The couch cushion hit me right in the face.
* * *
“Sal, I haven’t you see here in forever,” the receptionist on the other side of the window said as I handed her a clipboard with my paperwork, driver’s license and medical card.
“You make it sound like that’s not a good thing,” I told her with a smile.
She winked. “We’ll call you in for your x-rays in a few.”
I nodded at the older woman and smiled at the couple waiting patiently behind me. I walked back to my seat in the corner of the room where the German was sitting with the television remote in his hand, flicking through channels on the mounted flat-screen. I muffled a groan as I sat, my hands gripping the armrests on the journey down.
He was eyeing me, only slightly shaking his head.
“What?”
He looked down, whether at my hands or the v-neck T-shirt I had pulled on I wasn’t sure, and then returned his gaze to my face. “You.”
“Be quiet. The last time I took time off from training was when my grandfather died. I don’t play hooky without a good reason.” I blew a long breath out of my mouth and stayed upright, back straight, hands braced to help me up when they called my name.
He reached over and smacked the side of my knee with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back.”
I opened my mouth and let a huge grin take over my face, the action halting him halfway up. The only reason I didn’t laugh was because it would hurt, but I still snorted. “Okay, Arnold.”
Kulti didn’t look particularly impressed. “He’s Austrian, not German, you little shit,” he deadpanned, his face saying I was annoying him, but his eyes said thought I was a little funny.
Besides, I hadn’t meant that I thought Arnold was German, but if it annoyed him, it was all the same.
Stretching up to his full height, he hit my knee with his and made his way out of the small reception area in the direction of the restroom. I pulled my phone out of the black leather purse my parents had bought me for Christmas and started typing a message to Marc. I let him know I made it to my appointment, and I’d be going in for an x-ray pretty soon. I hadn’t screwed him over too bad today by taking the day off, there wasn’t anything terrible on the schedule, but still. I felt bad, even if he was the one who told me I better not tag along until I knew for sure I wouldn’t be doing more damage to myself by working.
“Do you mind turning the volume up?”
I glanced up from my phone to see the man who had been behind me checking in with his wife, looking expectantly from his seat across the room. He was referring to the television. “Sure,” I said, taking the remote from Kulti’s empty seat and absently raising the volume on the television.