Bear Meets Girl Page 106
“Where’s Jai?” Crush asked Barb, which was starting to annoy Cella. Why was he talking to her mother?
“On her way.”
“Hello?” Cella snapped. “I am right here. Mind not ignoring me?”
Crush glanced at her. “How much longer can you stand on one leg like that?”
“No idea.”
“If you put weight on that leg too soon, Cella, you’re going to risk permanently damaging it.”
“That sounds like my problem, not yours.”
“Good point. Besides, who cares? You’re off the team anyway. Out on your ass. That’s gotta hurt.”
Cella’s eyes narrowed, locking on the bear, while her mother and aunts backed up a little farther.
Crush jerked his finger over his shoulder. “Mr. Novikov brought you flowers.”
“It’s Bo, you geek. Bo. Not Mr. Novikov.”
“He’s planning to go without an enforcer now that you’re out. I told him to go with Gene Martin.”
“Are you insane?” Cella demanded, wondering what had gotten into the bear.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Everything! First off, he’s second string for a reason. Second, he should still be in the minors. The only reason he’s not is because his father pulled strings to get him in. And third, he gets even the tiniest cut and he’s ready to go straight to a hospital bed. He’s weak and kind of stupid. There’s no way he can replace me.”
“Who would you suggest?”
“The Reed kid.”
The flowers were suddenly flung to the side, revealing Novikov. He’d brought her flowers? Really sweet, but she was sure he’d only done that because Blayne must have talked him into it.
“Reed?” Novikov growled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“The kid has real potential and wolves are great enforcers. Remember my Uncle Jimmy?”
“Uncle Jimmy?” Crush blinked. “Do you mean Jimmy Caufield?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Jimmy ‘I maul because it pleases me’ Caufield? That Jimmy Caufield?”
“Well ... I just call him Uncle Jimmy. He’s one of my godfathers. He bought me my first car when I was stationed in Korea that year. Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Because I think part of me hates you right now.”
“You had to buy your own first car?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m ... forget it.”
Novikov pushed past Crush. “You can’t be serious about Reed.”
“I’m completely serious about Reed. Don’t let that hillbilly accent fool you—”
“Hey!” Dee-Ann complained from the hallway.
“—he’s good. And he could prove that to you if you gave him the chance.”
“No one gave me the chance and I proved myself.”
“Only because you’re a friendless loser who never worries about how he might come off to people.”
“I am not friendless.”
“Then name two friends you have that aren’t Blayne Thorpe.”
“Well—”
“And don’t mention those two Eurotrash foxes you sometimes have hanging around.”
“They’re not Eurotrash. They’re from Maine.”
“Whatever. Here. I’ll make it easy on you. Name one friend you have that’s not a fox financially living off you or a crazed wolfdog who thinks her derby team is more important than my hockey team.”
Novikov looked around, saw not only Cella waiting for his answer, but her mother and all her aunts. That’s when he suddenly pointed at Crush.
“Him.”
“Him? You don’t even know his name.”
“It’s Crushek.”
“First name?”
Watching Novikov try to remember what she was sure Blayne had told him, Cella bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.
“Lou,” he finally answered. “Lou Crushek. Crush for short.” Novikov scowled at Crush. “Right?”
His mouth hanging open, Crush stared at his current favorite player. “Huh?”
“That’s your name, right? And we’re friends, right?” Novikov pushed between clenched teeth.
“Uh ... yeah. Okay. Sure.”
“See?” Novikov said to Cella, clearly feeling triumphant. “I have friends.”
“Clearly. It must also help he’s not really a threat since he doesn’t play hockey professionally. Unlike Reed.”
“Are you saying that some flea-bitten wolf referred to as ‘one of the Reed boys’ is a threat to me?”
“That’s why you’re not giving him a chance, right? Because you’re afraid he’ll make you look bad?”
“Like hell he’ll—”
“Then give him a shot.” Cella shrugged, trying to keep it all casual. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“He needs work.”
“Cella can help him,” Crush volunteered.
“I can?”
“You can. When your leg’s healed.”
“But I’m off the team.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t help the hillbilly.”
“Perhaps I’m too devastated by this entire tragedy to—”
“Yeah. Blah, blah, blah,” Novikov cut in. “The least you can do is work with the guy.”