Chapter 4
EVAN
“So those are all the teams,” I finished, having quickly given up on Perry speaking. He was never great with being put on the spot without any prep. Since I was a talker, I’d pointed out all the curlers to Channing and explained where everyone was ranked.
“And your team has top seed?” Channing asked, piercing me again with his mesmerizing attention.
It took me a moment to parse the question.
Behind me, Andre snickered, jolting me out of the trance.
Channing shot a look past me to where I figured Andre must have been standing before Channing’s glare turned him to ash on the spot.
That was nice of him, to burn the asshole down to size.
I nodded. “Yep. Perry’s one of the best curlers in the house.” I couldn’t help a grin, because Perry was basically my favourite topic. “Probably the best.”
Perry’s cheeks glowed an adorably darker-than-normal shade, but he seemed trapped by Channing too when they latched gazes.
Huh. I maybe should have been jealous about that, but Channing seemed base, and his eyes were kind of fire, so really, I couldn’t blame Perry.
“Excellent.” Channing nodded, then turned to watch the action below, quickly getting distracted by the games going on.
“If you’re here to get the lay of the place, you’ve pretty much seen it all.” I pointed through the windows to the door off the far side of the rink. “The change rooms are over there, the bar’s behind us, and the bathrooms are down that hallway.” I pointed out the door to the washrooms.
“He didn’t come here to drink and piss, Baily,” Andre sneered, shouldering his way between me and Channing.
“No, I didn’t,” Channing agreed, easing away from Andre. “But since two of my companions have already found the bar, where to piss will be good to know, I’m sure.”
I glanced behind us to where two identical-looking people were accepting drinks from Sheri.
“That’s Jason and Cameron Darren,” I said, as if Channing didn’t know who he’d come in with.
The twins were not as well known as Channing was for their curling prowess, but they were well enough known for their carousing, and for the fact Alan Channing wasn’t a huge fan of possibly representing the country alongside them.
He would never say so out loud, anywhere near a microphone, but there was a distance between them that didn’t happen when a team gelled well. It was obvious watching them play that while technically a top-tier team, there was no heart there.
The other arrival who had come in with them was Carol Renard, the guy who had played first stone to Channing’s Skip for years until the twins had come along and taken over the front end of the team, moving Renard to Vice-skip.
He had found a seat overlooking the sheets and watched the action below intently, twining a frayed thread from a hole in the knee of his jeans around his finger as he gazed down.
Occasionally, he tucked a strand of blue-dyed hair that had escaped his braid behind his ear. On the ice, I’d always thought he looked bad-ass with that hair and his pale blue eyes, but sitting in our lounge on his own, he was smaller than I’d thought, curled in on himself and quiet.
Channing snorted and turned his back on Andre and the Darren twins to look at me. “Thank you for the tour… Evan, isn’t it? Evan Baily?”
I nodded, caught by his sharp, golden gaze. How he knew my first name, I had no idea. I’d gotten so caught up in explaining who everyone else was, I’d forgotten to introduce myself, because of course I had.
“And your Skip is Perry Hasting.”
“That’s right.”
He nodded and smiled, showing teeth and long, perfect dimples. “Good to know. I’m eager to size up my competition.”
“Bet.” It made sense. We would be competing next week, and it wasn’t like he could study us on TV like we could him. We weren’t famous about-to-be Olympians.
“Come on, Ev,” Perry said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back. “It’d suck to lose because we defaulted. Break’s over.”
“Right. Yeah.” I let him drag me back to the sheets.