“What do you want?” Tom Alan flicked his head, showering the immediate area with perspiration.
“Hockey.” Kensuke’s hands were in his pockets, his head was bowed and his shoulders drooped. “Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays.”
“Um, only during the summer,” Erika said, still breathing hard from the final run-through. “Hockey’s at night on Wednesdays now and Saturday mornings. No Monday practices.”
“Oh.” Kensuke looked at his feet. “I missed a couple.”
“Rough day?” Tom Alan asked abrasively, wiping his face with a towel.
“Kind of.”
“We heard.”
“Jesse was here,” Erika explained.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Tom Alan took his shirt off. Kensuke looked up then, and followed the towel down one side of taut oblique muscles and over the ribs. When it rubbed all over Tom Alan’s gut, the little golden hair
