Chapter 11 Toni
Toni
Iwatched Yvonne as she gave a short speech to the team. As the captain, part of her job was to keep us motivated. Unfortunately, her icy composure and careful way to speaking made it sound more like she was giving us a lecture in economics than psyching us up to kick Finland’s ass.
“Remember today that no matter where we came from, we are one team.”
Her brown eyes found mine and held.
“Past rivalries mean nothing. Today we fight together for the U.S. A.”
The room burst out in cheers, and I forced myself to look away.
My eyes dropped to her jersey. She was wearing number twenty-four, the same number she wore on her regular team.
I pulled on my own jersey – number nine, the same as my dad wore during his playing days.
I’d chosen it on purpose. He’d be in the stands today with my mother cheering for the US team, and I knew it would mean a lot to him to see me wearing his number.
We got the call and our team trooped out through the tunnels then surged onto the ice, looping around the rink and waving to the cheering crowd.
I could see quite a few USA jerseys in the stands, but teams from all over the world were represented as well.
I knew that the teams from Sweden and Serbia were here somewhere, studying our plays.
Whoever won their matchup tomorrow would play whichever team won today.
It would be us. I’d do my best to make that happen, and I knew every woman on the team would as well.
I took a deep breath, settling myself for the game. The smell of the ice hit my nostrils, a familiar comfort, and I repeated my pre-game mantra in my head.
I am a hockey star. Play hard, kick ass.
The next three hours passed quickly, our one hour of playing time stretching longer thanks to commercial breaks, intermissions, and one particularly gruesome injury that left one of the Finns prone on the ice and taken away on a stretcher.
We played our best and earned a hard-won victory.
The mood in the locker room afterward was ebullient. The team was gelling and we had our first win under our belts. Four more wins until the gold, but for now, we were focused on the next game.
We had the day off tomorrow and several of us decided to go out and see some of Milan. With the coaches’ warnings about bad behavior and over-indulging ringing in our ears, we set off in groups to find some fun.
Eight of us, including Yvonne and Greta, wound up at a nightclub not too far from the university where we were staying. Usually we all saw each other in sportswear, so it was fun to see everyone dressed up for our night out.
Both Yvonne and I were wearing skirts, mine shorter and tighter than the modest piece she wore, although the skirt still gave a tantalizing view of those long, shapely legs.
I’d paired my dress with sky-high heels that made me tower over a lot of the people we passed, while Yvonne went with ankle boots with low, chunky heels.
Our group piled into a large booth in the corner, ordering a couple of bottles of wine and something the server recommended called stuzzichini, which turned out to be huge platters of finger foods including olives, cheese, crostini, various meats, and these fried rice balls filled with ham. It was all delicious.
We ate our snacks and drank wine until we were stuffed, periodically stopping to dance either in a group or with one of the many men who approached our table looking for a dance partner.
Even though there were plenty of attractive women in this bar, our group was catching a lot of attention from the men here tonight.
Carrie Underwood’s The Champion came on and we moved as one, hurrying to the dance floor to dance in a clump of bodies.
“Isn’t this a football song?” Yvonne yelled in my ear.
I was just tipsy enough that it felt okay for me to grab her hips and move closer.
“Yeah but it still applies for hockey,” I shouted. “We’re tougher than those NFL guys anyway.”
Three teammates in earshot sent up a whoop of agreement.
Yvonne, who was possibly a little drunker than I thought, turned in my arms, grinding her ass against my pelvis.
It was the most disinhibited I’d seen her in all the years we’d known each other, but I didn’t mind.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, rested my chin on her shoulder, and moved my body with hers, enjoying the moment.
I noticed a group of our teammates watching us curiously including Greta, who was smiling like she was pleased about whatever was happening between us.
I wished I knew.
It had been four days since we kissed. Four days since we’d agreed to be friends.
It turns out I really liked Yvonne Volkova.
We’d spent the time getting to know each other, watching game film, going to team workouts, playing hockey, and attending the opening ceremonies and other events with the team.
We’d both been very careful to avoid any physical touch, at least until now, although that kiss was never far from my mind.
Yvonne continued to be a little hot and cold with me.
It was like she’d realize that we were having fun together and something would make her pull back.
It felt like two steps forward and one step back with her, but at least we were on a forward trajectory.
I wasn’t sure what had happened in Yvonne’s past to make her so guarded and fearful, but despite my reputation to the contrary, I was generally a patient person.
I was willing to wait for her to process whatever she needed to process.
The truth was I was kind of freaked out too.
Sure, I’d known I was attracted to her. I’d known that for a long time.
We were as opposite as could be, but somehow I’d always known we’d fit.
Still, that kiss had shaken me to the core.
It hadn’t felt like two people exploring an attraction, it had felt like two souls finding each other after a long absence.
It felt a lot like love, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that any more than she was.
When we got back to the table, I called the server over, requesting water in one of the few Italian phrases I’d memorized for this trip. I pressed a bottle into Yvonne’s hand.
“Drink,” I ordered.
“I love it when you’re bossy, it’s so sexy,” she replied dreamily, resting her head on my shoulder.
My arm went around her before my brain knew what was happening.
“Yvonne?”
It took her a few seconds to answer.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t drink very often, do you?” I asked, nudging the hand holding the water bottle towards her face in a silent order to drink.
“I never drink,” she sighed. “But I’ve been missing out. Drinking is awesome.”