Chapter Nine
Roman
Even in a season game that’s a great score. Shut outs are always better, but in the Olympics? Damn. It’s amazing. We’re playing together like an actual team out there on the ice, working together like we’ve been doing it for years. If we keep going like this, we could take home the gold.
Coming to the Olympics was great in itself, but I hadn’t considered taking home a medal.
I know that’s the goal, and of course I knew it was a possibility, but I didn’t really think about it.
I was so focused on being here, working with these new teammates, and…
Nico. I hadn’t sat down and considered that I could be a gold medal winner.
Or even a silver medal or bronze. Any medal from here is an honor.
Even if we go home with nothing, we were good enough to get here, and that’s an honor all on its own.
After we congratulate the goalie on a great game, we head off the ice. I feel eyes on me and scan the crowd, spotting Nico almost instantly a few rows up behind the benches. I smile, though I doubt he can see it behind all my gear.
He must though. Because he smiles back, giving me a little wave.
I head down the tunnel to the locker room, following the other guys.
We shed our gear as we go, tearing our helmets off. Dumping our gloves in the bin.
Coach gives us a quick pep talk as we remove the rest of our gear. It was a good game. He points out a few issues on the defensive line—but not mine, thankfully. Doesn’t mean I don’t need to work harder though, because I can always do better.
A couple of the guys head off to do some media interviews, answering questions about the games.
I hate doing them and thankfully I don’t have to often.
I’m not a people-person and don’t like being directly in front of the camera, but it comes with the job.
I laugh to myself as I think of Nico… he’d jump at the chance, I bet, wanting to be upfront and personal with it.
He’d happily answer any and all questions, and do it confidently, too. I think I like that a little too much.
I take a shower and change into my team sweats and sweatshirt, grabbing my jacket and phone before I head out.
“You heading back to the room?” McVoy asks.
“Yeah, I’m beat.”
“Cool. See you there.”
I hold my hand up in acknowledgment then head out the door. I am exhausted. My body is sore. We played hard tonight, and it paid off.
It’s not like he or the other guys will go out partying or celebrating like we would at home.
It’s completely different vibes here, and we need to be on our game.
We’re not supposed to party at home either, not when we have games.
Only healthy things go into our bodies to make sure we’re ready to play.
The cold air hits my skin, cooling me instantly. It’s a nice reprieve after the hot shower and sweating while playing. I don’t bother putting my jacket on just yet, because I want to cool off a bit.
“Hey, hockey man.”
I glance to my left and Nico comes walking out from the shadows.
I chuckle. “You’re sneaky.”
“It’s a perk of being so small.” He nudges me with his arm. “Great game tonight. Congrats on the win.”
“Thank you,” I say proudly. “It feels good.”
“Doesn’t it?” he smiles back. “Is it okay if I walk with you?”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“So, I have to say—” he says happily. “I do love the goalie head boops.”
“Goalie head boops?” I say with a laugh.
He says the strangest things, but I can’t help but find them adorable.
“So cute for such big men. Just skating up there and booping your goalie on the head. I love it.”
Oh… that’s what he’s talking about.
“They hold us up a lot of the game. When we fail, he has to make up for it.”
“I don’t do much team stuff, but I do get that.”
“It’s different for you. You perform as a team, but you still do it separately.”
“I prefer it that way.” He holds his arms out. “I do love all the attention on me.”
“You? No way.”
“Hey,” he says, giving me a playful shove. “God, you’re a brick wall.”
“You’d have more leverage on skates, I’d bet.”
“We’ll put that to the test one day.”
We reach the bus stop and sit on the empty bench to wait for it to arrive.
“I’m surprised no one is here,” he comments, looking around.
“So am I.”
“Where are all your buddies?”
I shrug. “Some were hanging back, not in a rush to leave.”
“It’s late. Hopefully they don’t miss their ride back.”
A few more people join us before the bus arrives, and we ride back to the Village. The ride makes me a little more relaxed, a little more tired. The exertion from the game is catching up to me, and though I would love to go to bed, I don’t want to say good night to Nico so soon.
We get off the bus and walk toward the buildings.
“Are you heading up to bed?” I ask.
“I was hoping you’d want to walk with me a little.”
I smile. “I’d love to.”
We take the same path we took yesterday, not that we have many to choose from or anything. We stop at the same bench, both of us sitting without having to say a word. Just being next to him is nice. We don’t have to talk or do anything; I just like his company.
“So, tell me about hockey,” he says.
“What about it?” I ask.
“Hmm, well… what do you actually do as a defenseman, other than hit people?”
“My job isn’t to hit people,” I say with a laugh. “I read plays. Break up entries. Move the puck out and make it harder for the other team to breathe.”
“But hitting people is fun?” he pushes.
“It’s… just part of the game. I don’t really think about it when it’s happening. You just go. And it’s definitely not fun when someone gets hurt.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You want to know about hockey. It’s my life. I’ll tell you how it is.”
“How do you always know where the puck is?” he asks, turning so he’s facing me a little more.
Under the streetlight, his eyes are crystal clear—blue like the ocean.
“Well, when you sign a contract you agree to let them put these little magnets in your eyes and—”
He shoves me again, chuckling. “You’re a funny guy.”
I laugh harder, loving the way his eyes shine when he laughs.
“Sometimes.”
He huffs a cute little sound. “But really?” he asks. “I want to know. Because I barely know where it is when I’m watching you play.”
“That’s your problem.” His face scrunches up in confusion. “You don’t watch the puck; you watch the play. Body positions. Stick angles. You figure out where the puck is going before the guys are moving.”
“That’s… impressive.”
“Just like anything else with the game, it just comes on instinct. Kind of like you.”
“Me?” he asks, sounding confused. “How is it like me?”
“With your jumps and spins. You do what feels right, letting your body take the lead. That’s why it’s so easy for you—why you look so good doing it.”
His grin forms slowly. “You think I look good on the ice?”
I groan, running a hand over my face. I sneak a glance at him. “You know you do.”
He grins even wider. “Yeah, I do.” We both laugh. “But… I like hearing you say it.”
I feel my cheeks warming, and I’m so glad I never decided to put on my jacket because I’d have to take it off.
We fall silent for a little while, just looking around the area. It’s quiet. Most people are sleeping, I’m sure, but here we are. Wide awake with neither of us wanting to go. I could stay here all night talking to him but he’s performing tomorrow.
“Will you be at my performance tomorrow?” he asks.
“Of course.”
He nods, biting his bottom lip and shifting so his leg brushes mine.
He leaves it there, resting against mine and my heart starts beating a little harder.
It’s warm and small, and I bet it’s soft but firm.
He doesn’t look big, but he has muscles.
There’s no way he skates and jumps like that without working out.
I meet his gaze as something warm flutters in my chest.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words tumble out of my mouth and though I want to regret them, I can’t.
He’s been flirting with me; I know that for sure now. At first, I wasn’t sure, but I’ve been paying attention. Though, maybe I’ve been reading this wrong the entire time and he’s going to get up and leave me here alone.
“I’ve been waiting for it,” he says with a smirk.
I lean in, cupping his cold cheek with my hand and brush my lips against his in a soft, slow kiss.
The faintest whimper escapes him, and I press harder, parting his lips with my tongue.
He allows me entrance, his tongue sweeping across mine gently.
I pull back, staring into his eyes that are somehow shining a brighter blue than ever before.
“Are you bad at anything?” I ask.
He grins devilishly. “Nope.”
I huff a laugh and smile, dropping my hand and leaning back into my own space.
“We should get to bed,” I say with a huff.
He sighs. “I know. But for the record, I don’t want to.”
“Neither do I.”
“Damn Olympics,” he says as he gets up.
I chuckle as I get up, and we walk together until he’s at his building.
“I’d kiss you good night, but I can’t reach,” he says sweetly.
I lean down. “Better?”
Nico steps closer, kissing the corner of my lips in a somehow erotic and sensual way.
“Better,” he whispers. “Night, Roman.”
“Good night, Nico.”
I watch as he disappears inside his building, and I shove my hands into my pockets, my coat tucked under my arm, as I head back to my own room and go to sleep.