Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
ALEX (ALEXEY)
Icalled him baby in the heat of the moment.
Would it scare him away? We were acting like boyfriends here, besides the secretive aspect of our relationship.
It was a relationship. Margot clearly still bothered him.
If he were jealous, it meant his feelings ran deep.
Wrapping my arms around him, I hugged him and kissed his head, emotion blooming in my chest. My feelings were running deep too.
I couldn’t deny them, and something had to give. “Hey.”
“I need a minute. I’m…God, it just feels so good to lie here in your arms right now.” He breathed in deeply. “I can’t remember the last time I was this content.”
Yeah, his feelings were running deep. Staring at the ceiling, I tightened my embrace. I’d have to confront this and be a man about it. How would my family react? I’d surely lose my father. Mom, I wasn’t so sure. “Hey, are you staying tonight?” Last time, he’d fled. But we’d gone beyond that now.
He lifted his head, his stunning hazel eyes focusing on me. “Yeah, is that okay?”
As a grin teased my lips, I said, “Of course, it is. I enjoy having you next to me while I sleep.” I’d love to have him in my home, but then I had Margot to deal with. I couldn’t even sleep at his place without an excuse to give her about not coming home.
“Good.” He kissed my chest. “I’m about to leak, so we should shower.” He smirked. “I like it when you soap me up.” He lifted off me and climbed out of the bed.
“Then I guess I’ll soap you up.” I only did it because I enjoyed touching him so much. I could barely keep my hands off him, in fact. I hopped off the bed and joined him in the shower.
The next morning, I woke early, left Julian in my bed with a kiss, and headed down for the team breakfast after dressing. We’d have meetings and a walkthrough prior to the game. As I strolled into the conference room with our catered breakfast, I spied Mason and Jett filling their plates with food.
Mason glanced at me and smirked.
Julian had said Mason had noticed something between us. Would he say anything to me? I strode to the food tables, grabbed a plate, and filled it with pancakes and eggs. “How are you both this morning?”
“Great.” Mason peered across the room for a beat. “Where’s Julian? Shouldn’t he be here?”
I shrugged. Yeah, he knew. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s late.”
“I wonder who made him late?” Mason waggled his brows at me and then glanced at Jett, who shook his head. “Are you sitting with us this morning, Cap? Or do you need to sit with the rooks?”
“I can sit with you. I’ll spend time with the rooks at lunch.
” Julian would surely be around during lunch.
Following them to a round table, I dropped in beside Mason.
Had he told Jett about his suspicions? If I sat with them, maybe I could gauge what they suspected.
As I poured coffee from a carafe into a mug, I said, “What do you think about Julian? He’s coming along, huh? ”
“Sure, he’s coming along. I respect the guy a lot more than when he started.” Mason ate a bite of an egg.
“I’ve heard you're partially to blame for his coming along.” Jett threw me a quick smirk and then drank some orange juice. “Seems to me you’re doing a fine job showing him the ropes.”
“Yeah, you two spend a lot of time together, don’t you?” Mason narrowed his eyes at me.
“I mean, yeah, when we’re at the barn.” A faltering chuckle escaped me. “It’s not like we hang out at home together.”
“Not with your ex-girlfriend snooping around.” With a sharp laugh, Mason shook his head and ate some fruit.
Jett pursed his lips. “How are things with Margot? When is she moving out?” He ate some whole-wheat toast.
“I don’t know yet.” I wiped my mouth and drank some coffee. “Probably within the month.” Talking about Margot’s moving schedule had become a common theme around here. Why did everyone care so much? I understood Julian’s concerns, but—
“Hey.” Julian appeared at the table with a plate piled high with food, his damp curls hanging around his forehead.
My heart stumbled, and my breath caught. He knew what leaving his hair down did to me.
Mason’s brow arched. “Have a seat.” He waved his hand toward the empty chair next to mine.
“Thanks.” He sat in the chair and poured a cup of coffee for himself. “So, what did I interrupt?”
“We were just talking about you behind your back.” Mason barked out a laugh.
After clearing his throat, Jett said, “But they were good comments. You’ve come a long way, and the team is noticing it. You’re earning the players’ respect.”
“Yeah?” His eyes lit and his attention shifted to me. “That’s good to hear. I hope the coaching staff tells my father that.”
“I’m sure he’ll hear it.” I patted his thigh under the table. He’d come so far, and it was great seeing him earn the respect of Mason and Jett.
“So, did you get your beauty rest last night, Volkov?” Mason hooked a brow at me. “I crushed it in Call of Duty.”
“Yeah, I did.” I snuck a glance at Julian, whose cheeks pinked. He’d made the time away from the guys worth it. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how it’s done tonight.”
Julian brought a fork filled with eggs to his mouth and halted for a beat before plunging it in.
Shit, did he think I didn’t want to see him tonight? I should bond with my teammates, but I’d spend time with him too. “You should play with us, Julian.”
“Yeah?” He set his fork on his plate. “I’m not very good.”
“Great, I can’t wait to destroy you then.” Mason cackled and drank his coffee.
Rolling his eyes, Jett said, “Maybe Volkov can give you some pointers.”
Had Mason spoken to Jett about his suspicions? Of course he had. They were husbands. “Yeah, sure, you can play in my room and I’ll help you.” I gave him my most innocent smile. Now we had justification for sharing my room after the game tonight.
“Okay.” With a grin playing across his lips, he dug into his food.
With two minutes left before the second intermission, I was skating with Big Hopkins and Jarvis, tearing up the ice. Even with Gagnon goaltending most of the night, the Canucks hadn’t sunk a puck, giving us a lead of three. Two of the goals I’d scored.
Big Hopkins juggled the puck between his stick’s blade and then shot it to me. “Take it in, Volkov.”
As I caught the puck, I peeked at the Canuck’s goalie, spreading out at the net. If I made this shot, I’d have a hat trick.
A Canucks D-man came at me, and I shifted on my skates, whirling around him. With a snap of my wrist, I shot the puck at the goalie’s shoulder.
The puck blew past the goalie’s raised glove and dove into the net, the horn and red-light blaring.
A player appeared on my right, and his stick flew up, catching my wrist before he slammed into me.
“Fuck!” Pain surged up my arm and into my shoulder. I fell onto the ice on my side and slid toward the boards. The asshole slashed me. I had wrist guards on, but, fuck, it still smarted. I attempted to push up from the ice, and more pain threaded up my arm.
“You son of a bitch!” Big Hopkins threw his gloves on the ice and rushed the D-man. As they met, Big Hopkins grabbed his jersey at the neck and threw a punch.
“Oh, here we go.” With a chuckle, I shook my head, my wrist aching. I’d wait for our medic. At least I’d gotten my hat trick.
Jarvis skated to my side. “Are you okay?” He wrinkled his brows under his helmet.
“No, it’s my wrist.” I carefully slid my glove off. A purplish bruise ran along the top of my wrist, but the swelling wasn’t bad. I'd better not have broken it. I cut my gaze to Big Hopkins, holding the D-man’s head under his arm while the ref attempted to break them apart.
The crowd roared across the arena.
“Shit, let me help you up.” Jarvis held his gloved hand down.
“Hold on.” Rick Sanderson, our trainer, ran toward us with his medical bag and then crouched onto a knee beside me. “Let me take a quick look.”
“It’s my wrist. He slashed me.” I held up my injured arm. God damn it, I didn’t want to miss the start of the season with an injury.
Sanderson carefully touched my wrist. “Does it hurt here?”
“No.” I watched Big Hopkins and the D-man enter their respective penalty boxes.
Turning my hand around, Sanderson pushed a new spot. “How about here?”
Pain blasted up my arm. “Ow, fuck, yeah, that hurts.” Breathing through the pain, I clenched my teeth and peeked at him.
He pursed his lips. “Okay, let’s get you into the medical room.” He grabbed my arm and hauled me to standing.
With a glance toward the press box, I skated toward the gate. What was Julian thinking about this?
Julian stood against the edge of the half-wall dividing the box from the stands, his face not visible, but his stance stiff.
As I passed the guys on the bench, Ace called out, “Hell of a hat trick, Volkov. I hope you come back out.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” I wouldn’t be back out. I stepped through the tunnel, past the locker room and into the medical room—with stark white walls, a few padded treatment tables in blue, and a hard table with an X-ray machine hanging over it.
“Let’s get you undressed enough to take an X-ray first. Then we’ll see what we’re dealing with.” He patted the table on the left.
Within minutes, the doctor had examined my wrist, we had the X-ray completed, and the team and coach’s voices filtered in from the locker room. I sure as hell wouldn’t be back on the ice tonight. I sat on a treatment table with an ice pack attached to my wrist with a compression bandage.
Julian appeared at the door, his suit jacket discarded, and shirt unbuttoned at the top. “Alex, what happened? Are you okay?” He glanced at Sanderson. “Is he okay?”
“The doctor is reviewing his X-rays now.” Sanderson narrowed his eyes at Julian. “Shouldn’t you be in the press box?”
“Yes, uh, no…” With a huff, Julian paced the room. “They don’t need me right now.”
The doctor strolled into the room, his brow arching as his gaze met Julian’s. “And you are?”