Chapter 23
MADARS
We pulled up to the ice rink at a little before seven in the morning, gathered our gear from the trunk, and headed inside. As we were pulling on our skates, the locker room door opened again.
Mülly, who played defense on my team in Genève, strode in along with his wife, Emilia.
She was one of the top female forwards in not only Switzerland, but Europe.
She’d practiced with us and our teammates before, and she was the reason no man on that team would ever again think, “Eh, she’s tiny, this will be easy.
” She was faster and more agile than any of us, and despite her size, she could check us almost as hard as we checked each other.
I fucking loved practicing with her, because if I could get a puck away from her or past her, then I’d be golden once I was playing for real.
As they put their gear bags down on the benches, Mülly peered at Connor with a quizzical expression.
I cleared my throat. “Mülly, this is Connor. He officiates for the NAL, but we won’t hold that against him.”
“Hey!” Connor rolled his eyes as he rose to shake my teammate’s hand. “Don’t make them hate before I even open my mouth.”
“Nah, we won’t hate you.” Mülly extended his hand. “You’re not officiating us, so you’re off the hook.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
Mülly chuckled, and he introduced himself and Emilia. She was also Swiss, but she spoke Italian. Mülly spoke German, though he also knew a fair amount of Italian. Lucky for Connor and me, they were also fluent English speakers.
Fluent enough that there was no shortage of chirping once we all hit the ice.
“My grandmother skates faster than you,” Emilia said as she whipped past me. “Come on—I thought you were a pro!”
“I just didn’t want to crash into you,” I retorted. “I don’t feel like fighting with your husband.”
“You don’t like fighting anyone,” Mülly said, and he followed that with chicken noises.
“Oh, fuck you.” I whacked his padded shin with my stick. “I have more fights in a season than you have in your whole career.”
“But how many of them do you win?” Emilia asked.
Connor barked a laugh, and I shot him a glare.
“Hey!” I said. “I win them sometimes!”
“Sometimes,” Emilia and Mülly both sing-songed.
I groaned. “I hate you both.”
“Liar.” Emilia danced around me again with the puck. “You hate the truth.”
“Rude,” I muttered, then focused on chasing after her and trying to relieve her of the puck.
I failed, but Connor managed to get it away from her. I tapped my stick on the ice, and he passed to me. It wasn’t a perfect pass, but it got to me, and I slapped it on net. Had there been a goaltender, it probably would’ve been deflected.
A completely empty net? Goal.
Connor skated up to me for a fist bump and a side hug. “Nice one!”
“Thanks for the assist!”
We locked eyes, and we both grinned. Something about the feisty glint in his eyes told me we’d be getting in some more cardio later today. Couldn’t wait.
As we separated and Emilia dug the puck out of the net, Mülly caught my eye. He had a curious look, though I wasn’t sure why. Unless he was trying to suss out exactly what kind of “friends” Connor and I were?
Luckily, Emilia kept us focused on hockey, which pulled Mülly’s attention off Connor and me and my attention off Mülly. Perfect.
We battled it out two-on-two, each trying to get to the other’s net. Emilia got possession, and she sent it to Mülly. I tried to snatch the puck away, but succeeded only in knocking his skate out from under him. Mülly tumbled to the ice with a string of German curses.
Then, in English, he shouted, “That should be a penalty!” He turned to Connor. “That’s a penalty, isn’t it?”
Connor put up his hands. “I didn’t see anything.”
Mülly huffed as he got up and dusted snow off his pants. “And if I give you a twenty euro note in the locker room?”
“Make it fifty, and we’ll call it a double minor.”
“Hey!” I whacked at Connor with my stick, but he danced away from it, laughing like the gremlin he was. “You’re a dick.”
Still cackling, he flipped me off as best he could in hockey gloves.
I just rolled my eyes. He grinned, winked, and skated away.
Fucking hell. You’re so beautiful.
I sensed someone watching me, and I turned to see Mülly giving me another odd look. Heat instantly rushed into my face. I tore my gaze away and skated after Connor, hoping my teammate either didn’t say anything or didn’t think anything of it.
No such luck.
I’d stopped for some water when Mülly skated up beside me, and when he spoke, he kept his voice low.
He also switched to German, which I spoke and understood, if not as effortlessly as Latvian or English, as if to make sure no one but us knew what he was saying.
“Mads, I don’t want to get into your personal business, but…
” He tilted his water bottle toward Connor. “Are you sure about this?”
I blinked. Also in German, I replied, “Sure about what?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know you two aren’t just friends.”
Heat blazed in my face, and I doubted even being flushed from the game could hide the blush. I glanced in Connor’s direction, watching him chatting with Emilia as they passed a puck back and forth.
“He’s a referee, Mads,” Mülly hissed.
“In the NAL.” I shrugged tightly. “I play in Switzerland. What difference does it make?”
“But you want to play in the NAL, don’t you?”
I gritted my teeth. “I do, but I think that ship sailed long before I ever touched Connor.”
Mülly stared at me like I was the biggest dumbass on the planet. “Are you stupid?”
I straightened. “What?”
“Are you—Mads. Mads, for fuck’s sake.” He put his water bottle down hard enough that some erupted from the spout onto his glove. “Coach is always saying he’s worried that you and Vilde will get snatched up by North America. If anyone on our team is going to make that leap…”
Scowling, I put down my own water bottle. “That was before I fucked up my knee.”
Mülly looked pointedly at my knee, then back at me. “You’re skating. You’re playing.” He spread his arms. “What’s the problem?”
“But am I playing at NAL speed?” I frowned. “Last time I hurt my knee, no one would sign me. They’re sure as fuck not going to import me.”
“You never know.” He gestured with his water bottle before bringing it up for a drink. “Don’t sell yourself short, Mads. You’re good. They see that, and if they’re smart, they’ll come looking for you.” He lowered his voice. “And if they find out you’re dating a referee…”
Avoiding his gaze, I chewed the inside of my cheek. I knew he was right. The NAL wouldn’t put up with a ref and a player in a relationship. But what was I supposed to do? Give up Connor on the off chance the League offered me a contract?
I let my gaze drift to the man in question, watching him doing some crossovers and lazily chasing pucks. Then I stared down at my water bottle as my heart thumped against my ribs.
What if the NAL wants to sign me?
What happens to us?
What if I have to choose between—
Someone skated up and showered us with ice crystals. As I brushed them off, I turned to see Emilia grinning at us, with Connor approaching at more leisurely pace.
“Are you boys going to stand here all day and gossip like little girls?” She tapped her husband’s stick. “Or are we going to use this ice time that we paid for?”
Mülly groaned. “This woman never lets me rest.”
“Good.” I squirted him with my water bottle. “You’re lazy.”
“Hey!” He sprayed me from his own bottle.
“Boys, boys.” Emilia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Stop playing and let’s get back to work.”
“You heard the lady.” I put my bottle down and pushed off. “Back to work!”
I didn’t hear what Mülly said after that.
But we did all get back to work.