Body Check

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "Have you tried calling him?"

  Alyssa reached for the pot of water then paused and gave Val a horrified look. "No. Why would I call him? That's a little too pathetic, even for me."

  "I didn't mean—no, you're right. Sorry." Val looked down, her focus suddenly intent on examining the nails of her right hand. Alyssa pushed by her and drained the pasta, then rinsed it. She grabbed two plates and busied herself with assembling the finished dishes, then sat them on the long counter. She handed a fork to Val, then sat down and started eating, each bite slow and thoughtful. Not too bad, she guessed.

  Val sat next to her and started on her own plate. The silence around them was companionable, comfortable. Alyssa tried to relax and enjoy it, because if she knew Val at all, this was nothing more than just a brief lull.

  Val had only taken a few bites before she slammed the fork down with a curse. "Dammit, what the hell is wrong with that man?"

  The chicken and pasta turned pasty and thick in Alyssa's mouth, the spices in the sauce suddenly dry, gritty. She forced herself to swallow and reached for her water, taking long gulps and nearly choking. She pushed herself up from the stool and grabbed the plate, then scraped the leftover food into the scraps bin before moving to the sink.

  Val didn't move, didn't even look over at her. Instead her gaze was focused on the nearly full plate in front of her, a scowl marring the perfect features of her face. "I really, really thought you two had something going. I could have sworn—"

  "Val, let it go. I have." Which was a complete lie but she wasn't about to admit that to her friend. It was too humiliating. Too hurtful. Because she had wanted to believe Val. Most of all, she had wanted to believe Randy's soft words, spoken in a whisper in the dark of night as he held her in his arms, their bodies melded into one.

  Yeah, right. Even she knew there was a difference between need and want. And while he may have said both, that didn't necessarily mean he needed her for anything more than what they had: sex.

  Too bad she had let herself get carried away. Too bad she had convinced herself that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to feel something for him.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Somewhere along the line she had let herself fall in love with him. He had gotten to her, with his hard-as-nails exterior covering what she thought might be a teddy-bear interior. Too bad she had read too much into it.

  "I just don't get it, though. I mean, I know he's busy with practice and games and that stupid anger management therapy he has to go through—what was that for?"

  Alyssa shook her head, surprised Val had heard her small snort of disbelief. Or maybe she wasn't, since Val seemed to be hyperaware of every reaction she had when it came to Randy. "Anger management therapy? Seriously?"

  "Yeah. The team's GM is making him take it in order to keep playing. Because of the fights and being arrested and everything."

  "Oh please. Your brother needs anger management therapy about as much as I need cooking lessons." Alyssa busied herself with cleaning up the dirty dishes and readying the kitchen for the long day ahead. It didn't help that Val kept staring at her, her mouth pursed, her dark eyes flashing with something dangerously close to deep thought. Val and deep thought didn't go well together.

  "So you don't think he has anger issues?"

  "Val. Seriously? He's your brother. Do you think he does?"

  "Well, no. I mean, he can get hot-headed sometimes but still..." She shook her head. "No, I don't think he does."

  "He doesn't, trust me."

  "Well, he's convinced himself that something must be wrong, because if it wasn't, why would they make him take them?"

  "I don't know, you'd have to ask them." Alyssa tossed the rag she had been using to wipe down the counter into the bucket of cleaning solution then rinsed her hands. "I mean, that whole arresting thing. That was just because he was taking up for you, wasn't it?"

  A small smile teased the corners of Val's mouth. "Yeah. He always took his big brother role very seriously, especially when we were growing up. It made dating in high school a nightmare."

  "See? He was just being protective."

  "Maybe."

  "And correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he a defenseman? I don't know much about hockey, but I thought they were supposed to be tough and everything."

  "Yeah. He's an enforcer."

  "And he's good at what he does, right? So I don't understand what the problem is." Never mind that she had no idea what she was really talking about, because she really didn't know that much about hockey. True, she had been trying to watch and learn when she could, but she was still pretty clueless. "All I know is that I've seen other players do the same things he does, if not more. So I really don't understand."

  "Wait. You've watched him play? When? You're always here."

  Busted. Alyssa turned her back to Val and pretended to busy herself with cleaning. "Oh my God. Are you recording the games? Seriously?"

  "What? No. Of course not."

  "Alyssa Harris, don't you dare lie to me. There's no way you could be watching games unless you were recording them. So. Why are you recording them?"

  "I'm not. I just happened to see a few highlights, that's all." Alyssa was glad her back was to Val, because she had no doubt that her flaming face would give away the fact she was lying. It didn't matter, though, because Val knew her too well. She was waiting for her friend to call her out on it again, but Val remained silent. A few seconds went by, then Alyssa heard the scrape of the stool against the tile floor. She looked over her shoulder and felt an icy tendril of anxiety tickle her spine at the expression on Val's face. She was frowning, her mouth pursed and her eyes glazed with speculation. "Val, what are you doing?"

  "Hm? Oh, nothing." She shook her head and pasted a bright smile on her face. The expression did nothing except worry Alyssa even more. "I have to go."

  "Val—"

  "Don't worry, I'll be back before long. Great dish, by the way." Val swept past her and disappeared through the swinging doors. Alyssa closed her eyes and groaned, then said a quick prayer that Val would just stay out her love life and leave her alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Hey. Company." JP slid to a stop next to Randy and tapped the back of his legs with his stick. Randy frowned at him, then looked over his shoulder where JP was motioning. Val was leaning against the glass, huddled in a denim jacket. Even from this distance, Randy could see the serious expression in her eyes. He blew out a deep breath and cursed.

  "What the hell is she doing here?"

  JP shrugged then skated off just as the whistle blew. Randy pushed off with his skates and slid across the ice, ignoring the pull in his thighs, the sweat that soaked his pads and jersey. He stepped off the ice and moved out of the way, standing to the side as Val worked her way toward him. A few of the players made some teasing comments, but nothing that would draw his ire. Families were off-limits. That went especially true for his sister.

  "Make it quick, Michaels." Sonny barked the command as he pushed past Randy, not bothering to wait for an answer. Of course he'd make it quick. He wasn't safe yet, not by a long shot. He still had too much to prove, to his agent, to team management. To himself.

  He leaned against the boards and studied the tape on his practice stick, picking at a spot that was torn and frayed. Val came to a stop in front of him and he lowered the stick with a sigh, letting her know with that small sound that he wasn't exactly thrilled with her being here at practice.

  Not because she was bothering him. True, it wasn't like her to be here, but sometimes families showed up, usually the guys who had kids. No, she wasn't bothering him, not really. But he still wasn't completely comfortable around her, not since that night, not since he had nearly gotten her arrested. It didn't matter that she didn't blame him and treated the whole thing like some kind of insane adventure. What mattered was that he had been responsible for the entire thing, him and his temper. It would take some time before he could forgive himself.

  If he ever di
d.

  "Did you know that Alyssa has been recording hockey games to watch when she gets off work?"

  Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. He took a step back and knocked into the boards, then tried to act like the move hadn't been a clumsy accident. But he didn't say anything, because he had no idea how to even respond to that. It didn't matter because Val didn't bother waiting for a response. She stepped closer to him, stabbing her finger in his direction as impatience flared in her eyes.

  "Did you hear me? Alyssa. She's watching hockey. She's recording the games!"

  "Uh, yeah. I heard you." He pushed her finger away from him then inwardly groaned when she placed both hands on her hips and stared at him.

  "So what are you going to do about it?"

  "What?" Randy was having trouble following her conversation, trouble understanding whatever point she thought she was making. It wasn't just because she really wasn't making sense, either. A low buzzing was ringing in his head, the hum working its way down to his gut, where it settled like some kind of weird vibrating rock. The sensation had started as soon as he heard Alyssa's name.

  Guilt? Yes, definitely. He should have called her, he knew that. He wanted to call her. But he couldn't because he was still so fucking screwed up, and she didn't deserve that. But that didn't stop him from thinking about her, didn't stop him from wanting what he couldn't have.

  "I said, what are you going to do about it?"

  "I heard what you said. I just don't know why you think I need to do something about it."

  "Did you not hear me? Alyssa. She's watching hockey games. She's recording hockey games!"

  "Yeah, okay. And?"

  "Alyssa doesn't do sports!"

  Randy stared at his sister, wondering if she was having some kind of breakdown or something, because she wasn't making any sense at all. He looked around to see if anyone was watching them. Relief went through him when he realized they were alone. "Val, I think you've been working too hard—"

  "Oh my God, you are so dense! You're thick-headed, stubborn, and so completely stupid sometimes, I don't understand why I even bother. Don't you get it? Alyssa doesn't do sports!"

  "I heard you the first time, you don't need to shout. But I still don't understand what that has to do with me."

  Val balled her hands into fists and held them to the side of her head before uttering a small scream. Randy looked around again, this time hoping someone would come out looking for him. He knew his sister, knew she was seconds away from some kind of explosion. But the practice arena was eerily vacant. Just his luck.

  "Val—"

  "Listen to me, you stubborn bonehead." She grabbed the front his damp jersey with both hands and stepped so close her forehead nearly banged his nose. "Alyssa is watching games because she's trying to learn more about what you do. Alyssa is watching you! Because you're a complete ass and that's the only time she sees you, because you won't call her."

  "Val, I think you're reading—"

  "No. I'm not. I've known Alyssa for almost half my life. I know her better than she knows herself. Just like I know you. What I don't know is why you're being such an ass when it comes to her."

  And there it was. He should have figured Val was still trying her hand at matchmaking. It didn't matter that he really liked Alyssa, it didn't matter how he felt. What mattered was that he wasn't in a position to give Alyssa anything, not with his entire future in limbo, not when each day brought a chance for complete upheaval. Alyssa didn't deserve that.

  He had already tried explaining that to Val, to tell her what was going on, but she hadn't listened. Maybe she would this time.

  "Val, you know what's going on. What happens if I'm suddenly traded? Or cut loose? What happens at the end of the season?"

  "What happens if you walk outside and get hit by a truck?"

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "You're making excuses, Randy. And they're stupid excuses. Nobody knows what's going to happen. That's never stopped you before."

  "But I have a temper, Val. What if I really lose it one day? This anger management therapy—"

  "Is bullshit and you know it." She tightened her hands in his jersey and gave him a shake, which he barely felt. "Do you want to know what Alyssa said when I told her about the anger management thing?"

  "You told her—"

  "She snorted!" She shook him again. "She actually snorted. Then she said you needed anger management therapy as much as she needed cooking lessons."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Exactly! She thinks you're a teddy bear."

  "What?" Randy didn't know if he should feel insulted, or if he should smile. He didn't have time to make up his mind because Val shook him again and kept right on talking.

  "She said that you're supposed to be tough, because you’re a defenseman. She's actually watched enough hockey to know that!"

  "She told you she thought I was a teddy bear?"

  "Oh God, you're killing me. No, she didn't actually come out and say that, but I can tell. She gets this goofy dreamy look on her face when we talk about you and I just know."

  "You guys talk about me?"

  "Of course we talk about you. Are you not listening to me? Did you not hear what she said? Alyssa said you're supposed to be tough because you're a defenseman."

  "I heard you."

  "But you're not listening!" Val stepped even closer, her nose damn near touching him, temper and impatience flaring in her eyes. "Alyssa doesn't do sports. She doesn't know a damn thing about hockey. But she knows enough to know you're supposed to be tough. If she can see that, why can't you?"

  Neither one of them moved for several long seconds, each staring at the other. Randy tried to process her words, tried to understand whatever convoluted point she was trying to make. And maybe he did understand. Was she trying to tell him that he was being too hard on himself? That maybe he was reading too much into everything? He was going to question her, but she suddenly let go of his jersey and stepped back, like she couldn't put enough distance between them.

  "Oh my God, you reek." Her nose scrunched up, like she had gotten a whiff of something particularly foul. She covered her nose and mouth with one hand and shook her head. "You stink. I mean, really stink. It's disgusting. Do you always smell this bad after practice?"

  "I—" Randy snapped his mouth shut, not sure what to say. Val took another step back then waved her hand.

  "No more bullshit, Randy. Do you like Alyssa?"

  "Of course I like her."

  "Do you want to be with her? And I don't mean just sleep with her."

  Heat filled his face at her words. He did not want to be discussing his sex life with his sister, especially not when it concerned her friend. There were just certain things a man should never have to talk about with his sister, and that was pretty much at the top of the list.

  "Well? Do you?"

  He turned his head and looked out over the empty rink. Did he want to be with Alyssa? Yes. She was funny and smart and he could be himself around her. He had liked her from the start, had even had stupid thoughts of them being together. It was so easy to imagine. But just because it was easy to imagine didn't make it easy in real life. He couldn't let his feelings or any stupid fantasies get in the way of reality, and right now, reality was filled with too many unknowns.

  "You're thinking too hard, Randy. Do you want to be with her? Yes or no?"

  "It's not that—"

  "Yes or no?"

  Randy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. Val was studying him too intently, her clear eyes seeing too much. He sighed. "Yes."

  "Then stop being an ass and do something about it."

  "Like what? It's not that easy, Val. I don't even know where to start."

  "Well, here's a hint for you: pick up the damn phone and call her. Now go take a shower or something, because you stink." She waved her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated grimace, then walked away, leaving him stan
ding there with something like shock seeping through him.

  Pick up the phone and call her.

  Val made it sound so easy. But it wasn't, not really. There was too much going on, too many other things he had to worry about. Yes, he could pick up the phone and call her. But then what?

  He didn't have an answer, but he didn't need one, because Val's voice rang clear in his head, telling him he wouldn't know unless he tried. Bonehead.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Randy stood on the sidewalk, not exactly sure what he was doing. He had reached for the handle three times already. Each time, he let his hand drop back to his side.

  He was starting to feel like some kind of crazy stalker. In fact, he was kind of surprised that someone hadn't called the cops on him. Hell, he'd have called the cops on himself, if he had been watching from a nearby window. Only someone up to no good would be standing in front of an apartment door after one in the morning, trying to decide whether or not to open it.

  This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, thirty-four years old. He didn't need to be standing here like some confused stalker.

  So either open the door, or go home.

  Right. That's all he had to do, open the door. He took another deep breath then reached for the handle, his hand actually closing around it this time. He tugged, felt the door give just a little, but it wouldn't open. He ignored the urge to take that as a sign and pulled on the handle a little harder. There was a small give, then the door swung out.

  Great. He was inside the stairwell. Might as well go the rest of the way. He took another deep breath and climbed the stairs, not caring for the dim bulb that barely provided any light. Didn't Alyssa know that there were crazies out there? Anyone could come up here to her apartment. It wasn't safe. She should lock the front access door, and talk to her landlord about better lighting.

  Except he wouldn't be here if she did that.