Puck Love

by Carmen Jenner

“Oh, my god.”

  “He’s okay. Fights happen all the time,” Emmett says, but his palm is flat against the glass, and somehow, I think he’s only remaining calm for my benefit.

  “They do?”

  “Uh-huh,” he says, but he’s frowning. “He usually gets up quicker than this though.”

  “Is there something we can do?”

  “Nope, just stay out of the way.”

  A stretcher is wheeled onto the ice, and after a few minutes, Van is lifted onto it and wheeled down the tunnel. “Where are they taking him?”

  “Hospital,” Emmett replies, his voice grim. The teammate who’d been talking to Van before he got hit skates over to our side of the rink and motions to the penalty box. His face is dripping sweat and blood onto his jersey. Emmett and I move closer.

  “Hey, Em. Van’s hit, pretty bad.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand, and he glances at me.

  “I’m Eli,” he says in a strange half-French accent.

  “Stella.”

  Eli blinks a moment and does a double take. His gaze penetrates my ruse, and I swallow, hard. He grins. “That sly dog. No wonder he was so cagey.”

  “Please don’t say anything.”

  “Secret’s safe with me, sweetheart. Now, what are we going to do with you two?”

  I frown. “I can drive Van’s Hummer to the hospital.”

  “No!” Emmett shakes his head vigorously. “The last time she drove she ended up crashing into our mountain.”

  Eli chuckles, as if Emmett was trying to be funny, but when he sees the expression on my face, he balks. “You can’t drive?”

  “I can,” I protest. “I just haven’t had a whole lot of experience, and that moose came out of nowhere.”

  Eli wipes a hand over his face. It comes away bloody. “Okay, well I’ll take you guys back to the cabin. They won’t let us in the hospital room with him anyway—not until they’ve run a shitload of tests. I’ll bring him back when he gets the all-clear from the doc.”

  “I can drive,” I say, resolutely. I don’t want to go back to the cabin. I want to be with Van. I can’t stand the thought of him being all alone in the hospital. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

  “Sure, he is, but Gagnon may not be.” Eli glances across the ice at his teammates and coaches. The guy who hit Van is bleeding profusely from the mouth and head. Good.

  “He’s a dick.” I’m filled with hate. I have half a mind to climb over this glass and go beat the crap out of him myself.

  Eli chuckles. “Yes he is.”

  “Listen, everyone’s leaving, but sit tight here. You’ll have less chance of being spotted. Once all these people are gone, I’ll meet you at Van’s car.”

  “Okay.” I nod, and sit down in the seat closest to me. My legs are a little wobbly. When I glance at Emmett, he’s visibly just as shaken as I am. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “It happens all the time. Welcome to the world of hockey, Stella Hart.”

  I sigh. If this is my introduction, I’m not sure I want to stick around for the championships.

  Emmett and I walk somberly through the empty stadium and out into the crisp morning air of a beautiful Calgary day. I lean against the truck, suddenly bone-tired, and wonder if Van is okay. Is he awake? Is he in pain? He hit the ice so hard—I can’t see how he wouldn’t be. Eli comes out of the building along with several teammates, and it kills me to have to hang back and not rush over, but I wait until he says goodbye and practically spring at him as I hand him Van’s keys. “I wanna go to the hospital.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “It’ll be crawling with reporters by now. I’m guessing no one knows you’re still here.”

  “But Van’s hurt.”

  Eli grins. “Yeah, and he’ll live.”

  “We should be there.”

  “Why? So, we can sit around a waiting room all day, being asked for autographs?” He leans forward, looming over me the way Van might. “No. You and Emmett will go to Van’s. I’ll bring him home when he’s done.”

  “But—”

  “Wow, you really don’t give up, do you? Listen, I don’t know how long this little thing has been going on, but I know you’re not Emmett’s speech therapist.”

  I frown in confusion. “He told you that?”

  “Yeah, and if he wanted to keep it from me, he wants to keep you around a little longer. Now, he’s gonna need someone to nurse him back to health, and judging by the look on your face, I’d say you’re not opposed to that idea.”

  I blush. “I . . .”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart—he has that effect on everyone.” He winks and climbs into the car. I open the front door and scramble in beside him. Emmett is already in the back.

  “He’s going to be okay, right?”

  “He’ll be fine. The coach said he was asking to get back on the ice as they put him in the ambulance. They’ll run a few tests, and likely release him in a couple hours. We all take a hit at some point.” Eli turns on the engine and peels out of the parking space. “Em, you wanna call your mom and have her come home from that conference a little early? It’s probably best if you stay with her or me tonight so that Van can rest. He won’t be able to drive for a few days.”

  “I can drive,” I say in a monotone.

  “Yeah, that’s not the best plan. Accidents tend to draw a crowd.”

  I glare at him. “Hey, screw you. I’m not that bad. I don't even know why you’re driving us now.”

  “Because Emmett is pretty particular about who he gets in the car with. Right, Em?” Eli says, looking in his rear-view mirror at the man in question.

  “I’m on the phone, dickweed,” Emmett snaps. Eli chuckles, but I don’t have the heart to laugh, not when I’m so worried about Van.

  Eli floors it through the same security gate I passed with Van just a few hours earlier, but this time everything feels different. I don’t know what to do. I should hop on the next flight back to Nashville, but the thought of leaving now twists my stomach and sends my heart hammering against my ribs. I don’t want to leave. I want to know that he’s okay. I want to be useful. I can’t abandon Van when he needs someone to take care of him the way he’s taken care of me.

  Emmett continues to talk to his mother from the backseat, and Eli is busy navigating through the downtown Calgary traffic. I ball my hands into fists, and tap my foot impatiently. I don’t know why I’m so on edge. Eli said Van would be fine, but I can’t help thinking of him lying in a hospital bed somewhere all alone.

  “Turn the car around,” I say impulsively.

  “No.” Eli shakes his head.

  “Turn the car around; he can’t be there by himself. He—”

  “Stella, you walk in that hospital, and all of this blows up in your face. There will be paps and reporters banging down his front door wanting to get just a glimpse of the two of you together. You can’t be seen with him, or it’s all over, and I’m betting your people want you back pretty badly, or they wouldn’t be offering a reward for information on your whereabouts.”

  “What?”

  “All of Canada is trying to find you.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “You walk into that hospital, and you kiss the peace and quiet of Van’s cabin goodbye,” Eli says. I let my head fall back against the seatback with a sigh. “What the hell are you running from?”

  “I don’t know. My life, the fans, the paparazzi—everything.”

  “What’s so bad about all of those things?”

  “I don’t know. I just—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t breathe.” Tears prick my eyes, and I gulp back mouthfuls of air, but it’s as if my lungs are covered in shrink wrap.

  “Shit. Take a breath, sweetheart. I can’t have you passing out on me today, too.” We’re on the highway now, but Eli pulls over into the emergency lane and brings the car to a stop. He winds down my window and unbuckles my belt, and I grab hold of the doorframe, gasping. I don’t get out, but I rest my head
in my hands until the cool air calms my flushed skin and I can breathe easy again. “Jesus, Stella, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

  “It’s okay,” I say, after several deep breaths. “Just your standard panic attack. I have them every time I perform, but the worst of them sent me running away from a stadium full of people.”

  “Are you sure it’s worth it then?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately.”

  “Stella?” Emmett says. “If you quit, you have to come live with us so I can hear your music. And if you get panicked you can just take a deep breath and we’ll wait.”

  I smile wistfully at him. The Ross boys sure know how to steal a girl’s heart. “Thanks, Em. That makes me feel a little better.”

  “Em’s smarter than us all.” Eli holds his fist out for Emmett to bump. Emmett smacks it hard with a chuckle, and Eli shakes his wrist out as if that hurt. I don’t blame him; it sounded painful.

  “Damn straight,” Em crows.

  Eli turns to me. “You ready to hit the road again?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Silence falls over the car, and for a long time I think about what Emmett said. The strange thing is, I could see it. I could see me letting it all slip away. Uprooting my entire life and hiding out at Van’s cabin for the rest of my days. Which is completely crazy. I mean, we don’t annoy one another that much, but I hardly know the man. The idea of leaving everything I worked so hard for is insane. Who does that? No. I need to go back. I’m just not ready to face the music yet, but I will be. I’ll help nurse Van back to health—assuming he doesn’t follow down the path my house plants took because I couldn’t keep a single one alive—and then I’ll go back home to Tennessee with my tail between my legs. I’ll forget all about Van Ross, and his Rocky Mountain home that has been my refuge for the last two weeks, because I am Stella Hart. Nashville’s sweetheart.

  It doesn’t matter that I might break my heart in the process.

  I wake to pain. I try to open my eyes, but it’s too bright, so I scratch at the thing sticking out of my hand. I hit what feels like tape, and a plastic tube, and call me a baby, but it hurts like a bitch. So does my head, and there’s that ever-present ache in my shoulder.

  “Hey, look who’s awake. It’s Ice Man.” Eli’s irritatingly familiar voice rattles around in my head, and judging by the harsh florescent overhead lights, and the fucking needle in my arm, I’m in a hospital bed. “Welcome back, asshole.”

  “Ah, shit. What the fuck happened?”

  “You don’t remember our capitaine beating the shit out of you on the ice?”

  “Goddamn prick.”

  “He’s on suspension.”

  I roll my eyes, and even that hurts like a bitch. Fucking concussions. “Great, but where does that leave the team?”

  “Fucked if I know. I been here with your dumb ass all afternoon.”

  “Where’s Emmett?” Stella. Shit. What happened to Stella? Did she see Gagnon beating the shit outta me? Did someone recognize her?

  “Downstairs with your maman, drinking the shit hospital coffee in the la cafétéria. They’re minus a speech therapist, though,” he says with a grin, and I don’t even have to ask, because I know what’s coming.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, secret’s out.”

  “How out, exactly?” I attempt to sit up, and he pushes me back against the pillow.

  “Easy, there. You hit your head pretty hard.”

  “Where is she? Where’s Stella?” The heartrate monitor beeps through the roof.

  “I took her to the airport.”

  “What the fuck, man? What the hell did you do that for? Jesus Christ. I’m gonna need a lift.”

  “Hey, chill the fuck out. I just wanted to see your reaction. She’s at your house. Speech therapist, my ass. You know, you scared the shit out of her.”

  “Does my mom know? You didn’t tell anyone, did you? Please tell me you didn’t fuck this up for me.”

  “I don’t think I like what you’re implying. I can keep a secret, Ross.” He laughs. “But the fact that you’re so cagey makes me know you’re in way over your head here.”

  “It’s not even like that.”

  “You should have seen her face. Em and I had to talk her down from flying right into the hospital to hold your hand.”

  “You did?” I attempt to sit up again, but my head spins. I try shrugging. My shoulder isn’t on board with this action either. “I mean, I’m sure it’s just because she’s never seen a game or anything before.”

  “Oui, je suis sûr que c'est exactement.”

  “English, asshole.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it exactly,” Eli deadpans. “Did you fuck her yet?”

  “No.”

  “What? She’s been hiding out in your house and you haven’t slipped it in?”

  “Don’t be a dick.”

  “What? Elle est chaude. Je la baiserais.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you just said, but I don’t like your tone. You better shut the fuck up right this second because if you don’t, I’m gonna climb out of this bed and strangle you with the tube from my fucking IV.”

  “Ha! See? You might not be getting any, but you’re fucked either way.”

  He’s right. I am fucked, because Stella Hart, the hottest woman I’ve ever met, has been in my house for weeks and despite that one little kiss, I haven’t made a move yet, and I’m not sure she’ll be happy if I do. I promised her refuge from a world that wants too much from her, and I can’t very well drive her away with unwanted advances, but I’ll go fucking crazy if I don’t get to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her. And I don’t care. Eli’s right; I’m shacking up with a virgin, and still I find myself well and truly fucked.

  Jesus Christ.

  Four hours after Eli and Emmett left, the Hummer pulls up in the drive. Eli gets out and walks around to the passenger side of the vehicle. I press my nose to the glass, and then run to the front door, throwing it wide. A gust a cool air blasts my hair all around my face, and my skin turns to gooseflesh. Eli trails behind Van as they slowly walk up the path. He has two butterfly bandages over his left brow, his eye and cheek are puffy from the fight, and his arm rests in a sling. He grins down at me, and all my breath leaves me in a rush. It’s been a really long day, and banged up as he is, he’s a sight for sore eyes.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hi,” I say breathlessly.

  “Honey, we’re home,” Eli singsongs with a smirk, and Van turns and uses his free hand to give him the finger.

  “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” He nods. “Did you miss me, country?”

  “Oh my god, I thought you were going to die,” I blurt, and wrap my arms around him. Van hisses. His whole body tenses up and I shrink back. “Sorry. Where does it hurt?”

  “Everywhere,” he mumbles, but he gives a halfhearted chuckle and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Can we come in? I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

  “Oh, shit . . . sorry.” I step back and allow them to enter. Van’s a little wobbly on his feet as he heads for the den and eases his big body onto the couch closest to the fire.

  Eli throws his arm around my shoulder. “So, wifey, what’s for dinner?”

  “Shut up, Boucher,” Van says, wincing as he positions his legs on the ottoman and rests his head against the buttery leather.

  “Hey, I’ve been running my ass all over town for you. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that your little housewife cooks me a nice hot meal.”

  “I can’t cook,” I admit, shirking out of his grasp.

  “She really can’t,” Van says. “She’s fucking shocking. Tried to make eggs and almost burned the goddamn house to the ground.”

  I frown and decide a subject change is in order. “Where’s Emmett?”

  “My mom’s.”

  “Oh, so it’s just you and me again, huh?”

  “And me.” Eli grins.


  Van’s smile disappears. “Yeah, but you’re leaving.”

  “And if I leave now how are you gonna get up the stairs to bed?”

  “I’ll just sleep here.” Van stretches. His face screws up in a grimace.

  “Are you okay? Can I get anything for you?”

  Van smiles, and I think there’s a good chance he’s hopped up on pain meds because he leers at me with no attempt to hide it. I’m used to his cheeky grin, his lips curling up in the corners or an out-and-out smirk of irritation, but I’ve never quite seen this look in his eyes as his gaze rolls over me, drinking me in as if I’m a tall glass of water and he’s suddenly parched.

  “No, Stella,” he says, gently shaking his head. He glances at the guitar in the corner. “Will you sing for me?”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  I glance nervously between him and Eli, who flops down on the sofa opposite Van. “But I’m not warmed up. And I think we should definitely eat first, don’t you?”

  “Eli can get us dinner.”

  “What? I’m not getting you shit.”

  “Order in.”

  Eli props his feet on the coffee table. “Oh, right, and have them drive their fucking snow plow up the mountain. Jesus, what drugs do they have you on, and can I have some?”

  “Please?” Van gently moves his head, shooting puppy-dog eyes at his best friend. “You wouldn’t leave your crippled teammate in pain and starving, would you? I need to consume twice as many calories as the regular person, you know?”

  “Yeah, I got that, being a pro-athlete myself and all. But your naughty nurse is here now, so maybe she can fix you something to eat?”

  My eyes widen, because the only thing I’m capable of making is PB&J, and even then, it’s only because there’s no heating of any kind involved.

  “No! I wasn’t kidding when I said she can’t cook for shit.”

  “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know?”

  Eli lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

  Van smiles. “I love you, man.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go get some takeout,” he says. “Do me a favor and don’t let him take any more pills while I’m gone, will you?”