Suckerpunch

  “Mmh.” Alex closed his eyes again, sinking into the rich scent and the comforting feeling of Sasha’s hand against his skin.

  Until another cramp struck, and he groaned, curling up on his side and clenching his eyes shut.

  “Oh, Alex.” Sasha rubbed his hair tenderly, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, we need to get up now.”

  Alex lost some time between leaving the arena and getting to the hotel. Even with Sasha at his side, the pain was intense, and he had to breathe carefully to avoid losing whatever liquids he’d managed to keep down so far that morning.

  He was distantly aware of another voice talking to Sasha—Shawn, he realized, recognizing the fresh scent of him. Normally Shawn’s scent was comforting, but today Alex just wanted to bury his nose in Sasha’s neck and ignore everything else.

  But Shawn helped Sasha get him upstairs and into a room with a soft, warm bed and heavy blankets.

  Then Sasha was pulling away, and Alex couldn’t help the moan that escaped him.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  Sasha returned to his side, bringing his scent with him.

  Alex swallowed. “Can you stay? Just for a while.”

  Shawn said something from behind him, but Alex couldn’t focus enough to hear it. He did see Sasha nod, though, and say, “I’ve got it. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

  And then Shawn’s bright scent was gone, and it was only Sasha left in the room.

  Alex relaxed, and closed his eyes. “Don’t go yet,” he murmured.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Sasha said.

  Alex fell asleep that way, Sasha warm at his side and his scent filling the room.

  Emma (@Cascadiac)

  anyone else watching this #SEAvsCGY game right now? Every time the camera pans over the bench, it looks like Fanning is about to pass out. Hope Hertzog doesn’t get injured, because I doubt Fanning is well enough to play.

  Seattle Cascades (@CascadesNHL)

  Cascades manage to hang on for a win, 4-3 over Calgary!

  SASHA KNOCKED on the door to Ed’s sprawling Medina mansion, feeling the guilt return as he stood in the chilly afternoon air.

  He felt even worse when the door swung open to reveal Ed, the hand of his uninjured arm propped on his hip, staring at him with a frown. “Well, then,” Ed declared, “look who finally remembered his best friend.”

  Sasha shifted his weight on his feet and looked away. The last week had been busy; they’d had two games at home to deal with, and two games in Alberta, with practices every day in between.

  It’s no excuse, he berated himself. Eddie’s your friend, and you keep letting hockey distract you from spending time with him while he’s hurt.

  Of course, it wasn’t just hockey that was distracting Sasha. Brown eyes and pale skin flashed through his mind, and the guilt in Sasha’s chest grew heavier.

  “Sorry, Eddie.”

  He must have sounded apologetic enough, because Ed finally scoffed and stood aside to let Sasha in. The weather had rebounded back to the more expected Pacific Northwest temperatures, but it was still windy and damp outside and Sasha was happy to get indoors.

  “I figured you’d come see me after the Nashville game or even before you flew up to Canada, but all I got was silence. No calls, no texts, and now you show up on my doorstep like everything’s fine?” Ed clicked his tongue, closing the door behind them. “I thought we were friends, Sasha.”

  “We are!” Sasha straightened. “I said I’m sorry. It was just a hectic few days, you know? We got back from Calgary last night, and I came here as soon as I had time.”

  It wasn’t a lie exactly. But you had time to get lunch with Alex the day after the Nashville game, instead of coming to see Ed. You had time to go out with your teammates when you could have texted Ed to see how he was doing.

  He’d actually planned to call Ed the day after the Edmonton game. Their schedule that day had been light; a short flight in the morning, a lunchtime practice, and then the entire afternoon to themselves. But Alex had been so sick, and Sasha….

  He hadn’t been able to stay away. Alex had skipped practice, resting in one of the trainer’s rooms instead as he tried to shake off the stomach flu he’d caught. Sasha had found him after practice ended, asleep on a massage table and curled up beneath a thin blanket, sound asleep.

  Alex had blinked his eyes open when Sasha had nudged him, and for a split second, he’d just stared up at Sasha, barely awake and so full of tenderness that the breath had caught in Sasha’s throat. Then stomach cramps had wracked his body, and he’d groaned, curling up on his side as his eyes fluttered shut.

  So instead of calling his friend, Sasha had offered to help Alex back to the hotel, getting him to his room and pulling the heavy comforter over his body. He’d curled up in a chair in the corner and listened to Alex breathe, and he hadn’t even thought about Eddie once.

  After the game against Calgary—after Alex had somehow managed to sit on the bench for three full periods, looking miserable and pale—they’d flown home. Sasha had sat beside him, letting Alex sleep on his shoulder until the plane had touched down in Seattle.

  And then, for the second time in as many weeks, he’d watched as Alex got off the plane and went straight to the gorgeous blonde woman who had been waiting for him, looking at her like she was made of pure gold.

  It had hurt. It still hurt.

  But Sasha couldn’t say that aloud.

  So instead he gave Ed his most weary stare and said, “You know how it is, man. You’ll be back soon enough anyway, so you can join us on these hellish road trips.”

  “Damn right I will,” Ed replied. “Docs said the break and the shoulder should both be about twelve weeks, and it’s been four already. I talked to the trainers, and they said I could come in starting the second half of February to do physical therapy and train.”

  That was unexpected. “They’re letting you come back?”

  “I’m still on the team.” Ed’s voice rose as he talked, going from even-keeled to upset in the blink of an eye. “They can’t just kick me off.”

  Sasha took a step back. “No, I meant, I thought with the trial and all….”

  “Well, obviously the team isn’t worried about that.” Ed waved a hand dismissively. “They know I won’t be convicted, so why not let me train until then?”

  The raw confidence in Ed’s voice made Sasha uncomfortable. “You have a trial date scheduled?”

  Ed nodded. “First week of April. It was the soonest my lawyer could get me in, even pulling whatever strings he could. But it means I’ll be ready for playoffs for sure, especially if I can start back with the trainers in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s great, Eddie.”

  It was great, Sasha told himself. He wanted Ed back, playing in the net behind him and making sarcastic comments during breakages in play. He wanted the familiar face on the other side of the locker room and the easy familiarity of having his best friend around to talk to.

  But if Ed comes back, Alex leaves.

  And that… was not great.

  Ed walked farther into the house, and Sasha trailed behind him, biting his lip in thought.

  “Anyway,” Ed continued, “I’ll send you the info for the trial. Date, time, location, all that. You have two days off between games that week, and I made sure the trial is on one of them so you can stop by and testify on my behalf.”

  And that was another problem altogether. Sasha followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge, watching Ed move around confidently to pull a couple of glasses from a cabinet.

  “Ed, I want you back on the team so badly,” he began.

  Then Ed reached up and pulled a bottle of whiskey off the shelf, unscrewing the top and pouring them both a generous amount.

  It’s only two o’clock in the afternoon.

  Ed took the sudden silence as an affirmative, turning to pass one of the glasses to Sasha. “Glad you’re on my side, brother.” With
his now-free hand, he dug a bottle out of his pocket and popped the lid one-handed, shaking a small white pill out on the counter before returning the bottle to its place.

  I want you back on the team, Sasha mentally finished, but something is seriously wrong here, and I’m not sure that me lying to a judge is going to make anything better. He was a hockey player and spent most of his free time surrounded by hockey players. He knew how to drink—hell, his team could put an entire frat house to shame, given a really good night. But everyone on the team knew where the limits were, knew to only drink with their teammates and not get too carried away. This? Drinking straight Jack in the middle of the afternoon, popping pain pills and washing them down with booze? This was so far past those limits that Ed couldn’t even see them anymore.

  Sasha cupped his hands around his own glass and didn’t take a sip, physically queasy from what he was witnessing. “Yeah, Eddie, I only want what’s best for you.” Even if that means getting treatment… because I’m starting to think you need it.

  “Cheers, my friend,” Ed said, and poured himself another drink.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seattle Cascades (@CascadesNHL)

  We’re home for three games in a row, and a day off on the 14th in between! Haven’t gotten your special someone a #ValentinesDay card yet? No worries, we have you covered with these #CascadesValentines! https://t.co/hHgW3igrM0

  Mrs. Merkley… a girl can dream! (@MerkleyFan96)

  Okay, these @CascadesNHL Valentines win the internet today. “I love my significant Otter!” “I would Rybar be with you than anywhere else!” “I love you more than I can Bayer!” I CANNOT STOP LAUGHING!

  “YOU’RE DISTRACTED,” Heather said, taking a sip of her wine. “Is the steak not good?”

  The steak was excellent, as was the wine and the rest of the lavish meal spread out between them. Alex glanced down at his half-eaten plate and sighed. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s one of the most expensive steaks in Seattle, cooked to medium-rare perfection, so tender that it melts in your mouth, but it’s fine?” Heather laughed.

  Alex stared down at the plate, moving a pile of mashed potatoes from one side to the other methodically.

  It wasn’t that anything was wrong, exactly, but every time he looked across the table, with its vase of roses and expensive wine, he couldn’t help but wish there was someone else sitting across the table from him.

  “Oh, Alex,” Heather murmured. “You have it bad, don’t you?”

  Alex nudged his steak around and didn’t look up.

  She laughed again and tapped the table with her perfectly manicured nails. “If I was any other woman, I’d probably be a little insulted. Most people don’t want their Valentine’s Day dinner partner to be longing for someone else and moping throughout the entire meal.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Heather leaned in closer. They were at an intimate two-person table, tucked away in a private corner of one of Seattle’s finest dining establishments. There were bouquets of red roses everywhere Alex looked, more than enough to block them from casual view of their fellow diners. It was as isolated and secure a location as they’d find in public, but Alex was still thankful when Heather lowered her voice to a whisper before saying, “You know that I can sense when you’re thinking about him, right?”

  He knew, but that didn’t mean he was going to admit to anything. “There’s nothing to sense.”

  She licked her lips pointedly and curled her mouth in a teasing smile. “No? We’re out on Valentine’s Day. Everyone around us is overflowing with so much love and sexual desire that I could stay here all night feeding and none of them would notice a thing. But you, Alex, are a black hole. A pit of misery and longing that is adding a very sour taste to a very lovely meal.”

  Alex set his fork and knife down and fumbled for his water glass. “Heather, you know that I—”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. You’re gay, you’re a professional athlete, you don’t want to draw any attention to yourself, and the man you’re desperately pining after probably doesn’t return your affections anyways. Did I get it all?”

  Alex stared moodily down at his plate. “The problem is, I think he might actually return them.”

  Heather set her wineglass down, and her eyes went wide. “What?”

  “I said, I think he might—”

  “No, I heard you.” Heather kicked him under the table. “When were you going to tell me about this? How long have you known?”

  “Ow, geez.” If Shawn was like a brother to him, Heather was fast becoming like a sister—complete with every annoying stereotype he’d ever heard of. Alex pulled his leg back out of her reach. “I don’t actually know for sure, okay. Just… we’ve been getting closer, and he keeps giving me these looks, like he’s interested.”

  Heather picked her glass back up, eyes gleaming with delight. “But he hasn’t made a move yet?”

  Alex shook his head. “We had lunch last week. There was a second where I thought… well.” He blushed and lowered his voice even more. “Anyways, I realized that even if he’s interested, he’s not going to do anything about it.”

  “Because of your teammates?”

  “No, because of you,” Alex said.

  That took Heather aback. She blinked, then exhaled as understanding washed over her. “Of course.”

  Alex finally took a bite of his food, chewing slowly while he thought. “I want to tell him the truth. Not,” he rushed to add, “about us being… you know. But that we’re not really dating.”

  “You should. If you want to break this off entirely, you know—”

  “No.” Alex cut her off. “Just Sasha.”

  The smile that passed over Heather’s lips was a little sad but full of understanding. “You’re still worried about your teammates knowing?”

  It wasn’t that Alex was worried. Shawn had joked about the bet they had going, but he’d also made it clear that the locker room would be welcoming enough if he came out. But he still didn’t have a fixed place on the team, and anything that could rock the boat could jeopardize his chance to get a shot at the roster for real.

  “It would be easier,” he finally said. “Simpler.”

  Heather nodded.

  But the more Alex thought about it, the more he wanted to let Sasha know that he was gay. But I can’t just tell him. Sasha had been looking at him lately with such blatant longing and had taken such tender care of him when he’d been sick in Calgary, but that didn’t mean he’d leap at the chance to be with Alex.

  Heather reached across the table and squeezed his hand, then leaned back in her seat. “You should say something to your Sasha.”

  “He’s not my Sasha.” Not yet, but maybe someday. “And I will. I just need to figure out the right way to do it.”

  “And you’ll tell me all about it once you manage to get your man into bed?”

  Alex laughed, head falling back. Succubi, he thought, amused. “You only want us to have sex so you can feed off the residual emotion.”

  She winked. “Well, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to tell me all about it. Every time you think about him, it’s like biting into a truffle—rich, earthy, decadent.”

  The words were eerily familiar. That’s how Sasha smells to me. Even though the defenseman was miles away right now, Alex could still conjure that mouth-watering scent.

  “Yes,” Heather said, licking her lips. “That’s it exactly.”

  Alex swallowed hard. “I can’t—I won’t get my hopes up yet. I like him a lot, and we’ve finally started to become real friends. And I know he cares about me, and I care about him, but I can’t risk messing that up until I’m sure.”

  “Subtlety, then.”

  “Yeah. For now.” Alex laughed again, shaking his head. “And if he doesn’t take the hints, I’ll probably just have to corner him and kiss him senseless.”

  Heather finished her wine and dabbed her mouth with a napkin, c
areful not to smear her lipstick. “That sounds like a plan. Now, I think we should skip dessert. You still need to feed before tomorrow’s game, and I definitely wouldn’t mind seconds of the lovely meal you just shared with me.”

  Her amused gaze said she wasn’t talking about the steak.

  “I hope you all had a nice, sweet day yesterday, because tonight is going to be a bitter one as the Cascades take on Pittsburgh here in Seattle. There’s a rivalry between them going back to the Stanley Cup Finals from seven years ago, when Seattle lost to Pittsburgh in overtime of Game 6 after an illegal check behind the play didn’t get called by the refs. So even though these two teams meet up only twice a season, it’s always a vicious matchup when they do.”

  KTCP Radio 102.7, Cascades Pre-Game Show

  SASHA WAS sweaty and sore by the start of the first intermission. He hadn’t been on the team when the rivalry against Pittsburgh had been established, but he’d heard about it from Klausman, one of the only guys on the team who’d been playing back then. But just because he hadn’t been involved in the rivalry personally didn’t mean Pittsburgh was going to pull their hits on him. He could feel bruises coming up, and his muscles were screaming for relief.

  So he was in a mood when he walked into the locker room for intermission, trying to radiate leave me alone as loud as possible. Most of his teammates picked up on the silent signals easily enough… except, of course, for Alex.

  “Good period,” he said cheerfully.

  “Ugh.” Sasha found his stall and slumped onto the bench, breathing hard. “Not gonna survive forty more minutes of this.”

  “I believe in you.” Alex passed over a bottle of cool water, which Sasha took gratefully. “You want me to grab you a protein bar or something?”