Suckerpunch

by Elyse Springer

  “No.” Sasha glanced up, draining half the bottle of water in one long pull before catching his breath again. “Sit down. Stop hovering.”

  Alex was the only guy in the room who wasn’t dripping with sweat, since he was on the bench again tonight. He pulled up a folding chair, facing Sasha’s stall, and at least had the good sense to look a little guilty. “I wish there was something I could do to help. This is one hell of a game.”

  “Just—” Sasha motioned with the bottle in his hand. “—talk about something. Distract me from painful bruises for a few minutes.”

  From what Sasha had seen, Alex wasn’t much of a talker with other people. When he was hanging out with Shawn, or even Sasha himself, he tended to open up more. But otherwise he was more likely to watch in silence and live up to his nickname.

  “Oh, okay.” Alex seemed thrown. “Well, how was your Valentine’s Day? Did you do anything last night?”

  Sasha grunted again.

  Alex laughed. “Sorry, when you said talk to you, I guess you meant a one-sided thing. Well, I guess I can tell you what we did.”

  If Sasha was being honest, that was the last thing he wanted to hear about. He’d rather face another twenty minutes of Pittsburgh jamming him into the boards than hear about Alex’s perfect evening with his perfect girlfriend. But he was too exhausted to protest… and too pathetic to want to miss anything that made Alex smile the way he was right now.

  “We went to La Fleur downtown,” Alex said. “Disgustingly fancy and overpriced, but probably the best steak I’ve ever had in my life. Heather got us a table… guess being friends with a celebrity pays off sometimes.”

  Sasha finished off his bottle of water, listening to Alex describe the meal he’d eaten, and the celebrity diners he’d spotted. He couldn’t blame the goalie for taking a date to La Fleur; it was supposed to be the best French restaurant in the city, and even Sasha had been eager to give it a try.

  It took him a second to realize that the food was the only thing Alex was talking about, though.

  “What about girlfriend? You have a nice time together?”

  Alex stumbled midsentence, describing the wine he’d had. “Oh, Heather? Sure, we had a great time. She’s hilarious, you know, like the sister I never had. Told me I have an ‘unrefined palate,’ whatever that means, just because I didn’t like the soup. It was weird, Sasha, I’m telling you.”

  He thinks of his girlfriend like a sister? Sasha blinked in confusion, watching the goalie continue to chatter.

  “Anyways, we skipped dessert. I needed to—” Alex paused for a split second. “—to get ready for the game today, and she had an early on-set call this morning.”

  Alex was watching him with a strange expression in his eyes as he talked, and Sasha blinked away some of the lingering pain and exhaustion from the first period, trying to interpret it. Is he upset that he didn’t get to spend the night with his girlfriend for Valentine’s Day? But that wasn’t upset in Alex’s gaze.

  Sasha shook his head, too tired to figure it out now. “Glad you had a good night,” he said simply.

  A flash of disappointment flittered across Alex’s face, there and gone in an instant, and was followed by something that looked like resignation. “Yeah. It was a nice meal. I’ll let you finish resting. Good luck in the second, okay?”

  He patted Sasha on the shoulder as he went.

  I feel like we were having two very different conversations there. But then Coach came in to prep them for the second, and he had to push Alex’s strangeness out of his mind and focus on the game once again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE PROBLEM, Alex thought, is that Sasha is completely oblivious.

  No, not oblivious. He’d fixed it in his mind that Alex was in a loving, committed relationship with Heather, and nothing that Alex hinted at could shake him from that resolute belief.

  Even blatantly flirting with him wasn’t helping.

  He ran into Sasha and Mikhail in the parking garage as they arrived for the game against Atlanta on Friday night. Alex was getting another start, his third of the month so far, but any attempt to focus on the game and get himself prepared mentally went right out the window when Sasha pulled up in the Camaro and stepped out, dressed in his game-day suit—which clung to his body like it was perfectly tailored, hugging his broad shoulders and making Alex stop dead in his tracks.

  “That suit looks great on you,” he said, when Sasha got close enough for him to speak.

  Mikhail rolled his eyes and muttered something in Russian, then gave them both a pat on the shoulder and took off ahead of them into the arena.

  Sasha’s cheeks were a little flushed, but that was the only sign that Alex’s words had affected him. “You too,” he said. “Very nice.”

  Alex’s suit was off the rack, something he’d picked up back in Portland. He knew it looked good enough on him; he was lucky that even when he was bulking at the end of summer he was still relatively thin and lanky, and didn’t need special tailoring to fit into a suit—Unlike Sasha, he added, with those arms and that ass. God damn.

  But his game-day suit was nothing compared to what Sasha was wearing. The dark gray suit made Sasha’s blue eyes pop even in the dim light of the parking garage. Add in the classic sports car, and Alex wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly expect him to focus on the game ahead.

  “I’m serious.” Alex caught and held Sasha’s gaze, then stepped forward to brush an imaginary piece of lint off Sasha’s arm. This close, he could smell Sasha’s cologne, a hint of something woodsy and expensive mixing perfectly with his natural rich earthy scent. “You look really good today, Sasha.”

  Sasha shrugged off the compliment, but the flush on his cheeks remained. “I’ll give you the name of my tailor. You can impress your girlfriend. She coming to the game tonight?”

  Ugh, it was like Sasha refused to see what was right in front of him. And every time Alex’s attempts fell flat, the doubt flared back up. Maybe he’s really not interested.

  He allowed the subject change, though, turning to walk beside Sasha into the arena. “Nah, Heather’s not a hockey fan.”

  Sasha stumbled a little. “You date a woman who doesn’t like hockey?” He sounded incredulous. “Why?”

  Alex held the door open and followed Sasha inside. Finally, the perfect opening for him to tell Sasha the truth. If he’s not going to accept subtlety, I’ll just have to hit him with the truth head-on. “Well, I don’t.”

  “Hm?”

  Before Alex could explain, though, Akseli came up behind them. “Gentlemen. Ready to destroy Atlanta this evening?”

  Dammit. Alex glanced over at Sasha, frustrated by the interruption, and let himself get drawn into a conversation with the Finnish forward.

  I’ll have to catch him at practice tomorrow or on the road trip next week. I can’t keep playing this game… I need to know one way or another.

  Seattle Sports News (@SeattleSportsNews)

  Spotted injured goalie Eduard Despres on the ice today, skating with no equipment. Trainers say he’s still recovering, but they’re working with Despres to maintain muscle mass and ensure injuries heal properly.

  sports fan in the emerald city (@SEAyaLater)

  Wasn’t this guy ARRESTED for DRUNK DRIVING like 6 weeks ago?? Cascades should suspend him, not let him come skate with the team.

  Chad (@Despresident)

  @SEAyaLater: dude hasn’t been convicted yet. Innocent until proven guilty, ring any bells?! Despres is the best goalie on this team, glad to see him back to skating so we can get back to winning!

  sports fan in the emerald city (@SEAyaLater)

  @Despresident: this team is 13-7-2 since Despres was injured, and Fanning is 4-1. Looks like he and Hertzog are doing just fine. We’ll see about the trial, but I doubt cops accuse Despres unless they have proof!

  SASHA WAS in a great mood when he came into the practice facility on Saturday morning. They’d defeated Atlanta the night before, he’d played well
and gotten a point, and Alex had given another stellar performance in net. Today’s practice was optional, which meant the locker room had a more laid-back air to it as guys pulled their gear on, while those who had taken the option not to skate sat around and chatted before hitting the gym or meeting with trainers.

  Alex looked to be in an equally good mood when he arrived. He set his bag down but didn’t bother to change before heading straight over to Sasha’s stall.

  It was honestly infuriating. Alex was spending so much time around him that Sasha was going crazy trying to constantly restrain himself. He’s off limits, he reminded himself, but as usual his resolve started to crumble when Alex flashed that bright smile at him.

  “Hey, Sasha.” The locker room was empty enough that Alex could slide onto the bench beside him, a long line of muscle and heat seeping into Sasha’s skin through his base layers from shoulder to knee. “You got a second?”

  God, Sasha would always be weak for this man. “Sure. For you, always.”

  Alex smiled shyly, eyes going soft as he glanced up at Sasha through his lashes. He looked nervous, but also sweet, smile a little tentative around the edges.

  “I really wanted to talk to you about something. And I know this isn’t really the best place, but it’s important and I didn’t want to wait.”

  Sasha turned to face Alex, curious. “Of course, anything.”

  Alex hesitated. “This might sound a little weird, and maybe it doesn’t matter to you after all, but—”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Bayer suddenly stood up and shouted across the room, “Hey hey! Look who finally decided to show his face!”

  Sasha caught a glimpse of frustrated disappointment on Alex’s face before he tore his eyes away to see what the commotion was about. His easy smile drained away as he spotted the body filling the locker room doors.

  “Eddie, my man!” That was Merkley, stepping forward to give a one-armed hug as Ed moved farther into the room.

  Beside him, Alex tilted his head. “Oh. That’s Despres?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh. I’ve seen him play, of course, but didn’t expect him to look like that.”

  “Like that” was what had reduced Sasha to single-word responses. He’d seen Ed less than a week prior, but he was shocked by how much had changed since then. Or maybe it was the setting, seeing Ed surrounded by large, bulky, healthy-looking hockey players. Of course his friend looked thinner, less muscular; he’d been in the hospital, and then restricted in working out by the injuries he’d sustained. But now he looked small, almost, and tired like he hadn’t slept for a couple of days.

  Sasha hung back at his locker, watching as his teammates took turns greeting Ed, giving him hugs and handshakes. But that vantage point also meant he could see who chose not to approach the goalie, who looked away awkwardly or whose hugs didn’t linger.

  They’re uncomfortable with him. Even Merks seemed a bit anxious, like he wasn’t pleased with Ed’s presence in the room. It could have just been the captain’s displeasure with having the practice schedule pushed back unexpectedly, but Sasha doubted it. Somehow, in the last six and a half weeks, Ed had stopped being the Cascades’ beloved number one goalie.

  “Sasha!” Ed finally spotted him, and his call jerked Sasha from his contemplations. “Look, I’m back!”

  Sasha smiled and hoped it looked more genuine than it felt. “Looks like you are. How’s the arm?”

  “Eh, it’s healing. Trainers are optimistic.” Ed turned his head, and his eyes widened in recognition as he spotted Alex sitting beside Sasha, before narrowing in obvious dislike.

  Sasha spared a glance at Alex and was surprised to see him wrinkle his nose, as though he’d smelled something awful. Sasha inhaled subtly. Ed doesn’t smell like alcohol. But Alex was backing up too, pushing into the stall he was sitting in as inconspicuously as he could, like he wanted to put distance between himself and Ed.

  “You must be Alexander Fanning.” Ed’s voice was flat, but anyone who knew would know what that tone meant.

  Alex smiled, a fleeting there-and-gone moment of politeness. “Call me Alex. It’s really great to meet you, Mr. Despres.” He didn’t stand up or offer his hand to shake.

  “And you.” Ed looked between Alex and Sasha, and his frown deepened. “I should get going, so you can get to practice. Sasha, let’s have dinner next weekend when you’re back from your trip, eh?”

  Sasha managed another smile. “Of course, Eddie. I’ll text you later.”

  Ed raised his good arm, waving at Sasha. He spared Alex one last look, and Sasha glimpsed anger in his gaze before he turned away to talk to a few other players.

  He didn’t realize how much Alex had tensed up until he felt the smaller man relax at his side.

  “So, that’s Despres,” Alex said again. “Can’t say I’m a fan. He looked at me like I was something he wanted to scrape off the bottom of his shoe.”

  Sasha sighed. “He’s just upset about not being able to play.”

  “Sure, I guess.” But Alex didn’t sound convinced. “Hey, I should go get dressed. I don’t want to be late on the ice; Rico will bag skate me for sure, goalie gear or not.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  He watched Alex go, and it was only when the goalie was back across the room that he remembered Alex had wanted to talk to him about something before Ed had shown up.

  He kept thinking about that through practice. Whatever Alex had wanted to tell him had seemed important, and Alex had looked nervous.

  Sasha tried to track him down after practice ended, only to find him and Shawn tucked in the player’s lounge, talking without realizing he was nearby.

  “He smells horrible,” Alex hissed. “And I get the feeling that he’d do something pretty drastic if he thought I was going to steal his place on the roster.”

  Shawn frowned but didn’t seem too concerned. “You might be overreacting, Phantom.”

  But Alex shook his head, adamant. “Something’s wrong with him, I’m telling you. It’s not the alcohol, either, though I could definitely smell it. It was the way he looked at me; Sasha didn’t seem to notice, but I could see it.”

  They moved on before Sasha could hear anything else, and neither of them seemed to be aware that he’d overheard.

  Sasha exhaled and found a couch to flop down onto.

  He’d known for a while that he was going to have to make a decision between his best friend and the man he was becoming more and more attracted to with every passing day. But Sasha had figured the issue was one-sided, that he just needed to placate Ed in order to find a balance between two of the most important people in his life. Now, though, it seemed like Alex had caught on to the problem too.

  Everything was getting more complicated, and Sasha wasn’t sure how he was going to get through this with both Eddie and Alex in his life.

  Seattle Cascades (@CascadesNHL)

  A short practice this morning, and then we’re off to Minnesota! Hope everyone packed their jackets… it’s going to be a bitter cold Midwest roadie. https://t.co/t9Ci5CUNe7

  DESPRES WAS back at the arena the next day, much to Alex’s frustration.

  The older goalie had been one of his idols for years. When he’d been drafted by the Cascades at age eighteen, he’d immediately started following Despres’s career, modeling his own play after the veteran goaltender and dreaming about a day when he’d get to play side by side with him. But now that he’d met Despres, he was quickly beginning to revise those dreams.

  It wasn’t that Despres was an alcoholic, though that was obviously a very large problem. Alex understood that it was a disease and that even someone as talented and set in life as Eduard Despres could fall victim to it.

  No, it was what came along with the alcoholism—or, maybe, what was already there before and was now amplified with it.

  He hated Alex.

  It was obvious, and Alex wasn’t the only one to have noticed it, though no one else
seemed willing to discuss it. But every time Despres caught sight of Alex, his eyes narrowed and he looked furious. At one point Otter came up to talk to him about the Chicago game, where Alex would be getting yet another start; the smell of something foul had caught Alex’s attention, and when he looked over, he’d seen Despres practically seething a few yards away, clearly listening in.

  “Why is he even here?” he asked Shawn, once he’d escaped to the ice.

  Shawn grimaced, eyes darting over to where Despres was on skates but dressed casually, working one-on-one with a trainer. “I heard from Wilson, who heard from Klausman, that the team is waiting until the results of the court case before they pass any judgment on Ed. Like, they won’t suspend him until they know for sure. So until then, they’re letting him work with the coaches and trainers here so he can maintain muscle mass as he heals.”

  It would have been fine, if Despres didn’t stink up the entire arena with his hate.

  And if he seemed interested in actually healing. Because as he watched, Despres skated to the bench to pick up his own water bottle… only the liquid inside wasn’t water. Alex could smell the clear scent of alcohol all the way across the ice, though he doubted anyone else would have been able to smell it.

  But the question of why Despres hated him so much wasn’t answered until they were getting ready to board the bus to head to the airport for their afternoon flight.

  Sasha was talking to Despres in the back hallway, apparently saying goodbye, and Alex caught a hint of the conversation as he passed by them.

  “You’ll be back soon,” Sasha was saying. “No one’s trying to steal your spot. I promise.”

  Alex nodded politely as he walked around them, smiling blandly like he hadn’t heard. But inside he was raging.

  He thinks I’m going to take over for him as starting goaltender? That’s why he hates me so much? He boarded the bus and threw himself into a seat. Fine. If he wants to be an asshole about it, then he’d better watch out. Because I want to stay on this team. I’ll gladly share the position with him, but if he forces me, I’ll prove to Rico and GM Dubois that I’m better than he could ever be.