Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  DC

  “Edwin, if you say the words ‘the Cup’ one more time before we reach Washington, I will beat you with it.”

  The tall, gangly dude standing next to me on the gangway to the plane opened his mouth and pushed his huge glasses up on his nose as he met me eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe. Edwin Motz was as tall as I was but I was bigger and I used every inch of my professional hockey player body to make my point. “You’ve lectured me every minute of the last three hours on the proper way to touch ‘the Cup’, to look at ‘the Cup’, to think about ‘the Cup’ or to even refer to ‘the Cup’. I’m done. For the two hours of this flight, I’m done.”

  “Mr. Washington,” he protested, his voice perfectly pitched in the usual tone of reverence as he draped his arm protectively around the huge, padlocked container which housed the cup when it traveled with its very nervous caretaker. “If you fail to uphold the standards of dealing with ‘the Cup’ that falls on my shoulders. I have to ensure that you understand. . .”

  I cut him off as an airline representative approached him with an orange bag-check tag and an earnest expression. “Edwin, I understand. It’s crystal fucking clear. I’m a professional hockey player and if anyone understands the importance of the cup housed inside that absurdly large container, it’s me.” I hefted my carry-on over my shoulder and moved towards the entrance of the plane where a very pretty flight attendant was waiting with a first-class seat with my name on it. I threw my last warning over my shoulder. “I mean it, Edwin. You’re the man and you do a great job but if you talk to me about ‘the Cup” before we land in D.C., I will cut you.”

  At my seat, I grabbed my iPad and earbuds out of my bag before I shoved it into the overhead container and gave the attendant my request for an orange juice. My seat was the one by the window and I eased down into it, wedging my six feet two inch, two hundred pound frame into a seat not quite designed for a guy my size. Still, it was better than coach and I sent up a prayer of thanks to the Cajun Rage’s travel office for booking this seat even though I was going to Washington to potentially accept a job with another team. It really wasn’t a surprise. The front office was a class act.

  I fastened my seat belt and then eased back into the leather cushion, letting out a huge sigh of almost-relief. Either way, I’d know my future at the end of this weekend and it eased some of the tension that had been sitting in between my shoulder blades for the better part of three months, well, ever since I decided to go out as a free agent. Closing my eyes, I let the sounds of the other first-class passengers roll over me as I my mind drifted over day’s agenda. It was going to be a long-ass day.

  Who was I kidding? It had been a long-ass year. Ever since I’d decided to hold the press conference and tell the world that I was gay, my life had been nothing but a roller coaster. Supportive teammates, asshole teammates, fans who had my back and those who’d held up posters at games telling me that someone with my sexual preference didn’t belong on the ice. I’d spent twelve months finding out who my friends really were and saying good riddance to those who weren’t.

  A. Long. Ass. Year.

  A familiar voice, pissy and gruff, made me open my eyes and look around. I eyeballed Edwin as he walked past me, talking on the phone to someone about my failure to respect “the cup” or some bullshit and I ignored his narrow-eyed glare. He had a tough job but that guy needed to lighten the fuck up. It wasn’t like I planned to parachute out of the plane with the thing. It was just going to a youth center full of teenagers who were better behaved than most of my teammates. I was glad when he passed the open seat behind me and took one just behind me next to the window. Cool. I was safe from any more lectures for two hours, at least.

  “Hey Jamie, where y’at?”

  My body knew exactly who it was before I opened my eyes. The whisky-smooth voice dripping with a deep bayou burr belonged to the hot-as-fuck man who’d kept me panting after him for the three years I’d played for the Rage. I eased my eyes open and soaked in all six feet four inches of man, body taut with muscle, skin the color of a deep mocha and brown eyes edged with gold. This morning his long, natural afro was pulled back into a low ponytail and his smile was wide and sincere framed by a goatee.

  If I had a dollar for every time I pictured his lips wrapped around my cock, I’d be able to buy my own professional hockey team.

  And I loved the fact that he called me Jamie. Nobody else did that.

  “Hey Etienne,” I swallowed hard, pushing down the nervous shake in my voice.

  I was completely into this guy and although I’d caught the looks he shot in my direction from time-to-time, we’d never taken it anywhere. It wasn’t because he hadn’t known I was interested. My body had given me away at every opportunity by popping a boner whenever he put his hands on me in PT. He’d ignored it. I’d ignored it. I’d told myself that it was because he was on the medical staff of the team and there was a conflict of interest but I knew it was because I hadn’t been out and he’d never been in. In the world of gay men it was like I lived on Mars and he lived on Earth. That was a distance too far to cross.

  And here he was, looking at me like I was the prize at the bottom of his Cracker Jack box with a first class boarding pass in his hand. If there was a God, he would have the seat next to me.

  As if he heard my thoughts, he tossed his phone on the seat in question and lifted a carry-on bag into the overhead, taking a few moments to rummage around for whatever he needed out of it. I watched him, trying not to let on that I was ogling the strip of skin exposed when he lifted his arms and his t-shirt hiked up with the movement. Dark skin, the glimpse of a six-pack and a treasure trail of black hair leading into the waistband of his cargo shorts. Holy hell.

  I took it back. There was a God after all and he loved me.

  He finished what he was doing and picked up his phone and slid into the seat. He pulled a set of earbuds out of his pocket and slid the male end into the female opening before fastening his seat belt. All set, he turned and gave me his biggest smile. My heart rate kicked up a notch. His smile was breathtaking.

  I decided that staring and drooling was going to edge into odd and creepy if I didn’t say something soon. “You going to DC or is that just a connection?”

  “Nope. I’m going to hang out with some friends for the weekend. I love the city and plan to do some cheesy tourist stuff while I’m there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and towards where Edwin sat behind me. “Is this your day with ‘the cup’?”

  “Yep. Taking it to some inner-city kids at a local youth center. I do some work with them and I promised that I would if we won.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “I hope so. They're good kids.”

  “So, you going to meet with the DC team like all the rumors are saying?” He asked, startling me with his directness. While we’d all skated around the issue, none of my teammates or the staff had asked me directly what I was going to do now that I was a free agent.

  I nodded. “My agent and I have a meeting with the DC team. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do.”

  He eyed me carefully, breaking the contact when the flight attendant brought my juice and asked for his order. When she was gone he zeroed back in on me, his deep brown eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “That’s bullshit. You know what you want to do and what you’re going to do.” He leaned in close enough for me to get a whiff of his spicy aftershave and the mint gum on his breath. He made a cross-cross motion on his chest and lowered his voice to a seductive level. “I promise I won’t go tattling back to the big boss.”

  I grinned back at him, rolling my eyes at his foolishness. Etienne was always upbeat, teasing and joking with everyone. His easy manner and quick wit made him an excellent PT and his constant flirtation had made him my secret crush. If a grown ass man of my age could have one of those. What the hell. I’d know this weekend what my future held so it wouldn’t hurt to let him in.

  I locked eyes with him as I move
d in closer, our faces close enough for our breath to mingle. My arm brushed his and he shifted towards me, aligning our sides on the arm rest between us as the moment dragged out. When I finally spoke, my voice was ragged edged and rough with the desire for him rushing through my veins. I could see his pulse throbbing on his neck, just under the beard stubbled skin and I longed to lean forward and lick and suck on that spot until he groaned against me.

  As if he could read my mind, his eyes dilated with his own desire and I was the one biting back a groan.

  “If they offer me a decent deal, I’ll take it. DC is my home.” I wondered if he could hear the tinge of regret in my words.

  He cocked his head, his smile fading a bit at the edges. “Oh Jamie, I was hoping that it was a rumor.”

  We stared at each other, the sounds of the plane preparing for departure just distant background noise. I focused on him, the way he said my name with that sexy southern drawl and the disappointment coating each word. Once again I regretted not pursuing this thing between us. If DC didn’t offer for me, no small consolation would be seeing where this attraction between us would lead back in New Orleans.

  I gave in and indulged in a little harmless flirting. I was no player but I could hold my own. And this might be my last chance to do this with Etienne.

  “Will you miss me if I go?”

  Etienne stared. The only indication that he’d heard was his rushed intake of breath and the wetting of his lips. I leaned in to repeat my question directly in his ear, hoping to coax out a shiver this time, when a figure appeared over his shoulder. Dressed in blue. Perky. Smiling.

  Our flight attendant stood there holding Etienne’s ginger ale and he pulled away, retreating slightly to the other side of his seat and creating distance between us. I settled back in my own space watching the ground crew prepare the airplane for departure and wishing that the friendly skies had better timing.

  Chapter 2

  Etienne

  The flight attendant saved my ass.

  Jamie Washington was a bad idea and I knew it. A sexy, shy, bear of a man who flipped every switch I had. Even when I’d been with David there had been a sexual gravity between us, pulling us into each other’s orbit. And yeah, I’d noticed how hard he’d gotten every time I put my hands on him. Only the discretion afforded by my own uniform pants had spared us from ending up horizontal on my treatment table and jeopardizing both our jobs. The team didn’t prohibit fraternization but getting off when I was supposed to be treating a player would have been too far over the line.

  But this close on an airplane? So close I could smell his warm scent and the woodsy cologne he preferred? Jesus. I’ve never been the one to look for trouble but Jamie was a temptation and I’d gladly follow wherever he led. I slurped down half my drink to cool off my libido, leaning back in my seat as the flight crew went over the safety instructions and the plane took off for Washington, DC. I counted the seconds as they crawled by. I couldn’t do this for the next two hours.

  But small talk? I sucked at it.

  “So, you’re visiting friends? Any special occasion?” Shy Jamie broke the silence and I relaxed with gratitude. I was normally an outgoing guy. Born and bred in New Orleans I was the poster child for Laissez les bon temps roulette. But with this quiet man with the smoky gray eyes? I was tongue-tied more often than not.

  I shrugged. “Nothing special. I haven’t been there in a while and it won’t be long before the season cranks up and the only travel I’ll be doing is with the team. I’m going to play the tourist, make the veiller with my friends.”

  “You got a place to stay? The agent booked me at this cool hotel in Dupont Circle.”

  “I’m staying with my buddy Ryker. His place is near there. I love that area of town. People are always around and the bars and restaurants are all so cool.”

  “Ryker?” Jamie asked, his nose scrunching up in confusion as his smile shown out from the middle of his dark beard. “One name? Like Madonna? Bono? RuPaul?”

  I let loose the laugh that bubbled up at that comment. “He’s more like ‘Sons of Anarchy’ but I’ll make sure to tell him that you compared him to a drag queen. That’ll go over really well.”

  Jamie held up his hands in surrender. “Hey man, I’m not looking for any trouble. Not this close to the season starting. What do you want to do? End my career before it takes off?”

  “I’d say that winning the championship the season you come out as the first openly gay player in the league pretty much says that your career has taken off. You’ve got liftoff. You’re orbiting the universe right now.”

  “Let’s just hope that I can stay up there.” Jamie lapsed into silence, his gaze drifting towards the window and the blue skies and fluffy clouds passing us by. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap, his right leg bouncing up and down and betraying his obvious anxiety at the decisions before him. He was a patient who fidgeted on the table but this was different. He had so many decisions to make, I totally understood.

  And after the year he’d had, he was handling it all really well.

  “I was proud when you came out man,” I said before I realized the words were leaving my brain and shooting out my mouth. He swiveled towards me, both the smile and confusion back on his face.

  “I appreciate that but you already told me.” He reached out and touched arm, giving it a light squeeze before pulling it back again in a lingering stroke. “You even showed up at the press conference. That was . . . really amazing. You have no idea how much that meant to me to see someone like you there, having my back.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Yeah.” He dipped his head down but not enough where I missed the blush of embarrassment across his cheeks. “Men who were out and proud. Men who had the guts to be who they were. I can only imagine what you thought of me.”

  I shook my head, really not understanding this at all. “What I thought of you? Jamie, I admit that I wasn’t thrilled when I figured out you were in the closet but that wasn’t because I looked down on you.”

  “Come on. You don’t have to say that.” He pushed back, his head shaking in denial at my words. “I was a coward.”

  “Fuck that. You were a guy in a game where nobody was out. Nobody. And you had no idea if being yourself would take you away from a game you loved. I got it. I still get it but I was fucking pissed that you had to make that choice.” I looked down and realized that I had the front of his t-shirt gripped in my hand and I was pulling him closer as the conversation heated. Our faces were inches apart once more and it took everything in me not to close the distance and see what he tasted like once and for all. “But I was never pissed at you, Jamie. Never. What you did took guts and balls the size of Texas. I went to the press conference because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see anyone be that brave again in my lifetime.”

  He stared at me, his gaze flickering between my eyes and my mouth and I knew that one shift towards him by me and he’d kiss me. Fuck but I wanted to know. But this was stupid. I had no business starting something I knew would end when he got the offer from the enemy team. And no matter how fun I’d had hooking up since David had moved out, I was looking for something more now.

  I let go of his shirt and lightly pushed at his chest, sending him back into his seat as I settled back into mine.

  “Well, I’m not the hero you make me out to be but that means a lot. Coming from you . . .” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “. . . from you that really means something.”

  My “rah-rah” speech ended the conversation again but this time it wasn’t awkward. We both retreated for a bit, settling into the flight and ordering another round of drinks. I didn’t want to grill him the entire thousand mile flight but there was something I really wanted to know. I wasn’t sure if he’d tell me but that never stopped me before.

  “You didn’t have to do it, Jamie. I’m just wondering why you decided to come out.”

  Jamie had been thumbing through his playlist on his phone but he st
opped his action and looked at me. This time the smile teasing at his lips wasn’t seductive. It was . . .playful. Like he had a delicious secret and he wasn’t sure if he was going to share it or not. And just when I thought he’d refuse to tell me, he responded with a question.

  “What are you doing this afternoon?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

  And that was a deal I couldn’t pass up.

  Chapter 3

  DC

  I heard them before I saw them. As always, they made me smile.

  A wall of sound preceded the group of twenty teenagers pouring into the large recreational space of the Anacostia Youth Center. Etienne took a step back in surprise at the noise, moving further to my right when they bypassed the large, towering silver goblet and headed straight for me.

  I braced myself for impact, my arms extended to return hugs or high-fives to the kids I’d begun to think of as my own younger brothers and sisters. They were even louder up close and I spied Edwin inching closer to the cup, his arms flexing protectively as the kids kicked their excitement up a notch or twelve.

  “DC!”

  “Yo man. You gettin’ huge.”

  “You gonna come play for a real team soon?”

  I laughed as they talked over each other, the trash talk growing as they tried to out do each other. These kids - all LGBTQ - had become a family for each other in the two years the program had officially begun, gaining pride and strength with each day spent together. I was proud to be a member of the Rage but these kids . . . they were the real champions in my mind.

  “Hey!” I shouted over the noise, letting out a loud wolf whistle that cut through their crap and brought the room down a relative level of silence. I pointed at Etienne and he waved to all of them, his smile warm but a little shy. “This is my friend, Etienne. He’s on the medical staff of the Rage.”

  “Is he your boyfriend DC?” J.J. asked, his eyebrows wagging up and down in a move that was supposed to be dirty but only came out as comical since he couldn’t make them shift up and down at the same time. He looked more like a clown with weird party tricks than a teenager trying to embarrass me with a suggestive leer about my sex life. I looked at Etienne and found him eyes wide, biting back a laugh. He was going to be no help so I turned back to the mob.