Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  “We won’t tell,” Aaron blurted out. “Promise.”

  “We pinky swear,” Tiff agreed, extending hers to Zim.

  Zim wrapped his pinky around hers, and they shook. He repeated the gesture with Aaron, careful not to jostle him too much.

  “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. And I might bring something extra special for you tomorrow, for being such good sports.”

  “A jersey!” Aaron was practically vibrating, he was so excited.

  Zim chuckled. “We’ll see, little man. I should get going for now.”

  Aaron’s face fell.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “You promise?”

  Zim nodded. “I promise.”

  Unless Sujarta Meriwether had her way.

  Zim decided to get going while the going was good. He turned and had made it as far as the door when he felt a tug on his shirt.

  “Hey, Subzero?”

  “What’s up, Tiff?”

  “You’re really coming back tomorrow, right?” She placed her little hands on her little hips, challenging him.

  “I promised I would.”

  Tiff’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. Her judgmental gaze actually made him squirm.

  “Don’t break your promise, Aaron would get really upset. And then I’d get mad. And you don’t want me mad. I’ll go on every hockey forum and tell them how shitty you were.”

  “Whoa!” Zim leaned back. “Language.”

  Tiff shrugged. “I just wanted to be clear.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Old enough to know a liar when I see one.”

  Ouch.

  “See you tomorrow, Tiff.”

  “I better,” came Tiff’s reply as the elevator doors closed.

  5

  Suji finished checking the vitals on her newest patient, a seven-year-old who had gotten hit by his neighbor’s car while riding his bike. Little Maurice would be okay, thank goodness. Just a few cuts and bruises. They’d kept him overnight for observation, just in case. But Suji was glad to be able to tell his parents that he would be okay.

  A bit of good news in an already crazy day. Tomorrow wasn’t shaping up to be any better.

  Con was the jock? Of course, Con was the jock, that’s just how the universe rolled when it came to Sujarta Meriwether.

  Hey, Suji, sweetie, baby, we know you don’t put yourself out there often, so here’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen. But wait, you’re gonna hurl on his shoes and run home like a coward. And then we’ll send him to your workplace to cause all kinds of hell for you. Sound fun?

  No. It didn’t sound like fun at all.

  Hot, hunky man aside, there was enough chaos around the ward without throwing a photo-opportunistic football player, or whatever he was, into the mix. Nevermind that Con was built like the Great Wall and looked like some ancient, Greek statue, with his chiseled jawline and full, wide mouth. Suji didn’t need him or his media circus disturbing the children. Or her.

  She rounded the corner just in time to catch sight the man himself as he stepped into the elevator. Suji ducked behind a file cabinet before he could see her. Of course, it had nothing to do with wanting to get another peek at him before the doors closed.

  “Friend of yours?”

  Mimi Jordan, one of the ward’s acute care nurse practitioners, snuck up on Suji, scaring her half to death in the process.

  “No.” Suji stepped out of her hiding place. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. They weren’t friends just because they’d spent the better part of last night getting sweaty on a dance floor.

  “He’s the guy coming here tomorrow for a photo op with the director. Apparently, he won some sports trophy and needs to balance out his undoubtedly obscene paycheck by pretending to give a shit about sick kids.”

  “Wow.” Mimi crossed her arms and studied Suji. “Project much?”

  “What do you mean?” Suji walked over to the nurses’ station. They had several patients scheduled for release, including young Maurice, and she wanted to make sure their paperwork was in order.

  Mimi followed close behind.

  “It couldn’t be that you're lumping that guy in with your ex, could it?”

  “What? No. I-I only just met Con…er…the guy, and didn’t even really do that.” Suji was a horrible liar. She could feel her cheeks burning and turned away to cover. “He was in Dr. Morris’s office when I went to talk to him about canceling the whole thing. I just find it reprehensible that anyone would use a place like this to make themselves look good in the press, especially someone who gets paid to bash others’ heads in for a living.”

  “He’s a boxer?”

  “Er…no. Football.”

  “Ah.”

  Suji paused. “I think, anyway it doesn’t matter. I don’t like it, and I don’t want him here.”

  “I don’t know, Suji,” Mimi hedged. “He didn’t seem so bad.”

  “You spoke to him?”

  “Briefly. Tiffany accosted him before he left.”

  “She what?”

  Tiffany Bradford was one of Suji’s very first patients. Six years ago, she had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Suji had been her nurse before the young girl had been put on an experimental treatment that allowed her to return home. A treatment that had proven very successful. Tiffany was four at the time.

  Typically a chatty, precocious child, it had broken Suji’s heart to see her back in Dr. Morris’s office two months ago. Tiffany had sat quietly in the chair, listening to Calvin explain to her parents that her cancer had indeed returned.

  “What did she do? What did he say?”

  Mimi grinned. “She grabbed his hand and hauled him off to the game room for a while. Apparently, she knew who he was.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yeah, she seemed really excited to meet him. Started rattling off stats at me when I didn’t recognize the guy.” Mimi chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Stats?”

  “Something about goal percentages, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I watch figure skating and tennis. The rest is lost on me.”

  Suji looked toward the game room, hoping for a glimpse of the little imp. “I’ll have to have a chat with Tiff about talking to strangers.”

  “We kept an eye on them,” Mimi assured her.

  “Oh, I know.” Suji gave her a reassuring smile. “But, still.”

  Mim grabbed a notepad and a pen. “So, what do we need to do to prepare for tomorrow?”

  “Who’s on the roster?”

  Mimi stepped around the desk and sat in one of the chairs in front of a monitor. “According to the schedule, Patsy…”

  “Oh good.” Suji exhaled. “She’ll keep things from getting out of hand.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. Tim will be here until eleven, and it looks like the twins are on the overlapping shift. I’ll be in too. Plus the nursing students.”

  The twins weren’t actually related but were so similar in appearance and temperament that the nickname had stuck. Suji had an excellent staff. The best, in her opinion. As the youngest Head Nurse in the hospital’s history, Suji didn’t need any fuck-ups on her watch. She ran her ward like a ship. The nursing students could be a handful, but they weren’t her problem.

  “Between our group and the students, we should be able to handle the shitshow this is bound to be.”

  Mimi raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Wow, you really aren’t expecting much, are you?”

  “Dr. Morris mentioned something about him donating money to the new ward or something. That’s the only reason I’m not putting a stop to the whole thing altogether.”

  Mimi sighed dreamily. “But he seemed so nice, and he is exceedingly easy on the eyes.”

  Suji shrugged, finding a sudden interest in a stack of clipboards on the counter. “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “I didn’t really look.”

  “Oh my God, you are such a fibber. Of course, you loo
ked,” Mimi teased, giving her a playful shove.

  Suji laughed. Mimi had no idea.

  “Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”

  “No one, I just hate opportunists.”

  “Okay, I get that, but you’re making a whole lot of snap judgments about a guy you only spoke to for thirty seconds.”

  Mimi had a point. They’d spent a whole hell of a lot more than thirty seconds together, but Suji wasn’t about to admit it. “Whatever, he’ll have every opportunity to prove me wrong, but I’m not expecting much.”

  “Harsh.”

  “I know. Hey, could you double check Maurice Hudson’s discharge papers? His parents should be here soon to pick him up.”

  “Sure thing.” Mimi grabbed a notepad and a pen and began scribbling.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hi Suji!”

  She turned to find Tiffany walking toward her. “Well, hello there, young lady. I heard you had quite an eventful morning.”

  “I did! Subzero was here, and I took him to meet Aaron because he’s, like, a huge fan.” The little girl practically bounced in her slippered feet. Her eyes seemed a little brighter today, and there was honest-to-goodness color in her cheeks.

  Suji smiled, all thoughts of chastisement chased away by Tiffany’s obvious excitement.

  “Oh yeah? Are you a fan too?”

  Tiffany nodded, toying with the drawstring on her robe. “Yeah, of course. He’s the best defenseman in the league. At least I think so.”

  “What league is that?”

  Tiffany glared at Suji as if she’d asked her the color of the sun. “Uh, the hockey league.”

  “He’s a hockey player?”

  “Duh,” Tiffany groaned. “Cup-winning Cajun Rage? Desjardins Trophy winner for Best Defenseman?”

  Suji could only stare blankly. She glanced at Mimi who grinned wide but kept her eyes trained on the monitor. The least she could do was step in with some Google facts or something.

  “Sounds…impressive.”

  Tiffany’s eye roll was epic. “I swear, nurse Suji, you people have a lot to learn about sports. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

  “Great, you can do that later.” Suji reached down to fix the collar of Tiffany’s robe, which had slipped, exposing the bandage that covered a new lesion. “How were we with breakfast this morning?”

  Tiffany scrunched up her nose. “Okay.”

  Suji narrowed her eyes. “Define okay.”

  “I ate the applesauce.”

  “That’s good, honey, but we need some protein too, remember? We had a talk about that.”

  “I know,” Tiffany whined. “But everything tastes like butt.”

  Mimi barked out a laugh.

  Suji stifled one too. “Tiff, I know things don’t taste very good for you right now. It’s the side-effect…”

  “Of my medicine, I know, but I can’t, like, force it down my throat.”

  “Okay, how about you eat one boiled egg for me, and I’ll get you one of those chocolate shakes.”

  In actuality, they were meal replacement smoothies, but Tiffany didn’t need to know that.

  The little girl’s face lit up like the fourth of July. “Really?”

  “Sure, sweetie.”

  “Could I have salt on the egg? It helps with the taste.”

  “I’ll get you a little salt. Now head on back to your room, and I’ll bring you a tray. Okay?”

  Tiffany offered her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Behind her, Mimi chuckled. “That child is something else.”

  “That she is.”

  “And your hockey boyfriend is too, take a look.”

  Suji rounded the desk to stand behind Mimi, who had indeed been busy on Google. She’s pulled up several photos of Subzero, a/k/a Constantine Zimin, and…wow. The images didn’t do him justice, though. Having been up close and personal with the man, Suji knew the real thing was so much prettier. And tastier. And solid like granite.

  And she needed to pull the emergency brake on that train of thought.

  “I wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with him. Damn,” Mimi drawled.

  “Rounds?”

  “Uh, quarters? I know nothing about hockey.”

  “That makes two of us,” Suji admitted. “What’s this trophy he’s supposedly bringing?”

  “Says here he plays for the New Orleans Cajun Rage and that they won the hockey championship this year. I guess that’s the trophy he’s bringing here tomorrow.”

  Mimi pointed to a photo of a player hoisting a large, silver chalice over his head in celebration.

  “Oh and he’s from here, apparently,” Mimi supplied as she scrolled through an ESPN article. “It’s weird, though.”

  “What is?” Suji busied herself with paperwork, not at all interesting in knowing more about Constantine Zimin.

  “There’s not a whole lot information about this guy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when I search for him, the only stuff that comes up is hockey stats and a bit about him as a player.” Mimi continued to scroll, and Suji continued to not peer over her shoulder. “Nothing personal. No photos of him out and about. No women, no family, nothing. It’s like he doesn’t exist outside of his sport.”

  “He probably has a publicist to keep his nose clean.”

  “Or,” Mimi countered. “He’s just very private.”

  “Maybe,” Suji conceded. “Whatever the case, he’d better behave himself tomorrow, or I’ll kick his ass out of here and toss that trophy right out into the street.”

  Mimi saluted, mimicking Tiffany. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Suji laughed. “Don’t you start.”

  “You have to admit,” Mimi said, flipping through image after image of Constantine Zimin. “He’s damn sexy.”

  “I don’t have to admit that at all.”.

  She didn’t. Not out loud, anyway.

  6

  Zim pulled into Philadelphia International Airport with twenty minutes to spare. He found a space in short-term parking and decided to give Jonas a call.

  “Hey knucklehead.”

  “Zim! What’s up, asshole? I just got off the phone with Thibs,” Jonas spoke in his soft, Swedish accent that the puck bunnies seemed to love.

  “Yeah? How is the old man?”

  “Strong enough to kick your ass if he ever heard you call him old,” Jonas replied, laughing.

  Until very recently, Jonas “Iceman” Magnussen was a center for the New Orleans Cajun Rage. In the rink, he and Zim had made quite the pair. The press had nicknamed them Fire and Ice because Zim’s temper had often gotten the better of him before he learned to channel his frustrations into his skating and puck handling. Meanwhile, Jonas had always been known as the calm one, until he became more aggressive on the ice, racking up more penalty minutes than a center should.

  “Good to hear it. How are things with you? Glad to be back home?”

  “It’s strange to be back, but really good too,” Jonas replied. From the tone of his voice, Zim could tell how pleased he really was and he knew why.

  “And how is Mariam?”

  “She’s great. We’re…we’re doing great.”

  “That’s awesome, man.”

  When Jonas started out in the league, he’d made the choice to leave both Sweden and his girlfriend behind. Though, to hear Jonas talk about it, Mariam had pretty much made the choice for him. Still, it was good to hear the guy sound so happy and settled.

  Magnussen was a magician with a stick in his hands, and Zim was the guy who always had his back. Until the one time he didn’t.

  In game six of The Cup finals, Zim had given the Spartans a chance at a power play by taking a stupid penalty against Alec Crenshaw. Zim could only sit in the Sin Bin and watch in horror as Crenshaw plowed into Jonas and sent him sprawling awkwardly into the boards.

  Time had stopped while the medical team tended to him on the ice, treating him so gingerly Zim wasn’t sure if he
was even still alive. The replay on the Jumbotron confirmed just how horrific the crash had been, displaying Jonas’s leg bent at an unnatural angle. There had been a collective gasp from the crowd. Zim’s heart had been in his throat for the entire seven minutes and six seconds that Jonas lay there, still as death.

  He’d never forgive himself for leaving him vulnerable.

  Yes, there were other defensemen on their team. Good guys. Talented guys. But Jonas was Zim’s responsibility, and he’d let him down. Had let the team down. Only the fact that Zim had protected their lead in game seven, helping out their goalie with a kick save in the waning seconds, had eased his conscience a bit. Jonas didn’t blame him, of course. That’s just the kind of guy he was.

  “By the way, I’m back on the ice.”

  Zim smiled. “Really?”

  “Yeah, just coaching some local kids. I may even start up my own camp.

  Pride filled the man’s voice, and Zim was relived to hear it. He had a lingering fear that Jonas had left the game with reservations.

  “Seems like being a Cup winner carries quite a bit of prestige.”

  Zim chuckled. “You don’t say. No second-thoughts about staying over there?”

  “Zero.”

  Even though Jonas couldn’t see him, Zim nodded. “I’m happy for you, dude.”

  “Thanks. So, when are you going to settle down with someone?”

  “Honestly, it’s not even on my RADAR.” Zim ignored the image of Suji Meriwether that popped into his head.

  “When has it ever been?” Jonas countered. “The last semi-serious relationship I remember you having was when we were in Buffalo.”

  Lea. Zim shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

  “She wasn’t the right one, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Jonas said, sounding very much like a life coach. “You’ll never know unless you actually put yourself out there.”

  “Sorry, how hard did you hit your head? Are you running a matchmaking service?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “That’s more like it.” Zim laughed. “Look, I’m at the airport. Motz’s plane just landed.”

  Jonas groaned long and loud. “Good luck with that.”

  “Is he that bad?”

  “No, I suppose he’s only doing his job, but he’s so regimented about your schedule. Don’t let him get to you. It’s your day with The Cup.”