Page 14 of Want You

“He’s dropping too fast,” Nathan observed as their veteran goalie let in another shot from the face-off circle, rising to his feet slowly. “Something’s off.”

“Maybe he didn’t sleep well.” Trevor Smith shrugged before the whistle blew for his turn at the breakaway.

Sure enough, Dmitri Pavlovic was down on his knees before Smith had even shot the puck, which allowed him to recalculate and go high. Six top shelf goals in a row and a worried looking goalie coach, something was definitely off.

“Okay, so you were probably right,” Trevor admitted, coming to a stop beside Nathan and watching as their next two teammates pulled the exact same moves, beating Pavlovic glove side. “Connors is going to be in the next game if he keeps this up.” Trevor looked over his shoulder to the end where the backup goalie Connors was in net. “Cocky asshole,” he grumbled into his glove. “Hey, how did you answer the question from earlier?”

Nathan told him Octavia’s theory and watched the guy try to follow along. “What did you say?”

“That whatever they are, they’re delicious.” He grinned as their coach blew the whistle, signalling the end of practice.

As Nathan headed off he watched as Pavlovic sat in his crease, staring at his skates and shaking his head slowly. Dmitri had been their number one for the last two seasons, but this season he’d been different. He seemed fine physically, but he had the Yips or something. Whatever it was, he better figure it out fast or he was going to lose his starting position to the young guy who was indeed a cocky asshole.

“Pav’s wife asked for a divorce last night,” Sami Pettersson leaned in and whispered. “She found out about the girlfriend.”

Nathan’s eyes slid across the room to where Pavlovic sat in front of his locker, still in his goalie pads and skates. He’d heard rumours about a girlfriend. Some of the guys were open about their infidelities, treating each dalliance like a point of pride. He’d never understood why money and fame made some guys act that way. It probably didn’t help that hockey players, specifically in Canada, grew up in an environment that didn’t punish bad behaviour as long as you showed up on the ice.

“Poor guy,” he said, letting the words drip with sarcasm.

He thought of Scottie, still in the hospital, out of the coma but struggling with communication.

After Octavia left, his sister had called to let him know that Scottie was out of the coma and he’d gone straight back to the hospital to sit with him. Normally he’d tell him about the woman he met. How she was brilliant and probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But he wasn’t going to go on about meeting someone when that’s what Scottie should be telling him. So instead, he told him about the game and relayed all the stats he could remember. His brother loved stats and numbers, it was what he’d built his business on, what the professional teams all paid the big bucks for.

“The doctor suggested we get him into a rehab facility that specializes in stroke survivors,” Emma informed him when they went down to the cafeteria two days later. “The damage shouldn’t be permanent, apparently his scans look good considering everything, but he needs to rehab his brain and his left arm.”

Nathan swallowed back the rage he felt. Scottie had gotten the big brain but not the social skills that Nathan and Emma had. Meeting people had always been harder for his brother, and knowing he’d met someone online and had taken steps to meet her in person only to have the chance snuffed out made his blood boil.

Meanwhile, he’d shown up at a random hotel bar and the perfect woman had literally fallen into him. They’d laugh about this one day, he had to keep telling himself that. Scottie would remember his password and explain to the mystery woman what had happened and she’d agree to start again. Nathan wasn’t even above bribing her to give him another chance.

“We’ll do whatever they think is best. If I need to take a leave from the team, I’ll do that too,” Nathan said, pushing away the shitty bowl of chicken noodle soup he’d purchased.

“I know you will,” Emma said, resting her hand on top of his. “But you know he’d hate that. You need to play and give him months’ worth of ridiculous analytics to dig through when he’s ready. Your stats are always his favourite.”

Nathan scoffed. They were Scottie’s favourite because it was the one area he could confidently tell Nathan where he sucked and back it up with facts.

Scottie was asleep when they got back to the room, so he decided to take off, bringing up Octavia’s number as he waited for the Uber to arrive.

Can I interest you in dinner?

He tried and failed to push down the bubble of excitement that began when he saw the three bouncing dots.

Is that code for sex?

No, although that’s on the table too, if you want it to be.

His blood raced south as he thought about fucking her again. He’d come three mornings in a row while he showered, unable to unsee her bent over taking him with her knuckles white from pressing on the wall so hard, her moans echoing against the glass.

You know this is just sex right?

His heart sank, reading the words.

Still waiting on Blaze?

I just… I’m confused right now. All I can offer is something physical.

If physical was all he was going to get, then that’s what he’d give her. He’d get over it when she didn’t need that anymore either.

Dinner then I’ll fuck you over the back of my couch.