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“Glad to see things are going well there,” Asher remarked, shamelessly glancing down at my phone from where he stood beside me. “Is she the good luck charm you referred to in the post-game interview?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. Maybe Evie didn’t want to be in the spotlight, but if she ever watched the interviews, she’d know I was thinking about her.
He laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day when you fell, Zolotov. It’s been fun to watch.”
I blinked, his words cutting through the exhaustion that the nap during the flight hadn’t cured. “I never said a thing about falling.”
“You don’t have to.” He shrugged like he wasn’t wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit. Then again, most of us were. Suits and ties were the uniform while traveling, and the only exception was the plane. “I’ve seen enough of these guys take the plunge to know the signs.”
“And what signs are those?”
“You’re smiling a lot more. You’re playing like your A game is your only game.” A corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk. “Which was not the case in January.”
“Touché ,” I muttered.
“I haven’t seen you look at any of the women blatantly offering to let you work off that steam, and it’s not just that you weren’t indulging like the first half of the season. You don’t even look anymore.” He motioned to my hands, where I held my phone. “And you keep looking at that phone like the answer to life’s greatest questions are about to pop out of it, just like them.” He pointed to the left, where Sterling, Brogan, and Briggs all had their phones out, glancing down just like me.
“Your observation skills are fucking scary,” I muttered.
“Knowing how each of you is doing is my job,” he answered.
My name was called and I stepped forward, taking my key. Last as always. Gotta love alphabetical order. “You staying here tonight?” I asked when Asher remained, his hands empty.
“Nope. Just wanted to make sure you guys got in alright. I have a poker game to get to, and my flight leaves in thirty minutes.” He checked his watch and turned to leave.
“Silas,” I called out and waited for him to turn before continuing. “What do you guys bet with at those games? Poker chips? Money? It’s not like you all don’t have a shit ton of money already.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Chips? Money? Hell no. We play for things that actually matter.” With that cryptic little remark, he left, and I headed up to my room.
The phone was at my ear, ringing through to Evie as I unlocked my door.
“Oh my God, Maxim, are you okay?” she answered, panic lacing her tone.
“What?” I tossed my carry-on onto the chair near the window and yanked at my tie. “I’m fine, I was calling to see how your day was since I haven’t had a chance to call since before the game.”
“You got hit!”
I grinned. “Well, yeah. I always get hit.” Off came the suit, the shoes, all of it, until I was in nothing but my boxer briefs.
“But you really got hit,” she said softly. “You went down and you stayed there for like…ten minutes.” The worry in her tone did something to my chest, making it all tight and warm at the same time.
“In the first period?” I guessed, thinking back over the game. I’d taken a nasty one against the boards and had my bell rung, but it wasn’t anything serious.
“Yes!”
“Babe, that was nothing. I’m fine. I was down for a few seconds max.” I laid back on my bed and stared out over the Boston skyline.
“It felt like ten minutes,” she muttered. “It scared the crap out of me.”
“Evangeline.” Well shit, if I didn’t like the way her worry made me feel, all gooey and soft, like I was…cared for. “You know I get hit. You’ve seen me get hit. You know that unless I’m carried off the ice, I’m going to be okay, right?”
“Yeah. I just don’t like seeing it.”
“You don’t have to watch me play, babe.” I stretched out, fighting the pull of sleep. “That’s never been a requirement.”
“I’ve always liked watching you play,” she admitted as fabric shuffled in the background. “It just feels…different now.”
“How so?”
“Like I have something to lose out there, too,” she whispered.
Because I was hers.
Never thought I’d see the day when you fell. That’s what Silas had said. But had I? Was that what was happening to me? Sure, I loved being around Evie. I loved talking to her, watching movies with her—even shopping for groceries was fun with her, and I lived to fuck her. I couldn't get enough of her body, her skin, her kisses. But falling?
“Maxim?” she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Just remember that unless you see the guys carrying me, or a stretcher, I’m fine,” I said softly, the desire to put her at ease trumping my amusement that she was freaked out about a check.
