Offside

by Bianca Sommerland

  “And?” The assistant sounded excited. “Do you think—?”

  “What I think is we’ve got to get this team to pull together, whether or not he comes back.” Tim cleared his throat. “Mr. Demyan, I expect you to keep this to yourself.”

  Stepping into the office, Scott nodded, a rueful smile on his lips. “I won’t say a word. Be good to have him though.”

  “It would.” Tim gathered his things, glancing at Scott as he made his way out. “Zach’s already gone. The doctor was on the first flight out, and the travel coordinator was able to get Zach on the same flight. It’s nothing serious—left thigh contusion. We have a few days before the first regular season game, so we wanted to make sure it was taken care of right away. He’ll have an MRI tonight. Start therapy in a day or so if possible.”

  Scott frowned. “Yeah, all right. But can’t I head back tonight too?”

  “Honestly? I’d rather you didn’t. It won’t look good and—” Tom groaned, shaking his head. “I hate saying shit like that, I hope you know. If he was in bad shape, I’d tell you to fuck appearances. But it’s not worth it.”

  Shit. Scott swallowed, but didn’t bother arguing. Zach would be telling him the same thing if he were here.

  Hours later, Zach called and confirmed that it really wasn’t a big deal. So minor the doctor was already telling him he might be back in the lineup for their first regular season game. Zach made Scott promise to follow Stephan’s instructions, hit the gym, maybe go see Becky?

  Scott was ready to promise Zach just about anything. So long as he’d be able to see him. And hell, since it wasn’t so bad, maybe they could see Becky together. Scott smiled a little, thinking about how she’d fuss over Zach. This injury could be enough to break the ice.

  “I want to see her—and you. I’ll call you both tomorrow, but it’s just . . . fuck.” Zach’s soft curse dimmed the bit of optimism Scott had managed to work up. “With therapy and everything my agent has planned for me . . . I don’t know how much I’ll be around, Scott. You know it’s not because I don’t want to see you, right? Because I do.”

  “I know you do, pal.” Scott sat on his packed suitcase, holding in a sigh. He did know. And he wouldn’t let Zach feel bad because life fucking sucked sometimes. “We’ve only got two games that week. We’ll have plenty of time after.”

  “We will. But call me every night anyway—doesn’t matter what time.” Zach let out a bitter laugh. “Damn it, it sounds like we’re gonna be in two different countries.”

  “Could happen. Hell, Zach, I’m not new at this. I know how it is. We’ll be fine.” Scott knew that wasn’t what Zach wanted to hear. He forced a smile Zach would hear in his tone. “I’ll be fine.”

  That night, the bed seemed big, cold, and empty. Scott got up to turn off the AC, then lay on top of the sheets in only his boxers, skin sticky with sweat. He got up and turned the AC back on. Flicked on the TV. Couldn’t find anything to watch. Turned it off.

  His phone buzzed. He smirked, sure Zach couldn’t sleep either. He answered without checking the number.

  “Hey, babe, miss me already?”

  “Babe?” Jimmy snorted. “Some chick you’re serious about, or were you expecting a booty call?”

  Scott sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. Ice slithered over his damp skin. His stomach turned into a clenched stone fist. “What do you want, Jimmy?”

  “Some way to talk to your brother. What do you think I want?” Jimmy snapped out each word, his bitterness seeping through his tone. “You don’t have to be a dick about it. Not all of us are so lucky and—”

  “Fuck you, okay? I’ll send you some fucking money!” Scott stood, jabbing his thumb down to end the call. His guts flipped, twisted, and his head spun. He tossed his phone, hearing it shatter as he cut across the room and opened the minibar. He grabbed a few small bottles. Chose one.

  Rum. He dropped it, laughing as his eyes teared. How pathetic. How fucked up. Ever since Becky and Zach had come into his life, it was like he couldn’t deal with anything properly. Couldn’t shut things off when he needed to. Since when did he freak out like this when Jimmy called? He had the money. Jimmy didn’t. Pretty fucking simple.

  Only it wasn’t simple. His brother hated him.

  And he had every reason to.

  * * * *

  So many girls in the Ice Girl uniform, standing in the hall, waiting to go out on to the ice. Many wouldn’t return. The fans would vote and some of the young women would go home with nothing but fond memories.

  Akira couldn’t be one of those. She’d worked too hard. They all had, but the other girls didn’t have their whole futures riding on this. Most were hopeful, but realistic. They chatted about school. Boyfriends. About what they would do if they didn’t make it because that would be okay. The theme was “I’m not gonna cry.”

  Can’t say the same. Can’t . . . She was going to be sick. Ten minutes to stand in the hall, waiting to put on a three-minute show that would make or break her. Her bottom lip quivered. She slipped by the other girls, feeling for the door, sure her makeup would be ruined by her tears.

  The forum was sold out, which didn’t happen often. The event coordinator had stressed that their performances had drawn people from across the Maritimes, from Quebec, even from New York—and the Rangers fans weren’t coming all this way just to watch their team. Other teams had Ice Girls, but they played a small part. The Cobras Ice Girls were becoming celebrities in their own right. They could be a big part of their team’s success. All the media attention would help the team nail down a few more years.

  Yet another thing for Akira to worry about. She sprinted for the bathroom, not sure if she should head to the toilet to puke or to the sink to make sure she was presentable. Her stomach settled a little as she looked at herself in the mirror. Not too bad. Just a few smudges. She knew her routine. She’d worked hard with her team to perfect it. They would put on an amazing show.

  What if they don’t? What if I don’t? She pressed her eyes shut. And saw Dominik. Telling her she could do this. As he had again and again. She hadn’t seen him for almost a week, but the impact of his words hadn’t faded.

  “Believe in yourself. At least half as much as I do.” He’d kissed her, his big, dark hand so comforting and warm as it cupped her cheek. “And yes, that’s an order.”

  “Akira?”

  Akira spun around and threw herself into her best friend’s arms, knowing Jami would understand. Needing a moment to be weak, needing to know she could and that it wouldn’t last.

  Jami framed Akira’s face in her hands, drying her tears. “Hey. You didn’t think I wouldn’t show, did you? Just got off an early shift. I hate using Silver and my dad to get time off, but I wasn’t going to miss this. Someone else can cook the fucking hot dogs.”

  “Jami . . .” Akira swallowed back a sob. It didn’t need to come out. She felt the strength return to her muscles, solidify in her bones. “I’m so happy you came. I just wish you could be out there with me.”

  Grinning, Jami took her purse off her shoulder, quickly taking out some lip stain and blush. “Hey, I’ll try out again next season. How about we make sure you’re one of the people who gets a say in whether I make it or not?”

  “That works for me.” Akira held still as Jami fixed her makeup. She mentally went over her routine. The tension eased from her brow as Jami swept a soft brush over her cheeks. “I can do this.”

  “That’s right. But I thought you might need your own cheering squad.” Jami grinned as the door opened. “He wasn’t too busy.”

  Dominik. Larger than life in his uniform and even taller with his skates on, guards covering the blades. The harsh bathroom light cast a glow on his dark, black-scruffed cheeks. His lips curved into a warm smile.

  Akira sobbed and ran to him, forgetting about her makeup and everything else. His arms around her, his solid chest, felt so wonderful. She knew, right then and there, that he would always be there to catch her. It didn�
��t matter that they didn’t have some big, long-lasting romance. Besides her father, he was the only man she’d ever been able to count on. He made the earth seem stable under her feet.

  “I’m here, little one.” He held her close for a moment, then stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “They’re waiting for you. They need you to lead them.”

  Akira blew out air to cool her face as Jami came to her side, clucking her tongue and repairing the damage done by her renewed tears. Staring up into Dominik’s dark eyes, Akira felt her heart take on a steady rhythm. She smiled up at him. “Like the Cobras need you.”

  “Exactly. All the men will be on the bench, watching the show. And I think you know who the favorite for the Ice Girls’ captain is.” He tapped her nose and winked. “No question about you making it. The crowd decides how far. Don’t leave them with any doubts.”

  “I won’t.” She stiffened her spine, walking ahead of Jami and Dominik into the hall, ready to lead her girls and get as many of them as possible on to the team. Every single one deserved it.

  That was all that mattered until she saw who was waiting for her. Ten minutes was a long time to wait. The coaches would give any girl who needed it a few minutes. Amy had obviously taken advantage of that. And had found someone to give her a little moral support.

  Ford set Amy away from him when he spotted Akira. He shook his head and opened his mouth.

  She didn’t want to hear it. She gave him a cold smile, ignoring Amy. “It’s sweet of you to come down to support us, sir. The girls love how involved the owners are.”

  “Akira.” Ford stepped toward her.

  Dominik cut him off. “Akira, he’s management as a courtesy. Not an owner. Don’t give him too much credit.”

  “I’m not.” Akira turned to Dominik, blocking out the other man as much as she could. Even though she was all too aware of Ford. So close. For some reason not going away like he should. She smoothed her hand over Dominik’s jersey, tracing the big C with her fingertip. “I’m going to work on getting me one of these.”

  “You’d better.” Dominik kissed her forehead, then stood by the door, preventing Ford from following when it looked like he might. He called out before she let the door close, “After the game, I will see you.”

  She placed her hand on the door, trying to keep her eyes on Dominik. Trying not to see Ford. She refused to give him any more of her time. “After the game, Sir, I’m all yours.”

  The pain in Ford’s eyes didn’t bother her. Not in the least. She kept the image of him with Amy in the back of her mind in case the little voice within decided to be stupid. To forget. Of all the things he could have done to make this easy, being anywhere near Amy was at the top of the list.

  Amy caught up with her before she could join the rest of the Ice Girls. “You put on a decent act, but I’m not blind. You want him.”

  Akira stopped. Faced Amy, her tone level and cold. “You must be pretty desperate to try to use him against me. But I’m not surprised. There’s no way someone like you could care more about a friend than about a hot guy with a big dick.”

  “I’ve heard he has a huge dick. From the girls who had fun with him on the cruise.” Amy covered her mouth, giggling. “Not that you were missing out. Props to you, you sleazy little chink. Fucking the Cobras’ captain does give you a bit of a head start. But I don’t think the fans care who you’re sleeping with.”

  “For once, you’re right, Amy.” Akira joined her girls, smiling sweetly at the bitch who trailed her, the racial slur doing nothing more than stiffening her spine with resolve. “The fans will be looking at what we do out there. So good luck.”

  “I don’t need it. But hey, if it’s any condolence, my dad owns a few Chinese restaurants. I’m sure I could get you in as a waitress. I hear the tips are good.”

  “Amy, will you shut up?” Sahara stepped away from her group, shaking as though it took everything she had not to slap the other woman. “I wish the fans could hear this. No way would they vote for an ignorant little cunt like you. When you say shit like that, I just want to—”

  Grabbing Sahara’s arm, Akira drew the tall blond aside, Amy’s laughter nothing but white noise, like the excited clamor of the crowd beyond the steel doors. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t react. That’s what she wants.”

  “I know, but—” Sahara pursed her bright red lips. “You’re right. I’m the veteran. I should be saying this to you.”

  “Hey, you’ve had my back through everything.” Akira hugged Sahara, so happy they weren’t really competing against one another, even though it would look like they were. “I’ve got yours. Always.” Her cheeks heated. She lowered her voice. “I probably won’t be home tonight. Neither will Jami. If you are, can you take care of Peanut?”

  “Jami already asked.” Sahara laughed. “Will do. That bird is everything a single lady could ever want.” As Keane’s voice boomed from the speakers, announcing the competition and thanking all the fans for attending, her lips thinned. She laughed again, the sound overly bright. “I’m thinking some ice cream and The Notebook. In case you decide to come home early.” She batted her eyelashes. “And if you do, I will so bug you about it all night!”

  “Won’t happen.” Akira wrinkled her nose at Sahara’s knowing smirk, then went back to her girls, squeezing a few hands and whispering words of encouragement to the ones who looked like they needed it. Amy’s group went first.

  Each group consisted of seven girls. Only the top ten voted for by the fans—either online or by text, would make up the core team. A second vote would pick the captain. Silver Delgado’s original plan had been to start with a small squad, but Mr. Keane had taken over, scouting for experienced girls like Sahara to add. Sahara, and whomever was chosen as captain of the team, would get the final say on any new recruits.

  Amy was good. Very good. As much as Akira hated to admit it, she still had a chance of getting that coveted C.

  The doors leading out to the rink were left open, giving all the Ice Girl finalists a clear view of what they were up against. The Jumbotron over the rink provided a close-up of Amy’s gleaming, toothy smile before the lights went out. A golden spotlight came on. Forming an arrowhead on the dance mat spread over the ice, with Amy at the center, the seven girls began a slow, provocative sway to Britney Spears’ “Criminal.”

  Not a bad show, the audience seemed to like it, but Akira felt bad for the girls on Amy’s team. Their moves were uniform, and they were nothing but backup dancers to their leader’s elaborate, erotic performance. Maybe it was just bitterness on her part, but Akira was a little surprised Amy hadn’t asked for a pole to go along with her routine.

  Doesn’t matter. It’s time to get out there and show them what you’ve got. Akira glanced back at her girls, gave them a bracing smile, then took off running onto the ice as Amy’s group cleared the way. The grips of her shoes were specially made to prevent slipping, but she was still a little nervous about falling on her butt as her legs shook.

  Her girls formed a circle. The spotlight pulsed, giving the rink a club feel. “S.O.S.” by Jordin Sparks kicked up, and she threw herself into the music, thrusting her hips, tossing her hair around, lifting her arms up high. All the girls spun to face the crowd, jumping up and down as the chorus began.

  The words to the song gave them so much to work with as a group, but one part of the song did more. Akira had worked with the choreographer to give every single girl a chance to move to the center of the circle and show off her unique skills. The movement never stopped, but the girl in the center drew the spotlight. The attention of the crowd. One girl grinded low. Another did a break-dance move. A ballet specialist did a pirouette that ended in the splits.

  At the climax of the song, the girls widened their circle. The finishing move had been decided on by a unanimous vote. Akira backed up a few steps, praying she didn’t let them down. Without much space, she couldn’t run far. But she had enough space for her layout.

  Two long strides and she
flew into handspring, then a backspring, giving herself enough height for a nice twist and a smooth landing. Her pulse echoed in her ears along with the roar of the crowd. Her team took their poses around her. Adrenaline had her trembling like a wet puppy sitting out in the cold. But in seconds she was surrounded, the girls hugging her and chattering enthusiastically as they herded her off the ice.

  A coach gave her a thumbs up, handing her a big grey Cobra sweater as she returned to the hall. Her girls huddled around her, quiet now as Sahara’s team lined up on the dance mat. No music. No lights. Sahara started clapping and stomping a familiar beat. The other girls followed her, and soon the crowd had joined in.

  You bitch! Akira thought without menace, laughing as the girls in the hall started clamping and stomping as well. “We Will Rock You” by Queen. Sahara screamed the opening line, most of the crowd singing with her. The music blasted and Sahara’s girls threw themselves into the dance, perfectly coordinated, stopping at the chorus to clap and stomp, then gesturing for the crowd to sing louder.

  Not a fancy routine, but everyone in the stands stood at the end, revved up, involved, and ready for the game. Which was the point.

  Sahara and her team took a bow, then bounced around, waving for the crowd to keep cheering as Amy and Akira’s teams returned to the dance mat. The announcer reminded everyone to “Vote! And vote often!”

  As Akira headed for the Ice Girls’ changing room, she heard the anthem starting up on the rink. If she hurried, she might be able to see the puck drop from the owner’s box. Mr. Richter had invited her, Sahara, and Jami, and she was looking forward to watching Dominik play. Sahara waited for her as she pulled on a pair of jeans. They ran all the way to the elevator together, smothering giggles with their hands before opening the door to the owner’s box.

  The blood left Akira’s face as one of the men near the large window overlooking the rink glanced back. Ford frowned as she took a step backward, then turned to face the glass. Akira hugged herself and bit her bottom lip as Sahara guided her to the other side of the room.