Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  “Okay. I’ll do my best to tell you.”

  “That final game in the championship series was one for the ages,” Rod commented. “It’s a shame that turned out to be your last one.”

  Matt swallowed the pain and resentment that fact always stirred up in him. Except today it didn’t seem to be quite so intense. In fact, surprisingly, he barely noticed the emotions.

  “Yes, but I’m moving on with my life. Winning the Cup was a goal all my life. Now I have time for other things.”

  Rod’s mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. “Like the lady you’re reaching out to, I’m guessing.”

  “Yes. A situation I neglected far too long. Now I’m hoping it’s not too late to show her just how much she means to me.”

  “We’ll do our best to help you,” Rod assured him.

  As they chatted, Matt began to relax. Talking about the Cajun Rage, his teammates, and the battle for the Cup was easy and he’d already done it a number of times. But when he got to the subject of his obsession with hockey, he walked softly. This was crossing over into how he’d screwed up his personal life, and he needed to choose his words carefully.

  Brenna was a godsend. Where he faltered about the early years, she was able to tell stories about junior hockey and his workouts in the backyard. Where he was reticent, she talked about how proud his family was of him and all he’d accomplished.

  Rod Terrier was very good at putting people at ease, though, and little by little Matt found himself relaxing. At least as much as he could, considering the circumstances. Terrier got him to talk about the other teams he’d been with and how frustrated he’d become at not being able to break through on a winner. The man was skillful at drawing out stories of Matt’s experiences in his chase for the Cup.

  And then, finally, Rod steered the conversation back to his big deal for today. It was painful telling a stranger how he’d been so self-involved he saw nothing in expecting a woman to wait around for him for however long it took to reach his goal.

  “I guess you’d have to say I was selfish and totally clueless,” he told the reporter.

  “But now you realize what you walked away from,” Terrier said.

  “More than that. It kills me to think of what I missed since I walked away from her. We could have been together all this time. Lizzie would never have stood in the way of my goal. In fact, she would have supported me along the way.”

  “But like a lot of men, including myself, as a matter of fact, you thought she’d just be waiting for you when you got to where you were going.”

  “I don’t know what I thought.” Matt rubbed his hand over his face. “But now I have a problem.”

  “She’s with someone else?”

  “No, thank god.” He shook his head. “But she’s not with me, either. I have to convince her I really love her. That walking away was a big mistake.”

  Rod gave him a searching look. “Do you think this was prompted by the injury in that final game that ended your career?”

  “No.” Matt shook his head. “And I don’t want her to get that idea, either. She’s not second best. Not something I’ve settled for. All the injury did was put me in a position to examine my life.” He shook his head. “I sure didn’t like what I saw.”

  “So what’s your big plan, then?”

  Matt laid it all out for him, starting with the roses that morning.

  “As you know, each player gets twenty-four hours with the Cup. I want to use mine to show her she means more to me than the Cup does, but that winning it is meaningless unless she shares it with me.”

  Rod’s mouth curved in a wry smile. “That’s a tall order, my man.”

  “Don’t I know it. But I’m hoping when she hears me on television she’ll know I’m serious.”

  “And not tell you to take a hike, right?”

  Matt nodded. “Got it in one. I’m not usually one for grand gestures, but I sure need one here. Plus, I only have the Cup until tomorrow, and I want to show her she’s more important to me. And to share it with her.”

  “Well, I wish you luck, man.” Rod pushed himself out of the chair. “Someone will be in shortly to primp you a little for the camera. Sports is on at fifteen after the hour. I’ll do a recap of what’s what in the sports world and then bring you on. That work for you?”

  “However you want to do it.”

  “I think we’ll do the usual Q and A, the basic interview with video in the background, and then the floor is yours.”

  “Thank you so much. “ Matt shook the man’s hand harder than he intended. “Really.”

  “You’d better let me know how it turns out.”

  “Oh, I will. Definitely.”

  He winked at Brenna. “Maybe if all is good, we can do a spot with the happy couple. Okay, my man. See you shortly.”

  After the sportscaster left, Matt sank back down on the couch.

  “I hope I don’t sweat up a storm,” he told Brenna. “I’m so fucking nervous.”

  “Just relax,” she told him. “Be yourself. Be honest with your feelings. It will come across.”

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t get mad at me for this and tell me to take a hike.”

  “Mattie, you’re already hiking,” Brenna joked. “This is to make sure you can walk it back.”

  “Okay, okay, okay.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’ll be in the studio, right? I was told you would have a place outside camera range to watch.”

  “I’m sure they’ll take good care of me,” she assured him. “Let’s get you calmed down.”

  10

  Liz settled herself on the barstool, carefully arranging her skirt. The dress Dara had insisted she buy was swirls of rose and cream, with a full skirt, tight bodice, and spaghetti straps. It was so different from the severely tailored clothes she’d built her wardrobe around for the past few years. But once she tried it on, she was sold. It was sexy and outrageous and demure all at the same time.

  Malone’s was just beginning to fill up as people in the area left work. Many of them hit the bar for a quick one, giving the crowded interstate time for the traffic to thin out. It was a welcoming place, with its dark paneling, old-fashioned bar with the high stools, and the etched mirror behind the bar. Dara insisted they sit in the middle of the bar so they had a good view of the television.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Liz griped for the fifth time. “It’s a waste of time. I haven’t even heard from Matt since this morning. He’s probably off with his buddies by now.”

  “Really.” Dara was busy typing something on her cell phone. “What about that little teaser he dropped on the noon sports report?”

  “You have no guarantee he was even referring to me. And who are you texting?”

  “Just sending something to a client that I forgot about.”

  “A client? I thought we were supposed to forget all about work and have a good time tonight.”

  “And we will.” She stuck her phone back in her purse. “There. All finished.”

  “Good. Because that’s just what I need to do, now that you got me all pampered and prissed up.” Liz placed her new little clutch purse on the bar and sat up straight. “And that little teaser, as you call it? They just said something special in his personal life. That could mean his parents, his sister…” She threw up her hands.

  Dara closed her fingers around Liz’s wrist. “You really think he’d go to all this trouble for anyone but you?”

  Liz nibbled her lower lip. “It’s just, well, I have a hard time believing he’s had such a dramatic change of heart, if you’ll pardon the pun. The Cup was everything to him. I ran a poor second.”

  “Listen to me, Elizabeth Erin St. John. I saw him this morning. I heard that poem that was so bad it was good. I saw how he’d gotten Chad Hallowell to deliver and read it to you. Does that sound like you’re coming in second, poor or otherwise?” She shook her head. “Listen. Order a drink. Watch the sports report. If whatever he
’s doing doesn’t prove that you can take a chance on him again, then at least you’ll have the whole picture to make a decision. Okay?”

  Liz let out a long sigh. “Okay. But I still have reservations. Sometimes, if something looks too good to be true, it really is.”

  “The drink,” Dara repeated and signaled to the bartender. “Two margaritas,” she told him.

  “Hey, wait. I was going to just get a glass of wine to sip on.”

  “You need something to loosen you up, girl.” Dara winked at her. “Come on. Live a little. You’ve been Miss Button Down since forever.”

  She knew her friend was right. She’d been so hurt by Matt’s actions, by his seeming dismissal of her without a thought for her feelings, that she’d vowed never to put herself out there like that again. But she did have to admit dating men she chose because they were the complete opposite of Matt Vorchak had turned out to be boring and uninteresting. Even if this turned out to be another Matt disaster, maybe it was time for her to step outside herself for a change. She sure wasn’t getting any younger. And after all, how long could you pine for someone who put you second best?

  “Okay. You’re right. Margaritas it is.”

  The bartender had just delivered the frosty drinks when Dara nudged her and pointed to the television.

  “They just teased sports. It will be on right after this commercial.”

  “But he might not be the first thing,” Liz reminded her.

  “The sports report isn’t that long. And after that teaser at noon, everyone will be waiting for the interview. You’ll see.” She waved at the bartender. “Could you turn that up, please?”

  He picked up the remote from the bar and increased the volume. The louder sound drew the attention of others, and not just those sitting at the bar. Liz saw people seated at the small tables in the narrow center aisle look up and those in booths adjust themselves to watch the screen.

  “How do they know to watch?” Liz asked. “They were all pretty content with their drinks and conversation.

  “The bartender doesn’t turn up the sound unless something important is about to happen.”

  Sure enough. Dara, as usual, was right on all counts. The moment the commercial ended, the cameras cut to the studio shot of Rod Terrier, sitting at the anchor desk. In front of him and to the side was the Cup, gleaming in the studio lights. Even Liz was impressed by the sight of it like that, the ultimate icon of success in professional hockey.

  And once the sportscaster and the Cup were live on screen, people turned in their seats or hitched their chairs around to see what was up.

  “Good afternoon, sports fan. Welcome to the five o’clock Rod Report. This magnificent piece of metalwork next to me, which I am privileged to put my hand on, is the famous Cup. It is the icon of professional hockey, the Holy Grail that all teams compete to win. It’s a symbol of a team’s ability to win the hard, grueling games down the stretch.

  “I know all you hockey fans watched the exciting series of the championship playoff games this year, and cheered with all of us when the winning goal in Game Two was scored by defenseman Matt Vorchak, our own hometown hero. The league has a tradition, that each member of the winning team gets to spend one day with the Cup. Today is Matt’s day, so you know wherever the Cup is, Matt’s not far away.” He gestured to the side. “Come on out here, Matt, and say hello to everyone.”

  And there he was, tall and muscular, in a navy sport jacket, gray slacks, collared shirt, and tie. Liz had to suck in her breath at the sight of him, pure male sex on the hoof.

  “Easy, girl,” Dara whispered. “And by the way, don’t bother ever again trying to tell me he doesn’t affect you. I’ll point out what a big fat liar you are.”

  “Sshhh,” Liz hushed her and took a big swallow of her margarita, staring at the screen.

  “Thanks for joining us today, Matt.”

  Matt smiled at Rod and sat in the chair next to hm. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “So let’s talk a little bit about Matt Vorchak and his quest for success in the world of professional hockey.”

  Liz had her eyes glued to the screen as Matt told the story of seeing the movie Miracle on Ice, how it affected him, how he became obsessed with the game, and why winning the Cup became so important. He even answered questions about the early years and his many struggles.

  As he talked and answered questions, Liz began to understand some of what had driven him and how important it was to him and why. She still wanted to know why he had to walk away from her to do it. She wanted to hear directly from him why that had happened and what was different now.

  When Dara nudged her with her elbow and pointed to the screen, she realized with a start her mind had wandered.

  “He’s going to do it now, Liz. Pay attention. I can’t wait to hear what his big deal is.”

  “So, Matt. I understand you have a little personal project going that you want to make an announcement about. And you want to share it here first, right?”

  Matt nodded. “And thanks to you for agreeing to it.” He turned so he faced the camera directly. “There’s a wonderful woman out there that I was stupid enough to walk away from eight years ago. I thought my career was more important than she was. She’s everything a man could ever ask for, and I was the idiot who thought she’d just hang around until I was ready. But tonight I want to share the honor of the Cup with her because, if I’m honest, she gave me the strength to try for it. To pursue my dream, even though I treated her badly. Tonight and forever, I want her to know there is nothing in my world more important to me than she is. Not now. Not ever. I love you, Liz, and I want the whole world to know it. Please give me another chance.”

  Rod Terrier smiled at the camera.

  “Well, there you have it, people. Our local hero has bared his heart for everyone to see. How about giving him some support out there. Just tweet @rodterrier and Good luck, Matt, or Liz, take him back. Maybe that will help.”

  “Uh, yeah, maybe.” Matt ran his finger around his collar as if it was suddenly too tight for him.

  “Thanks for joining us today, Matt. I know all of San Antonio is happy to have you back. And thanks for sharing the Cup with us.”

  Immediately, the picture was gone, replaced by a commercial, but Liz kept staring at the screen. Holy mother of god! What had he done? What on earth had he done?”

  “Well,” Dara said, a touch of amusement in her voice, “you can’t say he didn’t put it all out there. He must really love you, Liz, to do this.”

  Liz turned to her friend. For a moment, she couldn’t say a word. Her brain had frozen, and her mouth wouldn’t work. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out.

  “Really love me? This was a stunt, Dara. A stupid stunt. Now, if I refuse to see him again, the entire viewing audience will send me hate mail. And that twitter thing?” She dropped her face into her hands. “Oh, my god. Oh. My. God.”

  “What?” Dara frowned. “Honey, it took a lot of guts for him to do that. To admit he was wrong to the whole world. To tell everyone he loves you when he’s not sure if you still feel the same way.”

  “He put me in a bad situation, is what he did.” She pinched her eyebrows together. “I mean, I don’t even know how I feel. How can I tell if he means what he says? This could just be some dumb publicity stunt to help him start a new career since his last one is over.”

  “I don’t think he’s even worrying about that right now.” Dara took a sip of her drink. “Look. It’s not as if he needs the money. And I’m sure he’s had plenty of requests for different things for his future. No, Liz, this is all about you.”

  “He broke my heart,” she reminded Dara.

  “And now he wants to fix it.”

  “But how do I know he’ll never break it again?” She shook her head. “I don’t think I can trust this situation. Not to mention how he’s embarrassed me.”

  “A lot of women would think that was very romantic,” Dara pointed out to her.

&
nbsp; “Then they’re more trusting than I am.” Liz took a healthy sip of her drink, nearly choking on it.

  “Careful.” Dara patted her back. “You’re supposed to be getting pleasantly buzzed, not choking yourself to death.”

  Liz quickly took a drink from the glass of water the bartender had brought.

  “I don’t know what he’s got planned, Dara, but I’ll tell you again, I don’t trust him. When his life settles back to normal again, he’ll be sorry he did this and looking for a way to get back into the game—literally—and without me.”

  ”I think you’re wrong. What will it hurt to take a chance?”

  Liz shook her head. “I can’t afford to put myself out there again. I still don’t know if this is because he can’t play anymore so he’s settled for second best.” She stared into her drink. “What if no one else wants him so he’s sticking with me?”

  “Damn it.” Dara slammed her hand down on the bar. “You know that’s not true. Give the man a chance. See if the magic is still there. He even gave you credit for winning the Cup.”

  “Words.” She flipped a hand at Dara. “I can’t chance it. I’m sorry. And if this afternoon was all about getting me primped up and ready for him, I’m sorry you wasted your time and my money.” She reached into her purse for a twenty dollar bill and slammed it onto the bar. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “No.” Dara’s voice sound almost frantic. “No, you can’t. I—”

  Liz glared at her. “Is Matt coming here? Is that it? I’m all dolled up, buzzed from a margarita, and he’s made his big pitch on television? Now he swoops in and—” She threw one hand up in the air. “Sorry. I can’t do this.”

  “Wait! Where are you going? I drove.”

  “I’ll go across the street to The Menger. They’ll get a cab for me.” She shook off Dara’s hand and headed for the door. Just as she reached it, it opened, and she ran smack into Matt.

  “Whoa!” He grabbed her arms to hold her still. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

  “Let go of me, Matt.” She tried to pull her arms away. “I can’t stay. I can’t…I can’t do this.”