Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  Quickly, she removed her hand.

  Zim smiled. “This isn’t awkward at all.”

  Suji chuckled. “Sorry, you just caught me off-guard.”

  “Something tells me that doesn’t happen very often. And I get the feeling you don’t like it.”

  “Not normally, no.” She felt herself smiling, and Zim returned it. They fell into a bubble of silence that seemed to stretch and grow.

  “Hey, Zim.”

  A big, burly man with mahogany skin and big, black eyes stepped up to them.

  “Oh, hey Tony.” He shook the man’s hand. “Tony, this is Nurse Meriwether. Nurse Meriwether, this is Tony.”

  “Miss.” Tony shook her hand before turning back to Zim. “Motz wants to know where to set up The Cup.”

  Zim nodded toward Suji. “She’s in charge around here.”

  “I think the game room is best,” she replied.

  “I know where it is, I can show you.” Zim smiled at her, and something fluttered in her stomach. “I’m sure Ms. Meriwether has plenty to do. Let’s not get in her hair, lovely as it is.”

  Wait. Was he flirting with her?

  Before she could react, Zim and Tony headed back toward the elevator. A few minutes later, they returned with two other men. One was almost as big as Tony, with closely cropped blond hair and an unfortunate goatee. The other was small, wiry, and around fifty years old. He rushed to keep up, and kept pushing his too-big glasses up the bridge of his nose and swiping his dark brown hair out of his eyes. Between them, the two larger men wheeled an enormous black case. It was big enough to hold a small adult.

  Or even a large child, Suji thought, eyeing the thing. She’d have to make sure none of the kids climbed inside.

  The three men headed toward the game room, Zim leading the way. Suji trailed behind, watching with fascination as Zim moved. Having seen him on the dance floor, she noted that he was equally sexy off of it. This was a dangerous thought.

  No matter how philanthropic, sympathetic, and charming he may seem, he was still a pro athlete. Not exactly marriage material.

  Marriage?

  What the hell had they put in her coffee this morning? Suji was never one to daydream about white picket fences and two-point-five children. She was the de facto mother to hundreds of kids over the course of a year. But one makeout sesh with a hockey player, and she was having wet dreams and Martha Stewart fantasies.

  Seriously, what the hell?

  Maybe it was how good his hands felt when he grabbed her arms to keep her from falling, or the cheeky grin he’d given her. Or the dozen inebriated kisses they’d shared. Whatever it was, she needed to get her head back on straight. Fast.

  “Excuse me, miss?” The wiry man walked over to her.

  “Yes?”

  “Is there somewhere we can stash the case? I don’t want to leave it for the kids to injure themselves.”

  “Of course, Mr…”

  “Motz, but call me Eddie.”

  “Eddie, I’m Suji. I’m happy to have it placed in storage. Tell me, though, how many reporters are you expecting here today?”

  “Oh, well, I’m not in charge of the press coverage. That’s Zim’s team. Speaking of which, I think his agent is on the way. You could ask him. My only job is keeping The Cup safe.”

  “Really?” She chuckled. “Safe from what?”

  “Damage, mostly.” Eddie removed his glasses and proceeded to clean them with a square of black cloth that seemed to appear out of nowhere. “You’d be surprised what some of the players get up to with their twenty-four hours.”

  Suji frowned. “Twenty-four hours?”

  “Each player on The Cup-winning team gets twenty-four hours with it, as does the coach, some other members of the coaching staff and some management.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  That Zim had chosen to spend part of his day at the hospital melted just a little bit of the ice around her heart.

  “Zim actually gets it a bit longer, since he’s the last to have The Cup before I take it back to Toronto.” Eddie replaced his glasses and tucked the cloth away in his pocket. “I got in last evening, and I don’t fly out again until early tomorrow.”

  Suji nodded. “I bet you’ve seen some crazy stuff, then. With The Cup and the players, I mean.”

  Eddie nodded. “You have no idea. Maybe someday I’ll write a book,” he snickered. “I love my job, though. Guys like Zim make it easier. We have this event for the kids, and a fundraiser of some sort tonight. I’m not sure what he has planned in the interim, but I doubt there will be any wild parties. Besides, that’s not his reputation.”

  “Do you know him well?” She couldn’t help but ask.

  “Only via league hearsay. From that, he seems like a stand-up guy.”

  Suji nodded. “Well, that’s nice.”

  “Anyway, if you’ll point me in the direction of your storage room, I’ll be out of your way.”

  8

  Zim’s agent was not a happy man.

  “No television?”

  “Nope.”

  “At all?” The man was actually whining.

  “None.”

  Marty Kohn sighed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “Why do you insist on making my job so god-damned difficult?”

  “Watch your language, this is a children's’ ward.”

  Marty held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, I just…I’m trying to get you another endorsement deal.”

  “Which I don’t need or want.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Marty waved him off. “You say that, but if I put a contract worth five mil in front of you, you’d sign it in a New York minute.”

  “Excuse me,” a very young, very blond, very pretty woman in nursing scrubs interrupted. “Are you Subzero?”

  Ugh. As if the jersey and the big shiny trophy hadn’t given it away.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  Her eyes brightened as she turned to wave over two other young women, both equally attractive. The taller one had smooth skin, the color of sorrel, with sharp cheekbones and a wicked smile. The other was a redhead with fair, freckled skin and ice blue eyes. All three women presented a nice picture, but the predatory gleam in their eyes was all too familiar.

  “We were wondering if we could take a selfie with you.”

  Fuck no. “Um…”

  “He’d be happy to,” Marty answered for him. “Anything for his fans. Right, Subzero?”

  “I’m from New Orleans,” the brunette offered, sidling up to Zim. “My dad is a big Rage fan, and I am too.”

  “Cool.” Her tits were fans too, apparently, since she kept pushing them against his side.

  She snaked one arm around his waist and smiled as she stuck out the other, long, bony arm, her camera in hand.

  Zim attempted what he hoped was a smile as she snapped a few photos. Her friends then took turns doing the same, and Zim tried not to let on how much he hated it. Social media was a menace, as far as he was concerned, and he avoided it at all costs.

  “Thank you,” the blond purred, going up on tiptoe to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Her perfume was a cloying mixture of flowers and baby powder.

  “Sure.”

  The trio giggled, heads-down over their phones as they walked away. Zim looked up in time to see Suji, her expression sour. Great. She turned and walked briskly in the other direction.

  Out of the corner of his eye. Zim caught sight of a shady looking dude with a camera. He wore a press pass, so he was probably legit, but there was something about him that set off alarm bells.

  “Who is that guy?”

  Marty turned to follow Zim’s line of sight. “Oh, that’s Craig Bannon from the Inquirer. He wants to interview you, get a few shots of you with the kids.”

  Zim shook his head. “I’m fine with a short interview, but absolutely no shots of the kids. Not with me and not without the parents’ permission, or the hospital’s. Marty, you know the rules.”

  “Yea
h, but I thought we could ask. It would look great for you to be seen…”

  “No. Fuck!” Zim tried to temper the rage in his voice. Marty was a decent guy, as agents went, but he’d never hesitate to play an angle. “Just…no.”

  “Fine, fine.” Marty raised his hands in surrender. “But about that endorsement deal…”

  Zim groaned. “Not everything is about money, Marty. And I already make more than I can spend.”

  “But you won’t play forever. Look at what happened to Jonas.”

  The low growl that emanated from Zim’s throat made Marty take a step back.

  “I only meant that you have to start thinking about your future. What about your wife and kids? Don’t you want to provide for them?”

  “Wife and kids?”

  “Theoretically.”

  “Of course, but…”

  “And what about this here charity thing?” Marty continued. “You need money for that.”

  He had a point. “Who wants to offer me five million, and for what?”

  “MacroMuscle,” Marty supplied. “It’s a sports supplement.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Yeah, well, no one has. That’s why they want you to be their spokesperson.”

  Zim snorted. “Why would I endorse something I’ve never heard of, much less have ever used.”

  Marty stuck a hand into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers, shuffling through them until he found whatever he was looking for.

  “The product is all-natural, all of the ingredients are sourced here in the U.S., and the company’s owner is a big Rage fan.”

  “I don’t know, Marty.” Zim ran a hand through his hair.

  On the other side of the room, some of the patients and their parents had started to gather around The Cup. The photographer he’d hired, a kid right out of Penn Arts University, had set up lighting and a neutral backdrop to give each visitor a nice souvenir to take home. A few of the nurses had already taken their photos. There had been no sign of Tiffany or little Aaron, and Zim wondered if they had been discharged.

  “Just think about it, Zim.” Marty insisted. “You could donate the entire fee to your little charity thing if you wanted. Minus my cut, of course,” he added.

  “Yeah, sure,” Zim agreed. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Great, great.” Marty smiled with apparent relief. “Listen, can we take a quick shot of us with The Cup? I’ve got to get going.”

  “Sure.”

  After Marty had left, Zim realized he hadn’t eaten anything in hours. His body was a well-oiled machine that consumed a crazy amount of calories. He had to constantly refuel, or he’d get tired and cranky.

  He ducked out of the game room to find the cafeteria, where he grabbed a turkey sandwich – which he scarfed down before even finished paying for it – and a couple of bananas. He’d just swallowed the last bit of the fruit when he spotted Suji.

  She had her head over what appeared to be a patient’s chart. Judging by her clothing, the woman standing next to her was a doctor. Zim watched the exchange, fascinated by the petite brunette.

  There was an air of authority to her, like she wouldn’t take shit from anyone, no matter who they were. But at the same time, Zim sensed a carefully guarded vulnerability. The duality intrigued him, and he wondered again if it would be too crazy to ask her out. He hadn’t intended to bring a date to the fundraiser, but for her, he’d change his plans. He’d had a small taste of her, and it hadn’t been nearly enough.

  She was gorgeous, even with minimal make-up and wrinkled scrubs the color of Pepto Bismol, covered in cartoon unicorns. He’d met so many women who put their appearance above everything else that he found Suji refreshing.

  Zim had been so busy staring at her that he hadn’t noticed she was staring right back. He straightened, trying to think of a way to cover.

  Suji and the doctor parted ways, and she made her way over to him.

  “Did you need something, Mr. Zimin?”

  Zim already knew how this scenario would play out, but he went for it anyway.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  The expression on Suji’s face would have been comical if it weren’t directed at him. Her eyes, as gorgeous as they were, were cold as freshly laid ice.

  “I have a better idea,” she said in a voice like the darkest hot chocolate. “Why don’t you find one of those young nursing students to keep you company tonight. They seemed pretty eager to become a notch on a hockey star’s belt.”

  Ouch.

  “Assuming, of course, there’s still room on that belt.” She continued and let out a laugh as tart as fresh lemonade. “What am I saying? You could always buy another. I’m sure you have one in every color.”

  If looks could kill, Zim was sure hers would have fitted him with cement shoes and sent him sinking to the bottom of the Schuylkill River.

  Zim chuckled. He really did like this woman. “Look, Nurse Meriwether.”

  “Her name is Suji,” a small voice chimed. Tiffany peered around an open door, her green eyes flashing. Great. Not only was Zim about to be rejected, but it would happen in front of a precocious preteen.

  “Tiffany…” Suji’s demeanor did a complete one-eighty as she turned from him and gave her full attention to her young patient. “You don’t volunteer personal information like that to strangers.”

  “But he’s not a stranger,” young Tiffany protested as Suji walked into her room. “He’s Subzero.”

  Zim followed close behind, though he knew he probably shouldn’t. It was just that Suji’s transformation from annoyance to profound and genuine concern, wrapped up as it was in a blanket of easy smiles, intrigued him beyond measure. He watched as she drew back the curtain that had blocked the view of the bed from the door and cupped the young girl’s face, a face that brightened even more with the contact.

  The sight tugged at Zim’s heartstrings. But all the machinery surrounding the young girl brought him up short.

  When he’d met Tiffany the day before, she’d been so energetic. Forceful, even. Aside from the pale, matching hospital gowns over their pajamas, she and Aaron had just looked like two kids arguing over a video game. Seeing Tiffany hooked up to the machines that surrounded her bed seemed wrong on so many levels.

  Zim cleared the tight regret from his throat. “Heya, Tiff.”

  Her mouth was two-teeth short of a full smile. “Hey.”

  He winked and offered what he hoped was a reassuring grin.

  There were so many things beeping, so many lines of thin plastic tubing snaking their way toward her little body, Zim couldn’t find his breath. It reminded him too much of his sister, Mila. He took a step back from the bed. Then another. And another, until he was clear of the sight of her, though he could still hear the ping ping ping of her heartbeat monitor.

  Zim found himself standing next to an empty waiting room at the other end of the ward. Grateful for the solitude, he sat on the edge of the unforgiving chair. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before a familiar voice roused him from his thoughts.

  “A-are you alright?”

  He glanced up to find little Aaron standing in front of him, his expression filled with concern.

  “I’m fine,” he croaked.

  Aaron moved closer. The bitter smell of antiseptic fought for dominance over the delicate scent of fabric softener as he sat down next to him. The hand he placed on Zim’s knee was warm, and Zim hadn’t realized how much he needed the touch.

  “Did you lose somebody?”

  Zim nodded. Of course, he’d recognize the signs. “My sister.”

  “I’m sorry.” Aaron’s voice, so filled with sympathy, had Zim fighting back tears he hadn’t shed in almost a decade. He managed to grind out a thank you and forced a smile.

  Zim heard something, a mechanical clicking. Like a camera shutter. He turned toward the noise, but couldn’t place the source.

  “Hey there,” Suji appeared in the doorway. “What’s this, a c
onspiracy?” She smiled as she walked into the room.

  “Subzero is sad,” Aaron offered, mournfully.

  “I’m okay, buddy.” Zim took a deep breath and forced what he hoped was a more convincing smile. “Just memories, that’s all.”

  “Aaron, how about you let Subzero have a few minutes before he comes out for the autographs and photos?” Suji patted the young boy lightly on the shoulder, and he stood.

  “Okay.” He shuffled toward the door, his I.V. pole in tow. “But if you need to talk, I can talk to you.”

  Zim thought he might start bawling any minute. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll be right there. Hold the fort for me, okay?”

  Aaron brightened. “I’m in charge until you get there?”

  “That’s right,” Zim replied, not needing to force a smile this time.

  As Aaron disappeared from sight, Suji sat in his place.

  “How old was she?” Suji’s voice was softer than he’d ever heard it, with an almost musical quality.

  “We’d just turned seventeen.”

  Her hand found his and squeezed. “You’re serious about wanting to do this thing for the kids?”

  Zim met her eyes, nodding. “There’s a lot that I want to do, plans I want to make, I-“

  “Okay, then,” she interrupted. “Yes.”

  “Huh?”

  A soft smile curved her full lips. “I’ll have dinner with you, and then you can tell me all about it.”

  Had she really just agreed to go out with a hockey star?

  “You did what?” Mimi sounded as astonished as Suji felt.

  “I told him I’d have dinner with him.”

  “Shit, girl. You go from zero to sixty like that, huh?”

  “It’s not like that,” Suji argued. “There’s a fundraiser tonight, and I agreed to go with him. He’s going to fill me in on some foundation that he’s starting.”

  Mimi pursed her lips. “Sweetheart, who are you trying to fool? You haven’t stopped looking at that yummy slice of beefcake since he stepped into the game room.”