Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

Lilya’s face fell. “Oh, you are married?”

  Way to be subtle, mama, Zim thought.

  “Oh! No, Mrs. Zimin.”

  “She meant the children in her ward, mama.”

  Just like that, the light returned to her eyes. He would have to have a chat with his mother later.

  “Oh, good.”

  Suji’s brows knit together, but she smiled.

  “I-I didn’t mean good, I meant,” his mother floundered. “Excuse me, my English is not so good.”

  Zim stifled a laugh.

  His father, on the other hand, did not. He took his seat, shaking his head and cackling to himself.

  “Please excuse my wife, she is a hopeless romantic.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Suji replied, still smiling.

  Zim made a mental note of that fact too.

  “Mama, papa, we’re going to find our table and leave you to it. Enjoy yourselves, da?”

  His mother grabbed his forearm and pulled.

  Zim bent over, and she cupped his cheek, turning his head.

  “You really like her,” she whispered.

  “I just met her, mama,” Zim whispered back.

  She released him and caught his eye, her expression full of mischief.

  “So, go get to know her better.” She winked.

  Fortunately, Suji had been occupied by another guest.

  Zim joined her. When she was done, he offered his arm, which she took.

  He’d chosen a table at the other end of the ship, away from the bulk of the partygoers. This way, he could put in the requisite time with them, and retreat when he needed to.

  “This is pretty far from the action, isn’t it?” Suji noted.

  “By design.”

  “Want me all to yourself do you?” She was still teasing, but Zim saw something else in her eyes. Uncertainty.

  He was right there with her. He couldn’t deny the attraction, but he wasn’t sure what they were doing at this point. He had no game plan.

  Instead of answering, he offered to pour her some wine. “Red or white?”

  “In this dress, I’m safe with red.”

  Zim raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m a clutz when it comes to any sort of fancy dress. I can tap a vein with my eyes closed, hook up a drip in seconds, but put me in a dress? I’m Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed.” Suji grinned.

  Zim hadn’t seen the film, but he got the gist of it. “Red it is. And the dress is beautiful, by the way.”

  Was that a blush on her cheeks? “Thanks. I borrowed it from my sister. She’s into clothes and all that.”

  Zim filled her glass and then his own. “And you’re not?”

  “I don’t have much occasion for street clothes. But I own about a hundred different sets of scrubs, in every conceivable color and pattern.”

  Zim chuckled. “I liked the unicorns.”

  “Yeah?” She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “I’m partial to those myself. And the kids love them.”

  “Hey,” Zim started. “How is Tiffany?”

  Suji’s expression sobered. “She’s actually okay. She had chemo this morning, and she sometimes reacts badly. That’s why she wasn’t at the party today.”

  “Ah.”

  “But she’s been responding really well to treatment. We have every confidence she’ll beat this thing.”

  “That is fantastic news.”

  Suji’s smile was a mixture of pride and relief. “It is.”

  They sat in silence for a few awkward moments. Zim racked his brain for a topic of conversation that didn’t revolve around her work.

  “Tell me about your sport,” Suji said, rescuing him. “I confess, I know nothing about it. When did you start playing?”

  If there was one thing Zim could talk about, ad nauseum, it was hockey.

  “My father strapped my sister and I both into skates as soon as we could walk. We lived near the Ice Palace in St. Petersburg.”

  “Oh,” Suji said. “I didn’t know you were born in Russia. How old were you when you moved to the United States?”

  “Ten.” Thankfully, she didn’t ask why, so Zim continued. “Anyway, my father played hockey before he met my mother, so he’s always been in love with the sport. He passed that on to me.”

  “And what do you love about it?” Suji watched him with glittering, amber eyes.

  Zim kept getting caught in that mysterious gaze.

  “The speed, the skills you need to develop, the discipline,” Zim answered without thinking. “I love the camaraderie with my teammates. Unlike some other sports, it’s never a one-man show. One player hardly ever carries a whole team.”

  “You have to work as a unit.”

  “Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

  “Not so different from my and my team,” Suji remarked. “Not one of us could do the job alone. We work together to make sure each child has the care they need.”

  Zim nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. My teammates and I work together toward our target, scoring goals, winning games.”

  “And ultimately that shiny trophy on the other side of the room.”

  Zim grinned. “That too.”

  “So, your father got you started, and then you moved here to Philadelphia.”

  “Yeah, where I joined a ten-and-under league.”

  Suji's eyes went wide. “They have a league for kids that young?”

  “Younger. It’s better to start very young. Though, at that age, it’s more about getting the kids comfortable with being on the ice. Skating and stopping. Control. Falling.”

  “Falling?” Suji laughed.

  “You fall a lot.” Zim couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “A whole hell of a lot until you’re about sixteen when the skates and the stick feel more like extensions of your body.”

  “And now, here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  “Well, if I didn’t say it before, congratulations on winning.”

  Suji raised her glass and Zim followed suit.

  “Thanks. And thank you for…accompanying me tonight.”

  “So far, so good,” Suji said, her mouth curving in a grin.

  “Very much so.” Zim loved the blush that spread across her cheeks.

  “There you are,” Marty jogged up to the table. “We need you to make your speech, take some group shots, that sort of thing. Hi, Nurse Meriwether.”

  “Suji is fine,” she offered. “And don’t let me keep you, Zim. I know you have obligations.”

  He stood, hating the fact that they’d finally gotten to talk and he was being pulled away.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he assured her.

  She waved him off. “Go make money for my kids.”

  Zim smiled. “That’s the plan.”

  11

  Suji stood near the back of the room to watch the introductions and speeches. She wasn’t a big fan of these types of events, but couldn’t deny that the turnout seemed promising. She recognized a few faces from the local elite. Politicians, entertainers, entrepreneurs. Hopefully, their checkbooks were open.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Calvin addressed the crowd, Zim at his side. “You all know why you’re here tonight, to benefit the children of The Hospital of the University of Philadelphia, but you don’t yet know the specifics of it. I’m joined by a local philanthropist and temporary owner of that beautiful trophy over there.”

  There was a light smattering of applause.

  “Constantine Zimin is one of the most generous and humble young men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I admit, when he first approached us with the promise to help raise funds for our new Pediatrics wing, I was skeptical. But what I’ve learned of him, of the kind of person he is, I have no doubt that we’ll do great things together. He recently shared some amazing news with me, and I invite him to share it with you. Zim?”

  Zim stepped up to the microphone, looking decidedly uncomfortable in the spotlight. “Mama? Papa? Would you join me?”

  His pa
rents, surprised, judging by the looks on their faces, walked over to where he stood. There was a large, flat board on a tripod next to him, covered with a cloth.

  “When I was nine years old,” he began, addressing those gathered. “My twin sister, Mila, was diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer, Ewing Sarcoma.”

  Suji’s hand went to her throat. Ewing was a devastating form of the disease, and her heart went out to the Zimin family. She watched as Mr. Zimin quietly put his arms around his wife.

  “At the time, the only real successes with treating Ewing were happening here at THUP. So, my father packed us all up, and we moved to Philadelphia to seek treatment. Dr. Jakob Kohn and his staff’s forward-thinking gave us seven more years with my sister. We are forever grateful for that.”

  The crowd applauded, with a murmur of hear-hears as Zim and his parents gathered themselves. Suji could see the toll the loss of his sister had had on the three of them, his mother in particular.

  “This year marks the tenth anniversary of Mila’s death,” Zim continued, his voice tight, hands shaking. “And, in her memory, I’m announcing my foundation, Mila’s Room.”

  Zim and Calvin each took a corner of the cloth draped over the display and pulled, revealing a pale purple sign with dark purple lettering. The words “Mila’s Room” curved along the mane of an abstract horse of some kind. No, not a horse, a unicorn.

  “Mila’s Room will provide assistance to families who find it an unbearable, financial hardship to travel to THUP for treatment, and will also offer temporary housing to those who need it,” Zim announced with obvious pride. “I’ve donated the $200,000 bonus I received for winning The Cup, and I will be donating a portion of my salary for as long as I am able to play the game. What I need from you tonight is your pledge to support this cause.”

  There was more applause as Zim relinquished the microphone to the President of the Board of Directors for THUP, Dr. Sheryl Newell.

  “Thank you, Mr. Zimin, for choosing THUP for the pilot program of Mila’s Room. We’re sure our children and their families will want to thank you themselves, once they learn of this.”

  Suji tuned out the rest of the chatter as she watched Zim accept handshakes from attendees. The entire time, his parents stayed close, still shaken by the announcement. His mother kept covering her mouth with her hand. Her husband would whisper in her ear and then she’d nod.

  Clearly anxious to get away, Zim turned to his parents and ushered them back toward their table. He glanced up and caught Suji’s eye, nodding to indicate that she follow.

  She did. How could she not? He was…this guy was…

  Shit.

  The lone butterfly that had stretched its wings in her stomach back at the hospital had returned. With about a hundred thousand of her friends.

  “Zim,” Suji breathed, unable to articulate her feelings.

  He smiled. “Surprise.”

  “You’re such a good boy, such a dear boy,” his mother crooned, still near tears as she sat at the table.

  “How long have you been planning this?” His father asked, just as moved.

  Zim pulled a couple of chairs over to their table, holding one out for Suji.

  She felt like an intruder. “Maybe I should let you have some family time.”

  “Nonsense,” Lilya Zimin stated. “You’re practically family.”

  “Mama,” Zim softly chided her before turning to Suji. “Please stay.”

  The request was quiet as he met her eyes.

  Suji nodded once and sat.

  Zim lowered into the chair beside her and took his mother’s hand. “I’m sorry I kept the news from you. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “We’re not upset, Kolya,” his father insisted. “It’s wonderful, we think it’s wonderful.”

  Zim’s mother nodded, patting his cheek.

  “He is the best son we ever could have wished for,” she said as she turned her silver-gray eyes on Suji. “We miss our Mila every day, but Zim has always exceeded our expectations. He has such a big heart.”

  “Yes, he does,” Suji agreed.

  Zim turned to her, his expression inscrutable. Something had changed in the air between them over the last couple of hours. The glance became a look. The look, a stare. The stare, a monolog full of promises, both filthy and sweet. Something told Suji knew he could deliver it all.

  “I think dinner is served,” Lilya broke the silence, snapping the bubble of tension. “Why don’t you two young people go back to your quiet corner and enjoy your meal in peace.” She gave her son a smile the Suji couldn’t read.

  Zim nodded. “You’ll enjoy the meal, I picked the menu with you in mind.”

  He clasped his father on the shoulder as he stood and then offered his hand to Suji.

  She took it, finding his warm and sturdy. Rather than let her go, he entwined their fingers as he led her through the dining room.

  The waiter appeared as soon as they sat down, sparing her any uncomfortable silence.

  “I’ll have the petite sirloin, medium” she informed him.

  “The porterhouse for me, medium rare.” Zim poured them both more wine.

  “This really is an amazing thing that you’re doing,” Suji spoke before the silence stretched on too long.

  “Thanks, but it’s not all me.”

  “I know, but it’s your initiative. Don’t be too shy to take credit where credit is due.”

  Zim chuckled. “Shy? No. I just…dislike excess attention.”

  “I gathered.”

  “Enough about me, though,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Tell me more about Sujarta Meriwether. Are you from Philly?”

  “Born and raised. My father is as well. My mother is from Mumbai.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit India,” Zim confessed, much to Suji’s surprise.

  “You should. It’s an experience. Beautiful country.”

  “And did you always want to go into nursing? You seem young for someone in your position.”

  “I just turned thirty.”

  “Oh,” he laughed softly. “An older woman. I like it.”

  Suji gaped at him. “I’m older than you?”

  “Not by much. When’s your birthday?”

  “September twenty-third.”

  “Only just turned, then,” he smiled, raising his glass. “Happy belated birthday, Nurse Meriwether.”

  Suji held her glass up to his. “Cheers, thanks.”

  “I celebrated my twenty-seventh back in June,” he offered. “I suppose winning The Cup was my present.”

  “So, I’m less than two years older.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he teased, his voice dipping down into a different octave.

  The sound of it sent shivers up Suji’s spine.

  “Are you all right?” Zim’s brow knit with concern.

  Suji nodded. “Yeah, I just need some water.”

  She took a sip from her glass and tried to get a grip on herself.

  Suji couldn’t deny her body’s reaction to Constantine Zimin, but it was moving quickly past physical attraction and into unchartered territory.

  She liked Zim.

  He was kind, generous, polite, funny, and it didn’t hurt that she want to lick him like an ice cream cone.

  And maybe her face had telegraphed that last thought a little too clearly because Zim was definitely staring at her. At her mouth, specifically.

  She licked her lips to test the theory and, sure enough, he swallowed. Hard.

  Luckily, the food arrived. During the meal, the conversation turned to the logistics of setting up a charity and rounded back to Suji’s career in nursing.

  “You just woke up one day and decided this was what you wanted to do?”

  “Essentially,” she replied as the waiter brought dessert, a decadent portion of tiramisu with two spoons. How romantic.

  They’d polished off a bottle of red and were working on their second.

  “My be
st friend got sick when I was in the second grade,” Suji offered. “I remember visiting her in the hospital on the weekends, so upset that there was nothing I could do to help her. Her nurse had been amazing, though. She was a large woman with a cloud of white hair on her head. I used to think she was Mrs. Claus.”

  Zim laughed.

  Suji smiled. It was a nice laugh. “After she recovered, I kept going back to the hospital to visit other sick kids.”

  “Really?”

  “Is that strange?”

  “No.” Zim slowly shook his head. “I could see you doing just that.”

  12

  Zim had a problem.

  He was scheduled to return to training camp in just a few days and, for the first time in his career, he was not looking forward to it. This woman.

  This woman.

  “Am I that easy to read?”

  Zim cleared his throat. “Sorry, what?”

  He grabbed a spoon and offered it to her, taking one for himself. Zim waited until she took the first bite, enjoying the way her eyes rolled back into her head and the soft, little moan that escaped her throat.

  Christ.

  “My sister teases me about being so focused on the hospital, but it’s who I am. I am a pediatric nurse.”

  “It’s admirable, but it isn’t all you are, Suji.”

  “No? And hockey isn’t all you are?” She challenged him. “You’re all about your training and your team, so tell me. How are we so different?”

  She had him there.

  “I think,” he hedged. “Well, I’m learning that we don’t have to be one thing and nothing else. I love hockey, but…”

  “But?” She leaned forward, one arm on the table and the other hovering over the plate between them.

  “My best friend, Jonas…”

  “Is he a teammate?”

  “Yes, or was. He just retired,” Zim explained. “He got injured pretty badly during the Cup finals.”

  “Oh,” her brow crinkled. He wanted to reach across the table and smooth it out. “Is he all right now?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay. Almost completely recovered. But it took that incident to make him see there was more to life than what we do for a living. He’d left someone behind, and now he’s with her again. And he’s happy.”