Paul continued. “Terri’s nickname is Kirk, which is probably a hell of a lot easier to yell than Terri, right?” Ah, another mystery solved, since he’d heard a few people say her nickname during the skate.
Terri nodded, shrugging and smiling. “I don’t really care what you call me, but yes, Kirk is easy to scream out on the ice.”
The other players seemed in awe of Terri, who shifted from foot to foot, leaning her chin on the top of her goalie stick. Mikael couldn’t tell if they were affected by her beauty or performance on the ice or some combination of both, like him. Paul appeared to sense how uncomfortable Terri felt under scrutiny and went on. “Anyway, the main object of this weekend is to have fun and raise lots of money for Supplies for Schools. So let’s go out there tonight and put on a good show for the fans!”
After the crowd dispersed, Mikael skated up to Paul. “Was there an entry fee for this tournament?”
“Yes, each team paid one thousand dollars. Then the fans will pay ten dollars a ticket, I think. Why?”
“I will pay for the entry fee.”
Paul shook his head, “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. Seriously, we’re beyond thrilled to have you skating with us. Between you and Terri we’ve got a real good chance out there.”
“I want to pay it. I will bring my checkbook tonight.”
“It’s already been paid.”
“Then I will give an extra donation. Or give your team some money to rent ice time or for something else you need.”
“That’s up to you, Matty, and would be real generous, but entirely up to you.” He reached out for a fist bump with Mikael and asked, “See you tonight?”
“I will be here.”
While he and Paul had spoken he’d noticed Terri had gone off in a different direction from the guys. She probably had her own dressing room. No way would I want to share with a bunch of men if I was the only woman on the team. Maybe her room doesn’t smell as bad as our locker room. If so, lucky girl.
*****
He had a surprising amount of fun at the game that night, though Mikael could’ve used a little less of the “Oh my God Mikael Maatta is here!!!!” stuff. He was just a guy who happened to be really good at a game and wasn’t an important person like doctors or teachers. The back-up goaltender for the Storm, Jordan, played for the other team, and they exchanged brief greetings in warm ups, but once the game started Jordan turned into a hilarious trash talker. The teams were pretty evenly matched in goaltending, which Mikael found very cool. His goaltender kicked ass.
A defenseman from the other team took Mikael off his feet and he landed on his ass to the right of Jordan, who called out, “Can’t stay on your feet, eh, Matty? Can’t stay on your feet?”
Matty got up, skated by, and said, “I’ll stay on my feet. But when I show my wrister, you won’t.”
Jordan chuckled. “We’ll see, bud, we’ll see.”
His team ended up winning 3-1 and afterward they gathered for a late dinner before dispersing to get some sleep before their nine a.m. game the next day. Terri went with them, and Mikael stealthily maneuvered things so they were sitting next to each other at the long table in the Pearl Street Grill, a huge, loud, packed place, which made talking difficult, but Mikael sensed Terri again was uncomfortable being the only woman on the team, so he tried to engage her in conversation.
“Are you from around here?”
Terri nodded. “Born and raised in Buffalo. I didn’t leave until I went to the University of Minnesota.”
“I played in Minnesota before coming here. I remember the news mentioning the team. They were very good. How long ago were you there?”
“I graduated two years ago.”
“So were you the starting goaltender?”
“Yeah. For the last three years I attended the university.” Terri’s face colored and Mikael shifted again, trying in vain to release tension in his groin. Why does watching her blush make me want to kiss her?
“It is funny that we were in the same city at the same time.”
“Well, the Icebreaker players didn’t exactly run with us.”
His brows drew down. “What do you mean, run?”
“Oh! Sorry. Just that you didn’t hang around with a female college team.”
“I would’ve if I’d known about you.” Mikael could’ve smacked himself, but then Terri blushed again and he forgot all about his dumbass comment.
“Anyway,” she said, fiddling with her silverware, “congratulations on the contract. That’s great for you.”
“Yes, when Buffalo called I accepted their offer quickly. I think they are a team that will win the Cup soon.”
“I hope so. The city could really use a championship team.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
She glanced over at him. “Um, sure.”
“You are a very, very good goaltender. Is there a place for you to play?”
“You mean professionally? No, not really,” Terri looked away, wringing her hands on her napkin as if trying to clean something off them. Still not meeting his gaze, she continued. “The starter for the Canadian women’s team signed as a backup for a minor league team, but there’s no female equivalent of a professional league like you play in. I put out some inquiries to other minor league teams, but haven’t gotten any responses. I’m not sure what I want to do now.”
“That sucks. You are really talented.”
Now she looked at him, a faint smile on her face. “Thanks. But can I just say I’m pretty happy you’re on my team and I don’t have to face your shots?”
Mikael snorted. “I would not win any hardest shot contests.”
Terri laughed. “Maybe not, but you’re incredibly quick.” He couldn’t help the smirk that broke out and Terri’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s not what I— Yeah, I’m shutting up now.”
Some servers approached with food, and both concentrated on eating for a little while. After games Mikael always felt like he could eat an entire cow, and sometimes he wished he could order something like the bacon double cheeseburger the man across the table from him had. But that guy didn’t have to watch his weight like a professional hockey player such as Mikael did. His livelihood depended on being the best, and being weighed down by extra calories and a ton of fat wouldn’t help with that.
They finished their dinner quickly and Mikael went back to the hotel while most of his teammates drove to their various homes. The next day Mikael had a hard time playing so early. He wasn’t used to this different schedule. Sure, teams sometimes had early games which began shortly after noon, but even for those he usually woke up four or five hours before game time to get his routines in. If he’d done that today, though, he would’ve been getting out of bed at four or five am. Instead, he rose at six-thirty, had a light breakfast, and jogged down to the arena to get his blood pumping. Not exactly a long jog, considering the arena and the complex with the hotel were attached, so he took a few loops through the still-empty concourse before heading for the locker room.
They got on the ice for warm ups and Mikael did two things first; sought out Terri to give her a tap on the pads, and take what he hoped was a non-obvious look at his teammates, given what he’d learned about them during the game the night before. Already he could see the difference between the true “garage leaguers” and those who’d probably wanted to play professionally but couldn’t for one reason or another. It always helped to know who the weakest links on the team were so you could cover for them. This might only be a charity tournament, but professional athletes like Mikael were incredibly competitive guys. They had to be. Mikael didn’t just like winning; he loathed losing. That third-round exit from the playoffs a few weeks ago still burned a hole in his gut.
Before the game began they talked about line combinations. The guys in charge asked if he’d be willing to be double-shifted and he agreed, so long as he could decline a second shift if he felt worn out. The team seemed ecstatic by his willingness to help and they all settl
ed into the game.
Mikael had been right when he assumed there was no checking in this tournament, which suited Mikael’s still somewhat sore body, but apparently that didn’t mean no pushing and shoving. One guy seemed determined to get the best of a professional hockey player to prove his toughness and kept elbowing him. Mikael tried to ignore him but the fourth time the guy did it, this one connecting with his jaw, he got tired of it and launched the player into his own team’s bench with a clean hip check, knowing it would make his team short-handed but unwilling to let some ass with an inferiority complex do something that would injure him. Elbows to the head were no laughing matter.
Watching the guy flail as his teammates tried to push him back out onto the ice made Mikael smile. He tried to hide it, though. No need to start a war. As soon as the ref blew the whistle, Mikael skated toward the penalty box. He really didn’t like to throw his weight around if he didn’t have to, especially in an environment like this, but who did this guy think he was dealing with? Getting tough with a professional hockey player didn’t seem all that smart to Mikael, who’d been hit by much larger, stronger men than this jerk and skated away unhurt.
One of his teammates stuck in his head in the door of the penalty box before it closed and said, “Don’t worry about that guy. You do what you need to do and we’ve got your back. He’s a hack.”
He felt better knowing at least some of the team didn’t seem upset he’d lost his temper. While the other team set up on the power play, Mikael alternated between watching Terri make acrobatic saves—why is that so sexy?—to glowering at the guy who’d elbowed him. After he got out of the box, he joined the play since his team was on the rush.
No goal came from the play, though, and a face off was about to happen in the opposing team’s zone when the man who’d elbowed him said, “Wanna go?”
Mikael looked at him like he had three heads. “I will not fight you.”
“Ah, so you’re just a pretty boy out here, tiptoeing through the tulips and waiting for a pass so you can show the rest of us how awesome you are?”
Snorting, Mikael otherwise didn’t respond but, as play started again, the man hacked him on the back of the shins. He went down from the impact and his teammates jumped the man. By the time the referees sorted everything, Mikael’s team had two in the box, the man had left the game with what looked like a broken nose, and one other opposing player was called for roughing. The teams ended up even.
His team won that game 5-2. Mikael had three assists, but no goals. He could’ve had a hat trick in the first period if he’d wanted to; instead he chose to pass the puck. Once the game ended, everybody showered and changed. As Mikael walked out the door of the arena, that same guy who’d caused trouble during the game leaned against a car, smirking. Mikael was surprised he could do that, given the twin black eyes and amount of white bandaging around his nose, but he managed. “Can’t score goals of your own? Gotta rely on your teammates to win the game for you?”
Mikael stopped, slowly turning to the man. He had no plans to fight anywhere, let alone in a parking lot outside his new home arena, but the guy needed to be told off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Terri had stopped too, along with a couple of guys from the man’s team. One of them called out to the man, “You got a death wish or something? Dude, he’s a professional hockey player who’s got thirty or forty pounds of pure muscle on you, easy. Might be a good idea to back away slowly before you annoy him and he ends you.”
The man appeared to disregard the warning, keeping his attention on Mikael, still sneering. “The Storm paid way too much for you. You’re soft, like a little flower.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Mikael took one step closer. He wouldn’t throw a punch, but had no problem with scaring the guy a little. The man needed someone to call him out on his behavior.
He stood taller than the man by a couple of inches, and he looked down into his eyes, which held a clear challenge. “It didn’t seem that way when I put you in your own bench. Or was it six rows up from that? I couldn’t see you after I checked you, so I’m not sure where you went.” The man turned red. Mikael had made his point. “The Storm feels differently than you do, and they are the ones who matter. Now how about you stop being a jerk at a hockey tournament that’s for the benefit of children? Not a very good example you are setting for them by playing dirty.”
One of the man’s teammates dragged him away, and Mikael hoped they wouldn’t have to play that team again. He couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to leave the ass alone.
Terri approached him. “You handled that beautifully. You’ll find, though, that most Buffalo fans are very supportive of the Storm, in good times and bad, and overwhelmingly they’re really excited you’re here. Don’t let him color your perception of the fans.”
He smiled. “I won’t.” Mikael came a half-step closer to Terri, but intimidation was the last thing on his mind. “I’m not a big fan of room service and I hate eating alone. Would you like to have lunch?”
She flushed. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Shrugging, he said, “If you want it to be a date, it will be. Otherwise just one friend helping another since I am not familiar with the area.”
“Hmm. Yeah, sure, why not?”
“Since you know where you are going, do you mind driving? Well, that and I don’t have a car here.”
Terri laughed. Motioning toward the parking lot across the street, she said, “No problem. Though I doubt you’ll be impressed by my car considering what you probably drive.”
“I do not waste my money on expensive cars. I send some back home for my family and invest most of the rest.”
She nodded, as they began to walk to her car. “That’s great. It will serve you well once you’re done playing.”
“My parents are not rich. They are not poor, but definitely are not rich, and spent much so I could keep playing. They taught us to save our money when we could.”
“Always a good lesson.” Terri indicated a car. “This is me. Like I said, nothing fancy.”
Mikael looked it over. “It’s a good car. Why do you put it down?”
Terri unlocked the doors and then began to climb inside. “It’s just kinda small. And not exactly new.”
“As I said, my parents aren’t rich, even with the money I send them, since I have brothers and sisters with children and a grandmother who is not in good health. This is a fine car. I really don’t drive anything fancy. I would feel guilty if I did. The only thing I made sure of was that I had four-wheel-drive for when we get back at 2:00 a.m., I’m exhausted and it’s been snowing.”
As they got on the road, Terri asked, “Anything particular you like or don’t like?”
He considered the question. “Spicy is probably no good if we’ve got games left. Probably beef or seafood, since I will eat chicken and pasta tomorrow, as long as they don’t schedule us to play so early again.”
“Tomorrow will probably be a one o’clock game. They try to mix it up so all the teams have to deal with the earlier games. Do you cook for yourself?”
“Yes, usually. Before my mother allowed me to come to the US she taught me how to cook. She’d heard all these stories about the way Americans eat.”
She chuckled, her face lighting up in a smile that about took his breath away. He was thankful for the fact Terri was driving and not fully concentrating on him, since that smile had affected other parts of Mikael as well. Why do I have so much trouble controlling myself around her?
“I have to ask. What kind of stories?”
“Oh, about how you eat lots of fast food, drink a lot. It’s interesting to live in the US after growing up somewhere else and seeing that, in many ways, it is just like where I’m from. Many of the same problems, some of the same good things.”
Terri made a turn and then said, “By the way, I’m heading toward this little place that makes a really great seafood stew. They have a lot of other seafood on the menu too. Is that okay?”
“That sounds very good. I ate a lot of seafood growing up, since we lived on the coast in Finland.”
“What kinds are your favorites?”
Mikael thought about it for a moment. “Herring is probably the best known fish from Finland.”
“I didn’t ask about the most common fish.” She teased him, with a glance out of the corner of her eye. “I asked which you like best.”
“All right, I will tell you,” he replied, in the same teasing tone of voice. “I like salmon. And that is good because many restaurants in the US have salmon. They make it differently than we do in Finland, but I like some of the flavors here better, actually.”
“Here we are.” Terri pulled into a parking lot. As they got out and walked toward the restaurant, she said, “You speak excellent English, by the way.”
“You will laugh when I tell you why.”
“I promise not to.” But a smile crept up on her face anyway.
Heaving a pretend sigh, he said, “The Simpsons TV show is very popular in Finland. We have many American TV shows and movies, some spoken in Finnish and some not. The Simpsons, for some reason, was always in English. The really strange thing is that many Finns think America is like what they see on the television. Every time I go home, people ask me if I saw someone famous, or if I knew anyone who wasn’t ‘white’. I have heard much of the rest of the world is like this about the US, but now that I have been here for years I find it quite funny.”
“I’ve heard that too, especially when I’ve traveled for international competitions, and always laugh.”
He held open the door for her. They were seated quickly and had a pleasant meal. Mikael ordered salmon and Terri teased him about it. He liked hearing her laugh. After lunch she dropped him off at his hotel and said she’d see him tomorrow. Mikael wanted to kiss her but didn’t dare, since Terri hadn’t said if she considered their lunch a date or not, so he just smiled and got out of the car.
Red Hot and BOOM! A Sizzling Hot Collection of Stories from the Red Hot Authors Page 40
