Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by A. E. Wasp

  “Charles wanted to make the kids quit skating,” she said without looking at Alex.

  Alex had expected he would. “Did he?” His hand curled around the handles of the bag. He’d been so worried about the money he would lose when Charles stopped paying for lessons that it hadn’t registered that he might never see Daisy and Zane again.

  Allie shook her head. “I didn’t let him.” She sat back up, running her fingers through her hair.

  Alex smelled the floral shampoo she used.

  “He was in a foul mood this morning,” she said. “Like someone took his favorite toy away.”

  “Oh, really?” Alex strove to keep his voice steady.

  She nodded. “I think he’s cheating on me.”

  Why are you talking to me about this? Alex wanted to ask. Didn’t she have girlfriends or a therapist or, perish the thought, even Charles to talk to? Did she know it was him? Alex’s mouth dried up at the thought.

  He sat there torn between desperately needing to follow this conversation, and a desire to run out of the rink.

  “I don’t know why I thought I was special. He cheated on his first wife with me. I deserve it.” She slumped on the bench.

  “No, you don’t, Allie. No one deserves to be cheated on.”

  She shook her head, and suddenly she looked older than her twenty-six years. “I knew what I was getting. Please don’t think badly of me, but I was so desperate to get out of Poughkeepsie. I would have done anything.” She turned to face Alex. “I was a waitress at the hotel he was staying at for some conference. In my defense, I didn’t know he was married at first.”

  Me neither, Alex thought. “I would never judge you for that,” he said with an edge of bitterness. “Believe me.”

  He had to tell her the truth about him and her husband. The cheerful Christmas bag weighed heavily on his fingers and his conscience. He couldn’t add that burden to her holiday. After New Year’s, after her trip, he would call her and lay it all on the line.

  “I was a pretty, young girl from a crap town with a shitty family. I was perfect for him to control. He knew what he was doing. I was stupid.”

  “Not stupid, naïve.” He had to ask her. “Do you know who it is?” He held his breath while waiting for her answer.

  “Does it matter?” she said after a pause long enough to give Alex a heart attack. “I actually feel bad for whoever it is this time. I just wish I could warn them about who he really is, what he’s really like.”

  He noticed she was very careful in her pronoun usage. Allie was smarter than Charles gave her credit for. Alex would put money on the fact that one day he was going to regret that. “Do you ever think of leaving him?” Alex asked. He rubbed his hands on the wood railing worn smooth from years of hands.

  “And go where with what money? Back to Poughkeepsie to my parents? I’d rather be homeless,” Allie said seriously.

  Alex wanted to wrap her up and take her home with him. Too bad he was technically homeless himself. He couldn’t take care of himself, let alone another human. “If you get a divorce, doesn’t he have to give you alimony and child support and all that?”

  Allie smiled at Alex as if he were the naïve one now. She patted his knee. “He’ll fight me with everything. I saw what happened to his first wife, Melissa. It was brutal. I can’t fight him. I can’t afford my own lawyer. I can’t afford anything. I live rich, but I’m a kept woman.”

  She looked like she was about to say more, but then her eyebrows shot up in surprise at something behind Alex. “Oh my,” Allie muttered under her breath. “I would climb that man like a tree.”

  Alex snorted and turned to see Sergei and another man headed their way. It must be the goalie Sergei was meeting here. “Which one?” he whispered back.

  Allie giggled. “Either. Both. I’m not picky.”

  Sergei broke into a broad smile as if he hadn’t seen Alex in days instead of the mere half an hour they’d been separated. Alex would tease him about it if he weren't wearing the same expression.

  “Hmm,” Allie murmured, noticing the way Sergei’s eyes latched onto Alex.

  Both men wore loose workout pants, and matching Thunder zip-up jackets over Thunder t-shirts. Sometimes Alex wondered if hockey players owned anything that wasn’t either branded or a suit.

  “Alex!” Sergei said in the loud, friendly voice he always used on the ice. “Have you met my friend and my backup tendie, James McVicker?” He slapped Vicky on the back. The other goalie didn’t even flinch, obviously used to this loud side of Sergei.

  Not quite as tall and wide as Sergei, he was still a big guy. He was blandly handsome with shiny light brown hair, hazel eyes, a nose that had been broken a couple of times, and a blindingly white smile that spoke of more than one session of cosmetic dentistry. Some of the guys in the league had more fake teeth than a six-year-old beauty queen.

  He was also painfully young. Alex put him at twenty-one, at the most. The six-year age difference between them felt like decades.

  Vicky and Sergei crowded into the bench area with Alex and Allie. Even without their gear, the two men took up a lot of space.

  “Call me Vicky,” he said, extending a hand to Alex.

  “I think I’ve seen you a few times with the team,” Alex said, shaking his hand. “But we haven’t officially met.”

  Vicky’s eyes flicked over to Allie with a smile.

  Alex realized that Sergei had never met Allie. With a hand on her back, he introduced her. “Allie, this is my friend Sergei—”

  “Oh, my God, Alex,” Allie said with a laugh. “I’m a huge hockey fan, of course I know who they are. It’s so nice to meet you both.” She tilted her head far back to look up at Sergei. “You’re even bigger in person.” Allie was barely five-three; Sergei towered almost a foot and a half over her.

  Alex rolled his eyes as Allie exchanged greetings with Vicky. “Allie is the mother of those two kids I was telling you about, Zane and Daisy. Remember?” He willed Sergei to figure out she was Charles’s wife without Alex having to say the name.

  Sergei’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head at Alex. Then his eyes widened as the realization hit him.

  Alex shook his head the smallest bit. They’d talk about it later.

  Vicky turned to Alex. “Pergs has been singing your praises for months. Said you made his game twice as good.”

  “That may be a bit of an exaggeration,” Alex admitted. Sergei had a habit of over—selling Alex’s abilities.

  Vicky pointed his chin at Alex’s chest where the Canadian Olympic Team patch rested. “You were at Sochi?” he asked.

  Alex nodded.

  Vicky’s smile made him a lot less nondescript. “Me, too. I thought your name sounded familiar. That place was a pit.”

  “That’s for sure. I think I remember you. You were on the American team.”

  “Go Team USA!” Vicky held out his fist for a bump. Alex obliged.

  “Alex,” Allie said with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have to go. I just want to say Merry Christmas.”

  On impulse, Alex threw his arms around her and gave her a tight hug. Her arms tightened around him, hands clenching in his jacket as if she had needed a hug for a while. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” Alex said to the top of her head.

  She reluctantly pulled away. The smile she gave Alex was probably the most genuine one he had ever seen on her. Now that he had something to compare it to, he could tell that most of her smiles were forced. Unless she was looking at her children, of course.

  Alex held up the Christmas bag. “Tell the kids I love their present so much. And maybe I’ll see them after the New Year?”

  “You definitely will,” Allie said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She waved at Vicky and Sergei. “Lovely to meet you. I wish we could have spoken longer.”

  “Maybe we’ll meet again,” Vicky said quickly with a flirty smile.

  She smiled back at him. “Maybe.” With one final wave, s
he walked away.

  “Allie!” Alex called at her retreating back.

  She stopped and turned back to him.

  “You deserve better!” he said.

  “I know,” she said with a smile. “So do you.”

  Stunned, Alex watched her walk away. Oh, yes. Charles was seriously going to regret underestimating that one. He made a note to call her after the holidays. Maybe there was some way he could help her. He shook off Sergei’s concerned look and turned to Vicky. “So, how can I help you?”

  “Sergei and the other guys have been singing your praises for a while now. And I’d like to be off the bench a little bit more, you know. No offense, big guy,” he said to Sergei.

  “None taken. You practice more, you listen to what Alex tells you, and you will be starting goalie soon.” He winked. “But on a different team maybe, no?”

  “I promise.” Vicky crossed his finger over his heart. “I know you got a couple more good years left in you. You’ll be around forever.”

  Sergei shot a glance over to Alex. “Even if I play longer than Jágr, I will not be playing forever. I think maybe there are other things to look forward to.”

  Alex looked away first. “Um, so, are you warmed up?” he asked McVicker.

  “Warmed and ready, coach. Where do you want me?”

  “Okay, then. Let me change my skates, and we can get started.”

  12

  Sergei

  “I still don’t believe you know anything about figure skating, Pergs,” Vicky said as he skated out onto the ice while Alex switched out his figure skates for his almost as well-worn hockey skates. “You don’t strike me as particularly graceful.”

  “Bite me,” Sergei said, one of the English phrases he had perfected early on. “I take figure skating lessons for years. I was nowhere near as good as Alex and other skaters.” He shook his head. “They work too hard. I am lazy goalie. Move back and forth, side to side. No jumping and spinning.”

  “So you learned figure skating like football players study ballet,” Vicky said, nodding in understanding.

  “I take ballet, too. Not as much as Alex.” He circled around Vicky until the kid struck out for open ice. Sergei didn’t blame Vicky for taking advantage of the space.

  They seldom had the time to enjoy skating for skating’s sake during the season. Even the half-sized synthetic ice rink in Sergei’s back yard sat unused most of the year.

  Sergei pushed away from the wall with a powerful backward thrust. He let his momentum carry him across the ice as he watched Alex lacing up his skate. Sergei gave a little spin. Though he’d been tending goal most of this life and had long-ago stopped noticing the weight of pads and guards and protectors, he did enjoy the infrequent opportunities he had to skate without all that gear. He felt light as a feather.

  Vicky seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to skate forward and backward for more than a couple of steps. He flew around the rink, powerful legs and long strides eating up the ice. Goalies didn’t have to be the fastest on the team, but they had their own strengths.

  Vicky came to a sharp stop next to Sergei and Alex. “So what’s your gig, Alex? What’s your specialty?”

  “I mostly concentrated on pairs.” He grabbed Sergei’s hands, quickly spinning them both around.

  Sergei whooped with laughter. When had they last skated together? Sergei couldn’t remember; it must have been years ago. That was definitely going to change. Maybe they could find some time after Christmas to check out the outdoor rink. It would be beautiful this time of year, with all the white lights and holiday decorations. Families skating with their children.

  Maybe he could change Alex’s mind about romance.

  Alex let go of one of Sergei’s hands and whipped him around, flinging him across the ice. Sergei’s booming laugh echoed in the high-ceilinged building. He threw himself into a tight forward scratch spin, twirling in place until he was almost dizzy. He was forgetting how to do the simplest things.

  Blinking his eyes, he skated back to the wall. Vicky clapped and hooted his appreciation. Alex stood with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head sadly.

  Sergei came to a slow stop in front of him. “Was terrible. I know.”

  Alex frowned. “Pathetic. Viktor Yanovich would be very disappointed in you,” he said, mentioning a skating coach they had both worked with in Moscow at different times. He wasn’t known for his patience. “You would be drilling until you dropped.” Something flickered in Alex’s eyes, and his light seemed to dim.

  Sergei knew the time in Moscow had been very tough on Alex he had only been fourteen and on his own.

  Alex turned to Vicky. “Did you know that male pair figure skaters are in short supply? The top-ranked girls practically have bidding wars over us. The girl’s family fronts all the costs: costumes, accommodations, flights.”

  Why did he sound so bitter when he said that? Sergei had been proud of Alex and impressed by how in demand he had been, but the way Alex said it made it sound like a bad thing.

  “Well, that sounds awesome,” McVicker said. “I’d like to have a bunch of hot figure skaters fighting over me and paying my way.”

  “I was twelve the first time I got paired up. My parents couldn’t afford to keep paying for me. My dad is a mechanic.” Alex shook his head. “Pimped out at twelve. That was the start of my illustrious career as a kept man.”

  What had brought this self-hatred on? Whatever it had been, Sergei needed to slap him out of it. “Alex,” Sergei snapped, “that is incorrect. You were paid to do something you loved. When I am with the Q, your family fed me, sheltered me. The club paid for my gear. Was I kept man, too?” Sergei didn’t give him time to answer. “No. Life is often not normal for children like we were.”

  Alex tilted his head and frowned slightly at Sergei. He looked as if he were concentrating on Sergei’s words, comparing them to the self-portrait in his head. If Sergei managed nothing else, one day he would get Alex to see himself as Sergei did.

  “Did you ever date one of them?” Vicky asked, surprising Sergei. He had almost forgotten the other man was there. Vicky rolled his eyes at himself. “Oh, sorry. Probably not, right?”

  Alex shot a glance at Sergei, the light beginning to come back in his eyes. “Why not?” Alex sounded genuinely perplexed, though he knew as well as Sergei what Vicky was implying. Almost every male figure skater was presumed to be gay, even though at least half of them, if not more, were straight.

  “Oh, man, totally wrong of me to make assumptions. I’m sorry. I mean, you could be bi, or pan.” His eyes darted to Sergei for help, but Sergei wasn’t giving away anything. “Or straight?” The furrow between his brows betrayed his skepticism.

  Sergei grinned at the kid’s painful sincerity.

  Alex broke into laughter. “No, you’re right.” Alex put a hand on his cocked hip and fluttered his eyelashes. “One hundred percent Canadian gay here.”

  Vicky nodded with his whole upper body. “Awesome.”

  Alex laughed and shook his head. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Nah, man. It’s not like that. I mean, you do you, you know? It’s all cool.” He blushed. “So, there must be a lot of guys to date in figure skating, right?” Vicky’s eyes sparkled.

  “You’d be surprised how homophobic the field is. Nobody is openly gay.”

  “Really?” Vicky looked confused. “How is that possible? I mean, just…”

  “Just look at them?” Alex finished for him.

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I know plenty of gay hockey dudes, but it’s easier for them to keep it under wraps.” Vicky shook his head. “Sucks, dude. Should be able to love who you want. Love is love, right?” He grinned his toothpaste-ad grin.

  “You’re adorable,” Alex said, smiling back. He clasped his hands together and looked at Sergei with big eyes. “Serhoya, can we keep him?”

  Sergei shook his head sadly. “No,” he said very seriously. “Baby goalies eat too much food and smell very bad.�
��

  Vicky’s eyes widened. “We? Are you two together?” He smacked Sergei on the arm. “Dude! You sneaky bastard. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Man, you play it close to the vest.”

  Sergei froze. They weren’t anything yet; it was much too early to label anything. He didn’t care if Vicky knew he was gay. He was by no means the only gay man on the team. His money was on Paul and Robbie not being able to hide their relationship for much longer. He knew his d-men, if those two weren’t sleeping together, he would eat his glove.

  Sergei didn’t know what would upset Alex more, if he said they were together or if he denied it, so he hesitated, probably giving more away than he meant to.

  Alex took pity on him. “Sergei and I have been friends for a very long time. I’m currently homeless, and he took me in out of the goodness of his heart.”

  Sergei was not having any of that. “I asked you to move in first day you move to Seattle. You say no. All the time you say no.”

  “I am not going to take advantage of you.”

  “I like my friend being with me.” Sergei was definitely not pouting.

  “I totally get that, dude,” Vicky said, clapping Sergei on the shoulder. “I’m sharing a place with Kaluk because we both hate living alone. Why be alone if you don’t have to, that’s what I say. So much better to have someone to hang out with.”

  Alex shooed them both away. “Enough talk. Get on the ice.”

  Alex took a few turns around the ice, his speed and grace taking Sergei’s breath away. That was nothing new. The first time he had seen little Alex skating, he had known he would go far. Even then, he had made Sergei feel huge and lumbering in comparison.

  Skating unencumbered might make Sergei feel as light as a feather, but Alex flew across the ice, as in his element as a bird in the air, only lightly tethered to the earth.

  He could see Alex smiling to himself, his attention turned completely inward as he skated to the music playing over the loudspeakers. The next sessions were starting, and people were trickling in. A few stopped to watch Alex skating.