“It feels a little unconventional being here.”
“Why did you come?” The husky, caramel smoothness of his voice was back.
I quickly said, “Just so you know, I don’t date hockey players.”
He glanced at my mouth. “Message received.”
“Just so, you know…” I was flustered. “So… Just so you know. I’m your doctor. Today.”
He nodded. “Today, you’re my doctor.”
My face felt so hot.
“Do you want to play a card game?”
I laughed. “Doyouwant to play a card game?”
He laughed; a sexy, deep laugh. “No.”
We smiled at each other.
“Tell me why you don’t date hockey players.” He said softly.
I hardly knew this person. I wasn’t ready to share my past with him. “Why don’t you tell me why youplayhockey.”
He grinned and his eyes sparkled. He loved the game, obviously. The game on the television was still muted. He told me about his brothers - that John was a football player and Rand was an accountant.
“My mom couldn’t keep us contained. We were always rough-housing, and we just destroyed our rooms. She needed a way for us to get all our aggression out, so she put us all in hockey.”
“She thought you could slam each other up against the side boards of a rink instead of her coffee table?”
“Something like that. But she didn’t count on us getting even more battered and bruised.” He laced his fingers and rested his palms on his belly.
“My sisters and I sat still and looked pretty.”
“I’m sure I don’t believe that.” I giggled and he went on. “Rand didn’t care for the aggression of the game. He’s the youngest, and the smartest; more cerebral.”
“I’m sure I don’t believe that.”
He laughed and I scrunched up my nose at him.
“With John and I out of the house, Rand could focus on schoolwork without getting beat up. And John and I could beat each other up without getting in trouble.”
“Brothers are fascinating. My sisters and I would never think to get in a fist fight just because. When we fought, it was over one of us stealing a shirt or a dress. And then we wouldn’t talk for days. Brothers are back to being best friends minutes later.”
“I loved spending time with John, but it soon became really clear that his heart wasn’t in it and he quit to play rugby, and then eventually football.”
“You loved it.”
“I love it.” His eyes held mine. “I love the cold smell of the rink, the quiet mornings, the sound of my blades on the ice.” His voice softened. “I love the intimacy of the rink with the fans, they can get so close. They are right there behind the plexiglass. You can feel their energy. You can see them screaming for you. You canhearthem screaming for you.”
I lay down on my side, tucking the hospital pillow under my head. I lay my left hand on the pillow and rested my right check on it.
I knew what he was talking about. I’d felt the same way when I had the privilege of getting game tickets. The rush I’d felt trying to keep up with the puck. The adrenaline that would spike when the puck hit the boards, or the plexiglass. Even though I knew the puck wouldn’t hit me, the force of the slam was deafening. And it would ultimately be followed by two or three players slamming up against the boards, fighting for the puck with the stick.
“I imagine that must be something pretty special.”
He nodded. “It’s something pretty special.”