Page 50 of Gloves Off

“Or if he ever gets to know you?—”

“Which he won’t.”

It’s easier this way,I said to her last year, when she realized I’m not the spoiled little princess Volkov thinks I am. When she realized I encourage his inaccurate image of me.

I find him on the ice, stretching. I wonder if his shoulder hurts tonight. I wonder how his ACL feels. I think about him calling me incompetent and anger surges inside me.

“He doesn’t get theprivilegeof knowing me, Darce. Guys like Volkov are a dime a dozen. They’re controlling, and they only care about themselves. I don’t care if he likes me. You know what’s a major red flag? When a guy doesn’t want a platonic relationship with a woman. It means he sees them as objects.”

“He’s friends with me.”

“I guess it’s just me, then.”

She studies me for a minute. “Sometimes I think you purposefully keep him at arm’s length because him knowing and rejecting the real you would hurt more.”

Heat rises on my face and I give her a bewildered look.

“No.” I shake my head, at a loss for words. “That’s not it.”

She shrugs.

“It’s not,” I insist.

“Okay.”

The game starts with a face-off at center ice, and I watch Volkov use his body as a weapon, knocking guys out of the way like bowling pins. The puck comes to our end of the rink and Volkov and a player from the other team collide. It’s loud, the glass and boards rattling with the impact, and my breath catches in my throat. That was his bad side, with the collarbone that didn’t heal right.

The player from the other team bounces off Volkov’s towering frame, and Volkov skates off like it never even happened.

He’s fine. See? He’s totally fine. He probably didn’t even feel that.

The game continues, and even though it’s been a while since I’ve watched one, I’m hooked. Hockey’s fast-paced, loud, and intense. Time flies, and I can’t look away. Volkov is so focused on the ice, so determined, and watching him skate hard, exert himself, and give it everything is weirdly fascinating.

It’s the fighting I don’t like. It’s the players getting hurt that makes me feel sick. I’m a doctor. Of course I don’t like that stuff.

“Go, go, go,” Darcy murmurs later as Volkov passes to Hayden. An opening appears in front of the net, and Hayden shoots the puck.

He scores, and the arena erupts in noise. Darcy jumps to her feet, smiling and cheering. The guys celebrate before Hayden loops past us, blowing a kiss to Darcy, looking goofy with his gloves and helmet still on. Volkov’s right behind him, eyes on me.

He sends me an arrogant look.Well?

I give him an exaggerated thumbs-up and he scowls before skating off.

“You’re going to need to work on that,” Darcy says to me, grinning.

He does look good in his Storm uniform. Powerful and handsome. Not that I’d admit it out loud.

During the second period, the whistle blows for a penalty and the game stops.

“Hey, ladies.” Some guy from the row behind us leans forward, breath smelling like beer. Ew. “We’re from out of town and we’re going to a bar after. You two want to join us?”

There’s a knocking sound and we all turn to the glass, where Volkov stands, glaring at me, before his cold gaze slides to the drunk guy. He locks eyes with him and slowly shakes his head.

“Jesus,” the guy’s friend mutters. “That’s Volkov.”

The guy tenses. “Do you know him?” he asks me.

Darcy hides a smile as I give Volkov a flat look through the glass.

---