Page 119 of Pucking Around

I cross my arms over my chest. “What makes you think Mars Kinnunen wants to fuck me?”

He glances over at Jake and back to me. “Seriously? You’re serious right now? You want us to list it out for you? We’ve got a running list of like ten things. Your list is shorter than his, but it grows longer every day too.”

“Wait—you’rebothkeeping a list? Are you in on this?” I cry, looking at Jake.

“Well, yeah. We only talk about it all the time,” he says with a shrug.

“Look, guys. I’ve been helping him manage an injury, and that’s all. I want to take him to Cincinnati to see Dr. Halla. He’s a hip expert, and he can get us scans off the record. Scans that won’t have to go into any official NHL files.”

The guys share a long look, a novel’s worth of words passing between them.

It’s Jake who speaks first. “You’re helping himoffthe record? Isn’t that, like, illegal?”

I huff. “No one is going to jail for giving Ilmari an MRI.”

“But it’s not policy,” Caleb clarifies. “You’re hiding it from the team, from thecoaches, which could get you in serious trouble. It could get you fired, Rachel. It could get Mars released from his contract.”

I shrug. “Sometimes what’s in the best interest of the team isn’t always in the best interest of the player.”

Jake nods, his face solemn, while Caleb just gives me a look like he’s chewing on glass.

“Look, I swore to Mars that I would help him,” I explain. “No matter whether it’s the right thing for the team,he’smy patient. I don’t want his career ending before it has to.”

“Why do you care so much about Mars Kinnunen and his damn career?” Caleb says.

“Because I’m adamndoctor,” I snap back at him. “Do you really think for one second I wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to helpyouif you were the injured player on my table? Or you?” I add, spinning around to glare at Jake.

“How bad is it?” Jake murmurs.

I shake my head, setting my fork down, appetite gone. “We don’t know yet,” I admit. “Right now, it’s presenting like a groin pull. But I can’t treat him properly without scans, and he’s terrified to get them with the Finnish Olympic scouts on their way. This is his dream, guys,” I add, glancing between them. “Playing for Finland in the Olympics. His grandfather played, his father. This is his shot. I’m just trying to help him take it. Is my way the right way? Hell, if I know. But I’m following my heart here, and I’dreallyappreciate if you guys would back me up instead of tear me down.”

Slowly, Jake nods. “It’s good that you’re helping him, Seattle. Go to Cincy and get your scans.”

I smile at him with relief.

But next to me, a storm is still brewing. “That still doesn’t address the other thing,” Caleb mutters.

“What other thing?”

“The ‘Mars Kinnunen wants to fuck you with his Viking cock’ thing,” Jake supplies.

I suck in a breath, trying to control my spiraling emotions.

“Look, Seattle, you just gottatellus,” Jake urges. “What the hell is going on with you and Mars? I mean, you sit next to him on every flight, every bus ride.”

“Yeah, because hemakesme,” I counter. “You all made me move, remember?”

“When the team is on the ice, your eyes are on him half the time,” Caleb adds, his gaze obsidian.

“Because he’s been playing injured,and I’ve been terrified he’ll make it worse!”

Caleb shoves off his stool and moves away, circling around the other side of the island. Each step he takes is a chasm opening between us, tearing at my heart.

“He talks to you,” Jake goes on.

“He talks to Tomlin too! And Davidson and Coach Johnson. He talks toyouon the ice all the time, Jake. And you, Cay.”

Jake shakes his head. “That’s the job. When the job is done, he’s a total closed book. He opens for you, Seattle. Only you.”

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