Page 73 of Pucking Around

She scoffs. “I know your name: Ilmari Kinnunen. I know you’re Finnish. You’re a goalie in the NHL. I know your stats. But I don’t knowyou.”

I’ve never been good at this. Small talk. If there was a trophy for the smallest talk, I would win that every time. I talk so little that most guys assume I don’t understand English. Ignorant Americans. My English is better than theirs.

As if she can read my mind, the next words out of her mouth are, “You don’t like talking very much, do you?”

“No,” I reply.

She lets out a little laugh, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Okay, tell me the truth—how often do you pretend not to speak English just to get out of talking to people?”

I smirk, crossing my arms. “Often.”

I watch the motion of her throat as she swallows another sip of her drink. “Okay, so new game.”

“Game?”

“Yep.” She turns her shoulders, her dark eyes locked on me. They’re walnut brown with flecks of gold near the iris. “You have to ask me three questions.”

“I need to concentrate,” I mutter, dropping my gaze back to my phone.

“Ohhh, no you don’t.” She reaches out, covering my phone with her hand. “I’m not buying your ‘I gotta stay in the zone’ bullshit, Kinnunen. You played another shutout. Which was awesome, by the way,” she adds, nudging my shoulder. “I can respect that in the lead-up to your games you need to be in the zone. But now we’re flying home, and you won’t have another game for five whole days. You can stand to human with me for a bit.”

My mouth quirks. “Are you implying that I’m not human?”

She narrows those pretty brown eyes at me. “Undecided. Which is why I want you to ask me questions. Ask me anything you want, and I’ll answer.”

“I don’t have questions.”

Her smile falls and I suddenly feel like kicking myself. I was making her smile and now she’s not smiling anymore. “Can you not pretend that you care about anyone or anything other than hockey for five minutes?”

Her words sting. It’s not the first time someone has accused me of being too focused on my game. But you don’t get to my level by being complacent. Obsession is a necessity. Drive. Tenacity. They’re almost more important than natural skill on the ice.

“I’ve been watching you, you know,” she goes on. “You always keep to yourself.”

“Goalies have a different schedule.”

“You don’t go to their dinners either. You don’t participate in their group chats. There’s more to being a hockey player than the game, Mars.”

“And how would you know? You’re not in the group chat.”

“Hockey players are notoriously a chatty bunch. Present company excluded,” she adds. “They want to know you, Ilmari. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of this team. For the next few years, Jax is your home, and so are the Rays. Throw them a bone. Every once in a while, say yes to dinner.”

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, my elbow hitting the bulkhead. “Is this an official medical recommendation from my doctor?”

She laughs, taking another sip of her cola. “You know what, yeah, it is, actually. Because I think it’s unhealthy the way you keep yourself so isolated from the rest of the guys. Hockey is a team sport, Mars. And you don’t have to be a goalie all the time either,” she adds. “You’re so busy keeping pucks out of nets that I don’t think you realize you’re keeping everyone else out too. It might be nice for you to think of letting some of us in occasionally. Put down your stick, take off your blocker, and let us be nice to you…let us get to know you.”

“I’m a private person,” I reply. “I don’t know any other way.”

“I can appreciate that. I’m protective of my family, my private life. But I can’t just sit here trapped in your silence all season, Mars. I’m a chatty person, and I can’t sleep on planes. And I didn’t ask for this,” she adds, gesturing between us. “You’re making me sit here, even though you’d clearly prefer that I leap out the side—”

“I don’t want that,” I say quickly. My pulse races at the very idea of harm coming to her. I watched her trip down the aisle earlier and I acted without thought.

She stares at me. “Well…thanks for not wanting me to plummet to my death.”

I’m ruining this. Somehow, I’m making her madder at me.

“Here’s the deal, Kinnunen. Ask me three questions, alright? I’ll answer the questions, and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the flight. Deal?”

My heart is in my throat. I’m afraid to ask her questions. Talking seems to be making this worse, not better. Besides, my mind is a total blank. “And if I don’t?”

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