Page 9 of Heat It Up (Off the Ice)
“I’m fine.”
She shifts the hose away from the ringleader, so it faces the corner, then turns the water on. It bursts out the nozzle in a high-pressure stream, much like when she accidentally hit me the other day.
The guys wisely back away. The ringleader glares at me before the three of them leave. As soon as their backs are turned, Sofia slouches and the hand holding the hose starts shaking, the adrenalin aftershock kicking in.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Those are the jerks I was telling you about.”
I place my hand on her upper arm, needing to do whatever I can to make her feel grounded, make her feel safe. “Are you almost finished for the day?” I want to talk to her but not here. Not when the sauna is so goddamn hot. Sweat trickles down my back and I’ve only been in here a few minutes.
“I just have to finish up in here then hit the shower,” she says.
“Do you want to go get a coffee after you’re done?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and I’m beginning to think she’s going to say no. “Okay. I should be ready in about twenty-five minutes. Is that all right?”
• • •
I wait for Sofia outside the main entrance. The door opens for the hundredth time and the blond receptionist steps out. She spots me waiting on the bottom step and her face lights up.
“Hi,” she says. “I did not realize you were waiting for me. I would have been quicker if I had known.”
My lips twitch into an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m waiting for someone else.”
The main door opens and Sofia exits wearing a yellow sundress. I turn back to the other girl, but she’s already gone.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Sofia says once she reaches the second to last step. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner that’s pretty good.”
“So, how come you’re in Finland?” I ask as we stroll along the sidewalk. People bustle past us, rushing to catch their bus home or rushing to the train station. My leg stiffens, a combination of pushing myself hard at the gym and trying to keep up with the boys while skating. None of them know about my injury, and I want to keep it that way. It will only make me look weak in their eyes.
“My university offers an overseas work-exchange program,” she explains. “So I signed up for it.”
“But why Finland?”
“My mother’s from here. So I’m staying with my grandmother in Vantaa, which is a town outside of Helsinki. What about you?”
“The uncle of one of my friends has a summer camp here for boys. Nik, the blond guy with me the other day, asked if I could help out after one of the coaches had to drop out.”
“What kind of camp?”
“Hockey.” I watch for recognition on her face that she knows who I am. I’m hoping she doesn’t. I’m hoping that she’s not another puck bunny who’s only interested in me because I played in the NHL.
A light blush hits her cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t really watch hockey. It’s kind of sad, really. I’m an athletic training major but I don’t watch much sports, except for maybe when the Olympics are on. Do you play or just coach?”
“I used to play. I don’t anymore.” I try to ignore the pain wrapping around my heart at the words and at how much I miss playing, but it’s as strong as the pain in my leg.
“Because of what happened to your leg?”
So she does know about the accident. Which means she also knows who I am, or at least who I was. It shouldn’t bother me but it does. As strange as it sounds, I wanted her to be oblivious to my past.
I nod.
“How old were you when you injured it?”
For a moment I have no idea what she’s talking about. And then I remember. I told her my leg has a tendency to stiffen because of a childhood accident.
It wasn’t a complete lie. When I was ten, I fell out of a tree and broke my leg. But it didn’t end my hockey career.
“Ten,” I say, “but it’s something I don’t like discussing.”
