Goalie Interference (NHL Scorpions) (3 page)

Vlad looked up at Jody with pure rage on his face. “No. I have not had too much to drink. I just tripped, got it?”

“Okay, yeah, if you’re sure.” Vlad hadn’t taken a drink other than the celebratory champagne all night. He gave him a hand, and Vlad limped toward his old car.

Almost four weeks went by before Vlad saw Zoe again. Training Camp had started; therefore, mandatory therapy sessions had started as well. He was looking forward to seeing her, even though he was reasonably sure she wasn’t feeling the same way.

Dalton “Cage” Booker, the backup goalie, was coming out of Zoe’s house as Vlad pulled up. “Hey, Impaler, how’s it hanging? Doc’s looking smokin’ today. Shame I can’t tap that.”

Vlad had been nicknamed “The Impaler” since, to his dismay, he shared his name with Vlad Dracula. He told anyone who asked, though, that it was because he had one of the best poke checks in the NHL.

Vlad gave Cage a jarring,
friendly
shove. “Don’t talk about her like that, you little shit. She takes her job seriously. Show some respect for her position.” Okay, maybe he was being a bit harsh, but Cage was one seriously annoying twenty-five year old kid. One of Cage’s problems was that he was entirely too attractive, and he knew it.

Cage widened his eyes a bit at Vlad’s reaction. “Dude, relax. Sorry, man. I should’ve known better since, well …”

Vlad crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Since, well, what? Care to elaborate?”

“Aw, come on, man. We all know you have it bad for the doc. I’m just saying I don’t blame you. She’s a hot little package. God, that ass, you know? Of course you know. Man, she bent over today, and all I could think about—”

Vlad grabbed Cage by his shirt, and pulled him close, just inches from his face. “Don’t finish that sentence, unless you don’t care about that pretty face of yours anymore.” Still holding onto him, Vlad took a deep breath to calm himself. “Try not to be late for practice again, can ya, Booker?” He had to get away from that kid or he was going to do something he would possibly regret. Giving him one last menacing look, he pushed him away, hard enough to cause Cage to stumble and walked past him.

As Cage caught himself, he said, “Yeah, okay. Later.”

Zoe was waiting at the door for him with half a smile on her face. “You don’t have to defend me, you know. I can handle snot-nosed kids like Cage. Come on in.”

Well, she’s speaking to me. That’s a good sign
, he thought, as he followed her into the house and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Vlad felt at home in Zoe’s house. He’d been there many times because of his relationship with Jody and Lacey. He could see how that would be difficult for most therapists, but Zoe maintained the two relationships separately with excellence.

“Help yourself to a beer, why don’t you?” Waving her hand toward the back of the house, she added, “You know the way.”

Vlad popped the lid off his beer bottle and walked back to the office. He plopped down in his typical seat and propped his legs up on the coffee table. At Zoe’s raised eyebrows, he put them back down on the floor with a mumbled apology.

Zoe took her seat, grabbing her notebook on the way. “Okay, Vlad, let’s talk. Tell me how you’re feeling about starting the new season. Any issues you’d like to discuss? Do you have anything that you want to talk about before delving into the world of hockey for another season?”

“Nope.”

“That’s it? No worries after coming off a Stanley Cup win? That’s all you have for today? I have to say, I’m not sure that’s going to be enough for my notes to the coach.” Zoe couldn’t tell the coach exactly what they spoke about, but she did need to give him a brief summary of the session.

“You want me to make something up? My only issue is one that you’re well aware of, and it’s not on the table for discussion per
your
rules. But hey, you want me to talk? Fine. I need advice on how to get this awesome woman to give me a chance. See, here’s the problem as I see it. She’s not willing to try and figure out a way to be with me, even though I know she’s crazy about me.” Vlad gave her a smile. “Who could blame her? I’m a pretty terrific guy.”

Zoe held her hand up. “Okay, stop. Vlad, please keep your personal feelings for me out of this. This is exactly why they don’t let me date any players. I want— no—I
need
to be able to do my job.”

Vlad stood up, knowing the session was a waste of time. Zoe would fill something in to appease the organization. “Fine. As usual, you’re right. If I ever need to talk about anything, you’ll be the first person I come to. I promise.” He walked over to her, put his hands on her face, and placed a kiss on her forehead. Looking into her eyes for a second, he sighed and left.

After Vlad left, Zoe continued to stand in her office, processing the feeling of his lips on her skin. Any time he touched her, she got the shivers. Plus, she had to admit that it was rather nice to see him reaming Cage out for talking about her like she was a sex object.

She knew Vlad had hopes of them getting together again. Yes, again. Right before Lacey moved out to San Diego to live with her, she and Vlad had a remarkable night together. She remembered every detail. Even then she knew it was wrong, but one thing led to another, and the next thing she knew it was morning. She hadn’t told another soul. Not even Lacey.

Vlad left Zoe’s feeling like he often did around her. Frustrated. He was glad he had an afternoon practice. There was nothing like a good, sweaty workout to get his mind off his troubles. When he was in the net, he didn’t have time to think of anything but stopping that six-ounce, frozen piece of rubber from getting past him.

Cage was in the locker room when Vlad walked in to get suited up. He made a quick exit to the rink, probably knowing Vlad still wanted to mop the floor with him. Vlad had always been a mentor to Cage, so he was sure it was obvious that he was less than pleased with the kid.

“Hey, Vlad, how’s it going? Feeling good?” Keith Lambert was the Scorpions’ captain and liked to make the rounds before practice. With over twenty guys in the room, it was easy for one person to get pissed at another—and people thought women were bad. Even though the coaches ran the practices, Keith wanted to know where their heads were. He wanted to know who was in the zone and who needed a little prodding to get their concentration on.

“Yeah, why? Did someone tell you I wasn’t? Because it’s not true, I’m fine.” It seemed like lately everyone wanted to know how he was feeling. He didn’t notice anyone else being grilled about how
they
were feeling all the time. His performance in the Stanley Cup finals last year was stellar. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I had one of the best records last year, you know.”

“Whoa, man. Where’s all this coming from? I didn’t mean I thought something was wrong with you; I’m just making my pre-practice rounds. I have to say, though, your reaction makes me wonder if there
is
something wrong. Anything you want to talk about?”

Vlad took a deep breath before answering Keith’s questions. “Sorry, Keith. I guess I’m a little on edge today. I had a little disagreement with Cage, and I’m coming from the doc’s. You know how much I love my therapy sessions. Don’t worry, I’ll get in the zone as soon as my blades hit the ice.” He really had to get a hold of himself. If he kept this up, people were going to get a little more than curious to find out if everything was as it should be with him.

Cage was too good of a goalie for Vlad to let his guard down. He could very easily lose his number one spot to that punk. He was man enough to admit that age played a factor in hockey.

Vlad strapped on his blue and silver goalie pads, grabbed his blocker and catching glove, and made his way to the ice. He passed Cage in the tunnel, speaking in low tones to Keith. He knew they were discussing him. “Everything okay here, boys?” Keith just nodded and led them out to the rink.

It was great to be back on the ice. The goals gleamed with their red posts and white netting. The lines and logo—a silver scorpion, tail curled in attack mode, clutching a hockey stick in its pinchers—had just been painted under the ice the previous week. It made a great tattoo, which Vlad had on his chest.

Skating over to his crease, Vlad took in the beauty of the freshly cleaned ice. It glistened, and he almost hated to ruin it. As he skated back and forth, shaving some of the ice off to make his crease a tad less slick, he could feel that ever present twitch in his hip. Hips and groin. Really important parts for a goalie to keep healthy, especially a butterfly goalie like him. Working through the pain was part of the job though, and after a couple of minutes, he no longer felt it.

The first game of the season was upon them, and emotions were running high. It was a rival match between the San Diego Scorpions and the San Jose Sharks. Vlad had gotten the nod and was the starting goalie. As he skated onto the ice for warm ups, Cage wished him luck.

Vlad couldn’t remember being as nervous as he was that night, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He’d been the starting goalie in many season openers. His numbers from the prior season were phenomenal, and his body twinges weren’t overly noticeable. What was his problem?

He didn’t think it was because Jody wasn’t there anymore. Jody had retired after they won the Cup in June so he would be around to help Lacey raise their baby. Even though Vlad missed having him near, he couldn’t imagine that led to his uneasiness. Jody had been the team’s enforcer and pretty much only played when they needed a physical presence on the ice, or to fill in for an injured player. Besides, Jody, Lacey, and Zoe were in the stands cheering the team on.

Vlad heard Brandon Marcoux, one of the Scorpions’ young left-wingers, shout his name right before a puck hit him square in the chest. “Vlad, heads up, man!” Brandon skirted around the net and flipped another puck at him which went in on Vlad’s glove side. “That’s what happens to a butterfly goalie! Watch your glove side.” He gave Vlad a wink and skated back to the red line to taunt the other team for a bit.

Vlad took a calming breath and squared himself in the net. Warm ups were coming to a close as he banged his stick side-to-side to feel where the posts were. He got in a half-bent stance and urged his teammates to give him all they had. They fired shots at him left and right. Brandon tried to sneak another one in on his glove side, directly above his left shoulder, but even though he had already started going down into the butterfly, at the last possible second, he committed a little left-handed larceny and stole the puck out of mid-air. Vlad gave him a shit-eating grin. “Ha! Fuck you, Marcoux! I still got it.”