Underneath It All (Storm Series) (30 page)

~
* ~

When
Rob woke up the next morning after nearly fifteen solid hours of sleep, he felt like a new man. He was rarely taken down by a cold more than a day or two—a perk of how well he took care of his body. After a shower that felt so good he considered taking another one immediately, he padded into the kitchen and demolished the remainder of the soup Alaina had left for him.

He glanced at the clock. Alaina would be at school by now. Yawning, he stretched then called Colby.

“Hey.”

“How ya feelin’, bud?”

“Way better. I thought I’d do some lifting.”

“That should be fine.
No cardio ‘til tomorrow though, okay?”

“Yeah.” Rob sighed. “I hate being sick.”

“Comes with the territory.”

“I know. I’m not even sure why
I felt so miserable with this one.”

He could almost see Colby shrug over the phone.
“Some vicious strains going through this winter.”

“Anyway, I’ll be
down in a bit.”

“Sounds good.
Find me when you’re done so I can take a look, and then I’ll send you on your merry way.”

They hung up and Rob
got his stuff together. A short time later, he’d been cleared by Colby and went to the weight room. A few of the guys were around and he shot the shit with them as he lifted. It felt good to finally be back in the fold, even if he wasn’t able to actually play yet. He left a few hours later feeling more positive than he had in a while that he’d be able to get back to where he’d been before the injury or even better, since the shoulder had been bothering him for a couple of years. Maybe the surgery would be a blessing in disguise.

He ate as soon as he got home then sat in his recliner, putting his feet up before dialing Alaina. She should’ve gotten home a little
while ago, even if she’d had a few errands to run.

“Hi, babe,” he said when she answered.

“Rob?”

Sitting up, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sick.”

Rob groaned. “Oh, no, honey. You caught my cold, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Usually you don’t get sick this fast after being around someone else who’s sick, but all my kids have had runny noses for weeks, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Have you eaten? Let me take care of you now.
Since I probably gave you the germs, the possibility of me getting sick is unlikely.”

“You do sound suspiciously healthy. What the hell?”

He laughed. “A nice side perk of my peak physical conditioning.”

“Whatever…”

“I’ll come over. What do you want for lunch?”

“Pizza,” she answered immediately.

“Pizza it is.”

“I love you.”

“And I love hearing you say that. But I also return that love. Be over soon, babe.”

“
’K.”

After calling for a pizza, Rob took a quick
shower then headed out the door. On the way to Alaina’s, he stopped to pick up lunch. When he arrived, he got her situated on the couch before sitting, trying not to stare at her while she ate. He wasn’t hungry, but since she didn’t have the TV on there wasn’t much to do. Rob was not good at being still. He liked motion, and after a few moments, he rose and went to the kitchen then quickly did the few dishes Alaina had.

He was drying his hands on a dish towel when the doorbell rang. Walking back into the living room, he motioned Alaina to
remain seated. The doorbell sounded again, and he muttered, “Keep your pants on,” as he opened the door.

Standing in front of him was some y
oung buck of a man who looked too slick for his own good. Leaning against the door frame and thus blocking the guy’s view of Alaina on the couch, Rob crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps, and said, “Kyle, I presume?”

The guy smiled, revealing ridiculously white teeth.
Trying a little too hard, aren’t ya, bud?
“The hockey player, I presume?”

His voice dripped with condescension
, and Rob heard Alaina mutter, “Oh boy.”

“
Oh boy” is right.
Who the fuck did this jerk-off think he was? The kid was taller than Rob by a couple of inches, but Rob easily had fifty pounds of pure muscle on him. Standing to his full height and drumming his fingers on the opposite arms while he flexed his biceps, Rob answered, “Yeah, the hockey player. Now, why don’t you take whatever you’ve brought
my
girlfriend back to your little hole and then go fuck yourself?” In a lower voice he was hoping Alaina couldn’t hear, he continued, “No way in hell you’ll ever be fucking her.”

He felt Alaina approach behind him and hoped that last crack hadn’t reached her e
ars. He hadn’t meant to go all alpha-male on this guy’s ass, but the dude’s tone couldn’t be ignored.

“Go home, Kyle,” Alaina said, scooting into the small space between Rob and the door.

Rob raised his voice once more. “And don’t ever plan on coming back.”

Kyle smirked. “We’ll see about that. A girl can only handle a Neanderthal for so long before she wants a man she can actually have a conversation with.” He tilted his head. “I bet you don’t e
ven know what Neanderthal means, do you?”

Does this asshole have a death wish?

Alaina pushed the rest of the way past Rob. “Let me handle this.” Poking Kyle square in the chest, she said, “Rob’s one of the smartest people I know and has the most generous heart I’ve ever had the pleasure of coming across. He isn’t stupid by any means, but he is strong, and if you keep insulting him, I might let him showcase that strength.”

“I’ll file charges if he fucking touches me.” Kyle’s face softened as he looked at Alaina, and Rob growled. “What’re you doing with this guy? You could do so much better.”

Rob’s temper was on a hair-trigger, but Alaina had asked him to let her handle the matter and he was trying his damndest to do that. He owed that respect to her, so he contented himself with glowering menacingly from behind his woman.

“You know what, Kyle? You’re an asshole. I defended you to him. I told him you were being nice, trying to
fit in. But you’re every bit the slimeball Rob said you were. Stay away from me, stay away from my classroom, and stay away from my kids, or I’ll report you so fast your fucking head will spin. You got me?” She began to cough, and Rob turned her into his chest.

He spoke directly to Kyle now
, “I think we’re done here. I even get a whiff that you’ve been sniffing around and I’ll make life real uncomfortable for you.”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d file charges if you touched me.”

Scoffing, Rob said, “Oh, I believe you. And I’m not gonna touch you. I know a lot of ways to make somebody’s life miserable.” With a cold smile he added, “Why do you think they call me ‘the Don’?” He was pretty sure he heard Alaina snicker, but she coughed again and he merely raised an eyebrow. “
Capice?
”

“Whatever, dude.” Kyle backed away though, not giving Rob his back until he’d approached the staircase several feet away.

Rob slammed the door shut. “That was actually kinda fun.”

Alaina moved back to the couch and sat heavily. “Thank you for letting me deal with him. I owe you an apology.”

He shook his head. “You owe me nothing.” Shrugging, he said, “I can’t really blame the guy for wanting you. That would be pretty hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” Rob walked over then squatted in front of her. “Promise me one thing. If he bothers you again, you’ll tell me.”

“I will. But I don’t want you going after him.”

“And risk a record for a dude like that?” He jerked his thumb toward the door. “So not worth it. Since I can’t get sick, let’s snuggle.”

“I’m disgusting, Rob. My nose is running
. I’m coughing and sneezing—”

“And yet I still love you. Imagine that.”

“Yeah, imagine that.”

“Also, remind me to never piss you off. That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear at someone like that.”

Alaina sighed. “I try not to swear at all, since if I do, it’s harder not to around the kids.”

“Good point. Now let me wrap my Neanderthal body around you and keep you warm.”

~ * ~

SEVEN
TEEN

Rob took a turn around the ice, as excited as a six-year-old on Christmas Day. If things went well at this pre-game skate, he’d be in the lineup against Boston that night. Jon would use him in a limited capacity until he got his sea—or game—legs back, but he’d be on the bench again—something he’d been dreaming about since November.

He’d promised Alaina under penalty of no sex
—a cruel, cruel threat, in his opinion—not to suit up if he didn’t feel right. In his heart of hearts he had to face that she was correct. If he returned to playing too early, he could cause even more damage, perhaps even career-threatening harm. But he’d felt good for the past week or so, really pushing his shoulder with contact in practice, and so far the joint had held up.

After the pre-game skate, he went to lunch with the team, as was custom, and then
returned home. He waited a few hours to see if his shoulder stiffened up or swelled, but neither happened, and when Rob returned to the Barn later that afternoon, a huge grin was plastered on his face.

Alaina had declined to attend the game
, even though he’d offered the two tickets each player got per game so she could bring Becca, but she’d said she was too nervous and wanted to watch at home. On the one hand, he was sad about that. He thrived on playing in front of the people he loved. But on the other hand, he might try to go too hard if she was in attendance, and plus, he could understand her nervousness. He’d spoken to his mother three times already within the past few days as she fretted over his return. In case Alaina changed her mind, he left her name at the “Will Call” window.

Sebastian was already at the arena, which wasn’t a surprise since he’d probably driven with Sarah. He was clad in spandex leggings and a Storm jacket and was working on his stick. Rob had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he approached. In all his years of hockey
, he hadn’t known many guys who fiddled with their sticks as much as his ex-roommate did.

Wisely waiting until Seb had turned off the blowtorch to speak, Rob
then said, “Hey, man.”

“Hey.” His friend offered his hand for a fist bump
. “You doing good? Will you play tonight?”

“I plan to.”

“I’m happy for you,
mon ami
. This has been a long time in coming.”

“Too long, but had to be done. I’m back in time for the push into the playoffs and hopefully a good run at the Cup, and that’s all that’s important.” They exchanged another fist bump and Rob said, “I’ll be back in a few to toss the soccer ball around. Gotta go check in with Colby and Jon.”

“I’ll be here.”

Glancing at Sebastian’s stick, Rob chuckled. “Yeah, somehow I don’t doubt that.”

He did his duty and talked to both the trainer and the head coach before heading into the locker room to change. Normally before a game, a bunch of the guys kicked a soccer ball around to get the juices flowing, and Rob couldn’t wait to get back into the routine. When he exited the room moments later, Jordan and Brendan were both bouncing tennis balls off the walls in the narrow hallway near Sarah’s office, and he left them alone, turning the opposite way until he was in a more open area. Sebastian hadn’t been at the stick machine when he’d walked by, and wasn’t here, where they usually warmed up. Had they changed locations?

Rob was about to do a scouting mission when Sebastian trotted up
from the general direction of Sarah’s office, his face flushed. At Rob’s raised eyebrow, he said, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Hey, you have your way to warm up and I have mine.”

Rob would never understand how a guy could have an orgasm then expect to perform at his peak a few hours later. But it worked for Sebastian. He and Sarah didn’t go at it—Rob shuddered—before every game, but often enough to give Rob sufficient data on which to base his conclusion on
. “Just as long as Jon never gets wind. Then you’re a dead man.”

“Let’s warm up.”

They began to kick the ball around, taking things easy, and soon, several other players joined them. Brendan walked by on his way to the bench for his Zen moment and none of them even spared him a second glance. Goaltenders were notoriously…unique, and they’d all learned long ago not to question anything either he or Jordan did. Brendan definitely had a stranger routine than Jordan, who tended to be easygoing until you got him in a game situation, and the team gave their All-Star starting goaltender a wide berth on game day.

Ben joined the game. “Coach says you’re fourth-lining tonight.”

Rick gave a whoop. “Reunited.” Though he’d like to reclaim his spot on the second line.

Ben centered Sebastian and Nikolai on the first line, and Rob
normally played wing on the second line, though he sometimes took a shift with Ben and Sebastian when the team needed more brawn than speed. Silently he prayed tonight would go well and in a game or two Jon would give him his spot back. A rookie was currently occupying the position and had to be expecting to be demoted. One of the perks of being a veteran was reclaiming your position after an injury without having to prove yourself all over again. Rob couldn’t slack, of course, but he’d already demonstrated his particular talents time after time. Jon trusted him.

A
fter five, the soccer game broke up and men dispersed to work on sticks, ride the bike, or whatever pre-game ritual they felt was necessary. Sebastian and Rob grabbed their sticks and a puck and went sliding out onto the ice in their sneakers. They’d done this before pretty much every game since Sebastian had joined the Storm roster for good last season.

“I missed this,” Sebastian admitted as he lobbed a pass to Rob.

“Me too.”

“Hey, how about you never get hurt again?”

“From your mouth to the hockey gods’ ears.”

Sebastian laughed. “Seriously, though, bud, I’m glad you’re back.”

“So am I, dude. So am I.”

Later, as Rob pulled on the various pieces of his uniform before finally settling his jersey over his head, he began to think about that night’s opponent. At first, Jon had been hesitant to allow Rob back in a game against Boston, a team known for its toughness, but Rob had argued doing so would be a good test of his shoulder. Jon had relented but had issued a warning similar to Alaina’s, minus the threat of no sex. Rob couldn’t even picture his coach having sex and shuddered.

The game, you moron. Focus on the game.

He sat in his stall, his hands clasped together, forearms resting on his thighs, and closed his eyes. Rick had already told him in no uncertain terms he’d take care of any fighting that needed to be done, but the idea of turtling if he was challenged didn’t sit well with Rob. Leaning his head from side to side, he cracked his neck, his eyes still closed. He pictured the different forwards, and then the opposing defensemen, before turning his attention to the goaltender.

He was still inside his own head wh
en the air in the room changed. Jon had arrived. Rob’s eyes popped open.

“Okay, fellas, this isn’t going to be easy,” Jon
warned them. Rob was aware the team had the tendency to let its collective attention wander at times and was glad he was back to help corral the energy of the guys. “Boston’s on a three-game winning streak, and they chased the starting goaltender for New Jersey after he let in four goals on six shots. They won 7-1 last night.” Fixing his icy stare at different points around the room, he continued, “These guys are feeling pretty good about themselves. What say we change that?”

The guys roared and rose from their seats for the traditional pre-game huddle. After that was completed
they stepped back and Jon pointed at Rob.

“I know, I know. I got
the message, coach.”

“
In any case, let me say this. You fight tonight without a damn fucking good reason and I’ll bench you. Clear?”

Rob wasn’t the team’s enforcer. Rick filled that role quite competently, but especially against certain teams
, Rob had a harder time keeping out of trouble. Boston was one of those teams, though Rob had every intention of being a good boy tonight.

As the time to
face-off drew closer, Rob’s right leg began to bounce, until finally, he got up and did laps around the hallway outside the locker room.

One of the guys from the broadcast team who normally did the on-ice and between-periods interviews gave him a wave. “Good luck ou
t there. Glad to see you back.”

Other than that
, the man left Rob alone and he was grateful. The guy had been a player himself not too many years ago and probably understood how Rob was about crawling out of his skin by now.

Players began to pour from the locker room
, and Ben took up his usual stance to bump gloves with each man as he went by. Rob took up a place next to him and did the same. Then the team skated out onto the ice for warm-ups. He immediately zeroed in on Marion Zenon, Boston’s resident pest and the mirror image of Rob’s role on the Storm. They acknowledged each other with barely concealed revulsion as they skated past each other.

Then
Rob grinned.
I love this shit.

When
warm-ups were over, Rob and the rest of the team went back to the locker room for any minor adjustments to equipment or uniforms that were needed before lining up once again to await their turn to emerge from the tunnel. This year’s “pump up the crowd” music and video began to play, and the fans, who had been relatively quiet during warm-ups, began to stomp their feet and chant, “Storm. Storm. Storm.” Rob soaked the atmosphere all in, closing his eyes for a second to thank whoever was up in the heavens for him getting healthy and back on the ice.

As the video and music played on, Brendan led the team onto the ice, and they took a few laps in the relative dark as the opening montage wound down. Then Rob and the others not slated to start the game
glided to the bench and remained standing for the national anthems, removing their helmets and depositing them on the end of their sticks. Buffalo, due to its proximity to Canada, was one of few cities in the NHL who did both the American and Canadian anthems no matter who was playing.

When the anthems
finally ended, Rob let out a whoop, which was echoed up and down the bench. Yeah, he was back.

Rick elbowed him.
“Feels good, eh?”

“Totally fucking awesome, dude. I never wanna do that again.” And with his contract with the Storm up after next year and heading into unrestricted free agency, he
had another reason to pray to stay healthy.

Ben’s line started the game against Boston’s top line, and though Ben won the
face-off, Boston’s top defensive forward swooped in and stole the puck from Nikolai. The Russian swore loudly—in English, the universal language of cussing—and gave chase. He took the puck back and quickly shoveled it to Ben, who passed to Sebastian, who was streaking down the right wing.

The entire team rose to their feet, straining to see over each other
. As Sebastian was being hauled down from behind, he got a shot off, and Rob shook his head in amazement. He’d never admit this to his friend’s face, but Sebastian was a pretty freaking-great hockey player.

Sebastian and the Boston defender went into the boards together, but Sebastian sprang back up immediately. A few seconds later
, Boston’s goaltender had frozen the puck and it was time for a line change. Rob sat once more, shaking his legs out. He didn’t expect to get more than six or seven minutes of playing time tonight, and he’d need to be careful to make sure his muscles didn’t grow cold and cramp up. Grabbing the bottle of bright green Gatorade in front of him, Rob shot some into his mouth. He wasn’t huge on the stuff, but considering he wasn’t in top game shape, it wasn’t a bad idea to bulk up on the electrolytes.

The second line, including the replacement rook, took the ice and Ben’s line sat. Sebastian leaned forward, grinning at R
ob, who sent his own grin back.

“Nothing better than this,” Sebastian called down the bench.

“Nothing.”

Soon the third line spilled onto the ice
, and Rob was pretty much vibrating.

“Calm down, man,” Rick told him. “Or you’re gonna go apeshit when you get out
on the ice.”

Rob glanced over at the man. “I know, I know. And no fighting. I remember.”

“No matter what that asswipe says to you, skate away. Let me handle him.” Rick smiled, but the expression was pure evil. “I think he’s scared of me. And if not, he will be.”

“Any sane man would be.”

Rick made what Rob referred to as his “crazy face,” and Rob laughed.

A few seconds later
Jon barked out “Mantell line.”

That was his cue. Phil Mantell, an older player probably retiring after this year, was
the center of the fourth line. Rob zeroed in on the left winger from the third line, since in hockey they’d change on the fly. The guy peeled off when the puck went into the offensive zone and sped toward Rob, signaling with his glove. When the guy got within a few feet, Rob jumped over the boards and charged to the opposite side of the ice, where the Boston defenseman was trying to corral a rolling puck to backhand it down the ice.