Page 91 of Player Misconduct
“Alek—” I almost say his name out loud and catch it with my teeth.
He’s in a charcoal hoodie and a ball cap, hair doing that damp curl thing that makes my fingers itch to run them through it. He scans the room like he’s checking to see if his team got here first and lands on me, on us, at the same moment I’m trying not to stare.
For a second, everything freezes.
A stupid, traitorous part of me thinks: He’s here.
My flesh and blood symbol of safety standing in the doorway of this pizza parlor.
Another part: This is going to get messy.
He picks a line down the center, weaving through tables with that easy athlete awareness of space. I don’t miss the look he gives the room—measured, checking the exits, scanning for cell phone cameras. The easy go-lucky Aleksi that I’m used to is gone. Replaced by the competitive and protective Aleksi that makes my heart thump wildly every time he takes the ice, and steps in for me, like during a quarantine scare. When he reaches our table, he doesn’t look at Tarron first. He looks at me, a quick head-to-toe sweep that ends, inevitably, and warmly, on my belly.
“Hey,” he says, quietly.
“Hey.” I try to shape my mouth around casual and land somewhere near breathless.
“Aleksi,” Tarron says, standing like we’re about to shake hands before a ceremonial puck drop. “Grab a slice?”
Aleksi’s eyes flick to him, then back to me. The corner of his mouth lifts, but his jaw is tight. “I’m good. Thanks. I’m meeting some teammates.”
I glance around as they exchange words. Still no cameras peaking out of other booths. Which is good since this is how rumors are born: two athletes, one woman with a visible bump, and everyone desperate for a story.
Penelope would kill me.
Then the door jingles again and I see Trey and JP walk in. I exhale a breath of relief. They’re both peacemakers when needed on the ice, though they both have been known to throw a punch if they have to. Still, I feel better to see them walk in, more likely to defuse a situation than to make it worse.
Trey catches a glimpse of the situation first and slams JP's arm with the back of his hand as JP makes a move towards an open table. Then Trey points and doesn’t move. Now two of the Hawkeyes players are standing still, waiting to determine if they need to step in or take a seat and mind their own business.
“You needed a ride after?” Aleksi asks me, perfectly ordinary.
“That’s fine. I got her.” Tarron interjects, and then looks at me. “If you need a ride I can take care of you.”
“I think you’ve proven you can’t take care of her,” Akeski jumps in.
Tarron takes a step forward. “You don’t think I can take care of my wife?”
“She’s not your wife anymore. I suggest you remember that.”
In the corner of my eye Trey takes a step forward but I flag him to stop.
Down boy. I got this.
We don't need ex-military level bloodshed in this pizzeria.
“You two knock it off or we’re going to have to start selling tickets to this shit show. You’re going to make a scene and Penelope and Tucker Evans will have both of your asses,” I say in a harsh, yet hushed tone. “At this point, I’d rather walk home than go with either of you clowns.”
That finally gets both of their attention and their heads snap to look down at the woman half both of their size. Two giants and a little mouse with a baby bump. Their dick measuring contest about who gets to drive me home would maybe be considered comical if all of our career weren’t on the line.
“Kendall–” Aleksi says as if he’s about to explain himself.
I know what he was trying to do, and I appreciate it at some level. I’m sure seeing me with my ex was an unwelcome surprise, but he came over here and started it.
“Just go eat with the guys. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He doesn’t nod but the way he swallows hard tells me that he realizes he came in a little too hot and that I’m not exactly pleased with him. Then I turn to Tarron. “And you… our lunch is over and I think we’ve said everything we meant to say. I have a meeting with a neurologist to go over a few players. I need to get back to the rink.”
“I’ll see you later?” Aleksi says.
I nod and then Trey and JP, still standing at the doorway, make their move to meet Aleksi at an open booth in the back of the restaurant.
