Page 3

CHAPTER 3

FROST

F rost wanted to go straight home after the game, which had been abandoned once they got Aiden off the ice. But all the other players wanted to go to the Railway Tavern, decompress together and celebrate Aiden being alive. As the oldest member of the team, they had nagged him and called him an old man until he agreed.

He nursed his pint of beer, taking a sip every few minutes as he listened to Star’s incessant chatter. She had been at the game. She saw everything happening with Aiden, but it didn’t seem to have affected her and she was acting like it was a normal evening.

Star nuzzled into his side, kissing his cheek constantly and running her hand through his hair. What the hell was she doing? She was usually affectionate with him, but not to this extent.

Peering around the table at his teammates, he realised why she was doing it: every single one of them had a woman sitting with them, showing them ‘affection’—also known as making out at the table.

Glancing down at his beer, he frowned. Had he ever been like that? He knew some of them were girlfriends, but the rest of the women had wandered over at various points in the last hour to chat with the players and were now draped all over them.

He grimaced. Yeah, he had definitely been like that, with a different girl after every game. He’d had a few longer-term relationships, but they never lasted beyond the end of the hockey season, and the cycle would begin again.

When he met Star, he thought maybe there was something long-term there, but now he knew there wasn’t.

She kissed him again, and he nearly flinched.

“Hold on, babe. I need to take a few shots for my reel.” Star pulled out her phone, her eyes darting around, looking for the best ‘content’ as she insisted on calling it.

“Not of the guys tonight,” he growled.

“Why not?” She pouted.

“Really?”

“Oh. The medical thing. You said he was fine.” Star waved her hand airily.

“Star, he was literally dead for a few minutes. I’m telling you, do not put any of the team on social media tonight. Do not put me on social media tonight.” Frost’s hand tightened around his pint glass.

“But babe, that’s what my audience wants. Real life. Real reactions.” She opened her camera app and lifted her phone to start taking photos.

Frost put his hand out and over the lens, gently pushing her hands down.

“What?” she demanded.

“Star. Please don’t take anyone’s photos,” he said more firmly, and this time it got through to her.

She pouted more but put her phone down. “Sure, babe. Anything for you.” Glancing around, she saw a waitress and began snapping her fingers at them. “Service. Service. Over here, service.” Her shrill voice rang through the room.

Frost cringed and tried to sit lower in the seat so no one would notice he was with Star while she was being so rude. But it was hard to be unnoticeable when you were six feet three inches and looked like you could run through a brick wall if you needed to, or more realistically, skate through other ice hockey players.

“Babe, she’s ignoring me. Get her for me.” Star squeezed his arm, her beautiful blue eyes looking up into his. It was once a look he wouldn’t have been able to resist, but now it did nothing for him.

Sighing in exasperation, he clambered to his feet.

“Babe, where are you going? Call for her.” She laid her perfectly manicured hand onto his arm and tried to tug him back down to her.

Frost pulled gently out of her grip. “She’s busy, I’ll go to the bar. What do you need?”

“I need something I can post if you won’t let me take any shots of the team. I need a fancy cocktail. Umbrellas are so unfashionable, but I think I can bring them back into fashion, so get an umbrella in it. And I prefer the look of short drinks in a martini glass. And colour-wise, it needs to be pink as that’s my aesthetic today.” Star smiled beautifully up at him.

Frost didn’t complain about her ridiculous demands, as these weren’t even the longest instructions he had been given in regard to a drink. Something that would cost him thirty bucks, and she wouldn’t even take a sip of. But she would take three million photos, and it would appear heavily on her feeds. Or TikTok or live something or other. It was exhausting trying to keep up.

She used to request he follow all her accounts so people knew she had a boyfriend, but he didn’t care about social media and had no desire to use it. In the end, he handed her his phone and told her to put all the social media accounts she had onto it for him to follow. Then, each evening, he gave his phone to her, and she went through everything she posted each day and made sure he liked it and commented on it so he would appear as a doting boyfriend.

It was another thing he found adorable at first, that she cared so much about him supporting her, but now it was a bit irritating. Some of her comments from his accounts were things he would never say in a million years. But he hadn’t objected to it at first and didn’t feel like he could now.

Standing at the bar, waiting to be served, his eyes wandered around the room, and he only just stopped himself from rolling them when he saw Star had her phone out again and was taking photos of herself. She would check the image, adjust her pose, and then take another one. Finally, she landed on one she liked. She smiled triumphantly, and her fingers began to fly over her phone as she posted the picture.

He didn’t try very hard to catch the barman’s attention, instead using the time to think about things. Aiden’s episode on the ice had shown him up close how short life could be and how things could change in the blink of an eye, and he had to plan a future.

This was his last season in pro hockey, and he should have already decided if he wanted to coach after he retired from playing, as doing nothing and living off his money would drive him completely insane.

Before he could think any more about it, his attention was caught by a familiar voice next to him, and he turned slightly to better eavesdrop on the conversation of the Doc and her friend, who had walked up to the bar and were now standing right next to him.

“Bloody hell, Sadie.” The Doc’s slight Aussie twang strengthened when she swore. “My head is already pounding. And my hand hurts from cutting it on the stupid ice.” She held her hand up to her friend, showing her the bandage across her palm. “I think I’ll be here for one drink, and then I need sleep.”

Frost glanced at them out of the corner of his eyes, so the friend was Sadie. If only he could remember what the hell the Doc’s name was. Maybe it was Mabel. Nope, that didn’t sound right.

He used the time to observe the Doc. She was about five foot eight, and she had a messy shock of curly red hair, which looked like she had been running her hands through it. She couldn’t have much makeup on, as there was a smattering of freckles visible across her nose. And her hazel eyes, while tired, were full of life.

He knew Star would say Doc’s hair was frizzy, then try and inform the Doc of all the hair care products she would need to tame it, and would probably make some bitchy comment that she was shocked someone of the Doc’s age wouldn’t know how to do her hair.

He had a bizarre urge to reach out and touch the messy curls but forced himself to remain still, as doing something like that would make him a serious creeper.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. That’s what happens when you smack your head on the ice. But after your heroic efforts tonight, Ethel, I insist you have one drink.” Sadie gestured to the bartender who was heading their way.

Frost knew he should make more of an effort to get Star her drink, but he found he was more interested in standing and listening to the conversation next to him.

Hang on a moment. Did Sadie say the Doc’s name was Ethel? And was that a growling sound coming from the Doc—aka Ethel.

“Call me Ethel again, and I’m declaring it a night now, and you’ll have to go home and do bedtime,” Doc threatened.

Right, so her name wasn’t Ethel? Was it a nickname?

“Oh god, bloody bedtime. I love my kids, but why does bedtime have to happen every night?” Sadie complained.

The barman made eye contact with Frost, but he shook his head and gestured for him to serve the women first.

“Ladies. What can I get you to drink?” The bartender interrupted Sadie’s ongoing lament about bedtime.

“Can we grab a bottle of the house pinot grigio, please,” Sadie asked. When the barman turned away, she looked over at Doc. “Ha, no bedtime for me. I got a bottle, so you have to stay.”

“You are very devious,” Doc grumbled.

“I know,” Sadie crowed.

“I’m sorry, ladies.” The bartender was back. “We’ve run out of the pinot grigio in this fridge. I’ll need to go out the back and grab some, which will take me a few minutes. Do you want to order something different? Or are you happy waiting?”

“We’ll wait,” Sadie instantly supplied.

Frost checked over his shoulder to see if Star had noticed he was gone, but she was now deep in conversation with a girl who looked very much like a Star wannabe. He imagined it was one of his girlfriend’s many followers on social media, who turned up everywhere they went because the minute they arrived somewhere, she would post a selfie and a location and call out for any ‘Star-lifers’ to come say hi.

He had asked her a few times to stop, but she pointed out it was her career, and she needed to keep on producing interesting content to attract more sponsors, so she needed the Star-lifers to help provide her with that.

“Tell me all about it,” Sadie said to Doc.

“What else can I tell you? The player arrested. I dashed onto the ice, fell over, and smacked my head so hard I blacked out for a moment. Next thing I know, a giant has picked me up and deposited me in front of a dead man. Who, thankfully, was in VF, and I shocked him out of it.” Doc shrugged.

Frost winced when he remembered seeing her fall. He had known it was bad, but in the chaos, no one thought to check on her. He hadn’t thought to check on her.

“Tell me about the giant?”

Frost heard the amusement in Sadie’s voice, and his heart pounded harder, wondering what Doc was going to say about him. He turned his head away so she wouldn’t realise that he was the giant, and he was listening in on their conversation very intently.

“Nothing to tell. He had a helmet on. I was on the way to an arrest. I didn’t pay much attention to him.”

“Really? No attention at all? A man literally swept you up into his arms like you weighed nothing.”

“Hey! I’m not big,” Doc exclaimed.

“I’m not saying you are.” Sadie soothed. “You’re about the same size as me, and I’m close to seventy kilos, so while we’re not big, we’re not exactly tiny waifs men swing up into their arms.”

Frost frowned, a little annoyed that someone would imply that Doc was anything but the perfect weight for her build, even if that someone appeared to be one of her best friends.

“I was dazed when it happened. I don’t think I gave him a hernia. From what I remember, it didn’t seem much effort, and he skated bloody fast. Then he helped me again as I walked off the ice. And do you know what my big mouth managed to say? To this very serious professional athlete, whose teammate had just died in front of him.”

“What did you say?” Sadie asked gleefully.

“I said, I didn’t want to eat shit again.”

Frost bit back a laugh. He had been pretty surprised when the phrase fell out of her mouth, he wasn’t used to being around a woman who swore quite so readily. Star was always maintaining her ‘brand’ and didn’t want anyone to become offended by her language, so she didn’t swear at all.

“And what did he say?” Sadie asked.

“That I was safe, and he had me.”

“That’s, well. I…” Sadie faltered, then quickly said, “Is he single?”

“Why would I know that?” Doc sounded affronted.

“Well, which one was it? Google will tell us.”

“He had an accent. It wasn’t Australian. He must have been the Canadian player, something or other Forster,” Doc supplied.

Frost’s brain started to whirl. If they Googled him, there would be a picture, and it would become clear who he was and that he was eavesdropping. He debated what to do, maybe walk off, maybe pretend he hadn’t heard, maybe—

He shocked himself when he said, “I’m not single.”

Both women turned to look at him, surprise clear on their faces. He locked gazes with the Doc and saw her eyes widen, with recognition sparking in them.

“Who are you?” Sadie finally asked when Doc didn’t say anything.

“Frost.” He held his hand out to Sadie.

She stared at him for a long moment before she took it and replied, “Sadie. And she’s Eth—“ Sadie giggled and stopped when Doc growled. “This is definitely not Ethel. This is Hel.” She gestured to Doc, who was glowering at her friend.

“Ethel?” Frost lifted an eyebrow in question.

“My parents have terrible taste in names, and if you even think about calling me Ethel, I’ll kneecap you. Which I’m guessing won’t be good for someone who is a professional athlete.” Hel smiled sweetly, and her gaze locked with Frosts.

They stood there staring at each other, and despite being very aware that his girlfriend was sitting behind him, waiting for him to bring her a ridiculous drink, he found he couldn’t look away from Hel. Didn’t want to look away from Hel.

“Frost.” Sadie broke the silence and nudged her friend with her elbow. “I assume you have an actual name and aren’t named after frozen water?”

Frost didn’t answer, only vaguely aware of the question as he watched Hel. She dropped her gaze to her shoes, which he noticed were flat and very different from the footwear Star teetered around in the whole time.

Hel cleared her throat nervously, but Frost didn’t look away. He kept watching her until a voice calling his name above the hubbub of the bar caught his attention.

“Frost, baby. Where’s my drink?” Star’s shrill voice pierced through his ears.

He glanced over at her and gestured he would be two minutes, knowing it would mollify her before he turned back to Hel and Sadie. But this time, he kept his eyes firmly off Hel.

What on earth had he been thinking? He had a girlfriend. Even in his wild days, he never overlapped his women. He would admit they occasionally came a little close and had once or twice been only a few hours apart. But he never overlapped and shouldn’t be staring at a woman when his girlfriend was right behind him.

“Frost is short for?” Sadie prompted.

“Jake Forster,” he drawled. “But when you play ice hockey for a living, with a name like that—“

Hel butted in, ‘They start calling you Jack Frost?”

“Yeah,” Frost agreed.

He had initially despised the name and thrown punches every time people called him it. But like all good nicknames, it took on a life of its own, and now a lot of people assumed he was called Frost Forster, which was quite frankly bizarre. Who would name a kid that?

Hel chuckled, which lit up her face, her hazel eyes sparkling.

Frost was desperate to talk to her some more, but the barman arrived back with their wine.

“Sorry for the delay, ladies. Here’s your wine. And how many glasses do you need?”

Sadie glanced at Frost, “Did you want some wine?”

He shook his head, he wasn’t a big fan of wine. “No thanks.”

“Three glasses, please,” Sadie requested.

“Why do we need three glasses?” Hel questioned.

“I texted Clara. She’s coming too.” Sadie looked over at Frost and explained, even though he hadn’t asked. “She’s another doctor.”

“Cash or card, ladies?” The barman enquired as he placed the glasses on the bar.

Before either of the women could speak, Frost said, “I’ll pay. And can I have a pint of the IPA and the most ridiculous-looking pink cocktail you have. I don’t care what it tastes like, it just needs to be in a martini glass.”

“You can’t buy us wine. You don’t know us.” Hel shook her head.

“You saved Aiden’s life. I can buy you a drink. And you should come and sit with us. The boys will want to thank you as well.” Frost gritted his teeth, knowing with Star being there, he wouldn’t get to speak to Hel, and that was all he wanted to do.