Page 8

CHAPTER 8

FROST

F rost sagged with relief when Hel gave them the news about Aiden, and when she stepped aside for Coach Morgan to give them their regular pre-game chat, he tried to concentrate, but instead, he spent most of the time studying Hel.

She appeared to have no problem with looking at the other players while resolutely ignoring him.

Finally, she met his gaze, and they stared at each other. He bit back a smile when he saw a faint blush rise up her cheeks, liking the effect he had on her. Maybe after the game, he could ask her out for a drink and get to know her better.

Nope, he couldn’t do that. He still hadn’t broken up with Star. In his own mind, their relationship was over, and with her being away for the week, it felt like he had already done it.

He dropped his gaze. He needed to break up with Star before he tried to get to know Hel.

“Right boys, play your best tonight.” Coach Morgan finished his speech and began banging on the door behind him.

The rest of the players soon joined in, some banging the lockers, some the benches, and others stomping. The beat got faster and faster until they finished with a resounding cheer.

Frost grabbed his stick, ready to head for the ice, and took a last look over at Hel. His shoulder slumped a little when he saw she wasn’t there anymore.

Shaking himself, he put the thoughts of the pretty red-headed doctor to the back of his mind, and his gaze fell on Greg, the cameraman, lurking in the corner like he always did. The man was excellent at his job, and most of the time, Frost totally forgot he was there, which made it likely there was now footage of him staring at Hel, when he supposedly had a girlfriend. He sighed and dropped his eyes to his stick.

As they made their way out to the ice, Greg jogged along beside him. Getting some close-up shots of him and asking a couple of simple questions, which he did every time they were about to play.

“How are your chances of winning today?” Greg asked.

“We’ll win,” Frost replied confidently.

“How do you feel about facing Jax Cooper on the ice?”

Frost hesitated for a moment. He had almost managed to forget his long-time ‘nemesis’ was playing for the opposition. Jax was an Australian player who had never forgiven him when Frost had been given what the man perceived as ‘his spot’ in the first pair while they played for the Vancouver Vultures.

Despite being teammates, Jax had never missed the opportunity to try and sabotage him. Dangerous hits, ramming and tripping him in practice, then bad-mouthing him to other members of the team and the coaching staff.

For the two years they played together, things had been ‘unpleasant’ for Frost. He had been relieved when Jax had been dropped from the team entirely and made his way back to Australia.

“I don’t feel anything about him. He was my teammate for two years. We were never friends, but you aren’t always on a team.” Frost had received extensive media training and was excellent at evading answering questions.

“There were a lot of reports about tension between you two,” Greg pushed.

“There was no tension from me,” Frost replied truthfully.

He knew exactly what Jax had been trying to do: make him retaliate, make him fail so he could take his first-pair position back. But Frost had always been single-minded and didn’t let Jax affect what he wanted to do, which was play ice hockey in the first pair in the NHL.

When they got to the boards, Frost waved to Greg and skated onto the ice. He was relieved to be leaving awkward questions behind as he flew around the rink, the place where he felt most at home. He adored the cheer of the crowd, the smell of the ice and the slick surface under his blades.

He waved his hand in acknowledgement of the crowd, who roared and stamped, filling the whole arena with a wall of sound. As he passed the team bench, he glanced over to see Hel checking through the medical bag. He stared, hoping she would look up, but she didn’t, and he skated on by.

That was the last time he was going to allow himself to look at her during the game. From now on, he would be all business.

The game was brutal from the start. The Adelaide Echidnas weren’t as skilled as the Burra Wombats, but they weren’t afraid to play dirty. Waiting for the referee to be distracted, then chopping at legs, hitting with high sticks and basically doing everything they could to upset the home team.

Jax sneered at Frost every time he came near, getting too close, shoving him, and insulting him. But Frost ignored the other player, although some of his teammates didn’t and ended up in the penalty box as Jax smirked at them.

When the second intermission came, the Wombats were winning four-two, but those four goals had been hard won. Frost’s body was tired, and he felt now at second intermission how he used to feel after full-time—not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

He perked up a little when he spotted some of the younger guys wincing in pain as they moved; it wasn’t just him who was hurting. It was a brutal game, and he guessed a lot of them were going to be black and blue the next day.

In the locker room, Hel was waiting for them, having set up a station to wrap any joints that needed extra support. He checked himself over, testing his right shoulder, which occasionally gave him problems after he dislocated it ten years ago, but it felt surprisingly good despite the aches elsewhere. So he had no reason to go and talk to her.

He sat by his locker, only glancing over once to see Rocky approach Hel, pointing at his elbow. Frost had asked the younger man what he had done, as his elbow often gave him trouble. Rocky initially told him he broke it the previous season, which made Frost assume it was during a game. The younger player later admitted he had been trying a trick on his nephew’s skateboard and fell off. This made Coach Morgan very, very unhappy, as Rocky had been out for the rest of the season.

Hel touched Rocky’s elbow, and a wash of jealous heat spread over him. Frost nearly stood up but stopped himself. What on earth was he thinking? He had met her twice, and she was touching Rocky’s elbow. And even if it wasn’t just his elbow, it was absolutely none of his concern. And that was the problem, he was concerned. He wanted to be the one talking to her, he wanted to be the one having his arm examined.

Putting his head down in his hands, he raked his fingers through his hair. What was wrong with him? He had a girlfriend until he broke up with her. He needed to stop staring at Hel.

Frost made a concerted effort to get his head back into the game, running through plays and calming his racing heart. He didn’t look up again until it was time to go back onto the ice, and this time, he didn’t let his eyes look for her, he kept them fixed on his teammates.

Frost knew Jax was on his shoulder as he skated. Rocky passed the puck to him. His stick met it with precision, and he put on another burst of speed. The ice ahead of him was clear, and rather than pass the puck off to one of the forwards, he ploughed ahead. Shooting for the goal, he watched the puck as it evaded the goalkeeper’s reach and sailed into the corner of the net.

Before he could celebrate his goal, his world tilted as his legs were pulled out from under him by a hockey stick and at the same time, Jax collided with him at full speed, sending them both to the ice, with the other player landing hard on top of him.

Frost’s head hit the ice with a resounding thump, stunning him. His ears rang, and blackness invaded the corner of his vision. Lying there, he felt Jax climb off him. He saw the other man lean over him and shout something, but he couldn’t hear the words. He did feel it though, when Jax smacked his stick into his ribs.

He turned his head to see Jax get pushed by Rocky, who wasn’t happy about the dirty hit Frost had received, and he knew it was going to descend into chaos.

Frost debated for a moment lying on the ice and letting the medics come and cart him off. Maybe Hel would come onto the rink to look at him.

No, that was ridiculous, he couldn’t lie here for attention. He was a professional athlete, he had taken hits before, and he needed to stand up. Pushing up to a sitting position, he observed his teammates battle it out on the ice with the Echidnas as the referee desperately tried to stop it.

Frost tried to stand, and his left leg immediately screamed with pain, and he dropped back down to a sitting position. Shit, that wasn’t good. He reached down and pushed on his lower leg, nearly blacking out when a wave of pain washed over him. His stomach rolled, and he panted for breath. This was not good at all.

As the adrenaline from the fall died down, the amplitude of the pain ramped up until he couldn’t sit anymore. He lay back down on the ice, breathing deeply and willing the pain to retreat and for nothing to be wrong with his leg. But it didn’t, agony consumed him.

Staring up at the ceiling of the ice rink, he let the sounds of his team, the roar of the crowd, and the smell of the ice wash over him. The cold, which he usually didn’t notice as he was never still for long enough, began to creep through his uniform. He puffed out a breath and watched with fascination as it condensed in the air.

Frost’s awareness drew inside his body, and all he was now was pain.

“Frost?” Rocky leaned over him.

Frost tilted his head to look at the other player but didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” Rocky dropped to his knees next to Frost, panic lacing his voice.

More of the team gathered, and he heard Jax’s words rise above them all. “He’s fine. He’s being dramatic. He’s—“

He was abruptly cut off by the sound of flesh hitting bone, and Frost assumed one of his teammates had given him a punch for his snarky words.

“We need Hel,” Rocky called out.

Frost felt him turn away, then bellow.

“Coach, Hel. Frost’s hurt. Get out here.” Rocky waved his arm.

He rotated his head to the side to watch Hel make her way onto the ice. Despite the pain coursing through him, he was concerned she would fall again. When she stepped onto the ice, Steve, the assistant coach, grabbed her arm and supported her.

That was good, he wasn’t going to be able to stop her from ‘eating shit’—he chuckled internally at the turn of phrase she had used when she fell.

He would have turned away, but that would have taken energy, so he watched as she carefully made her way to him. Noticing that the bright lights of the arena made her hair glint with fire. He wanted to reach out and run his hand through the halo of glowing strands surrounding her head. But that involved moving, and right now, his whole world was focused on not moving.

Hel dropped to her knees right next to him and put her bag down. “Frost. Can you hear me?”

Frost blinked at her a couple of times.

“Frost?” She tried again, putting her hand on his arm.

“Yes,” he croaked the words out.

“Did you hit your head?” She reached over and undid the chin strap of his helmet.

Frost tried to move his head, but she placed a hand on either side of his helmet to stop him, kneeling up and leaning over him so he couldn’t move.

“It’s not my neck.” Frost managed to say.

He did not want to go into a neck collar. He had been put in one before after an injury and hadn’t enjoyed the experience of the tight collar constricting around his throat.

“Leg. Left,” he ground out.

She was so close to him and looking straight down at him, her breath tickling his face. Her eyes held his for a long moment, and he let himself stare at them, taking in the golden flecks in her hazel irises. Finally, she let go of his helmet.

Frost felt colder when she leaned away from him.

“I’m going to look at your leg, okay?” she said softly.

Frost dipped his head, the few words he had managed to say had exhausted him.

When she touched his left leg, pain rolled up his body in a throbbing wave.

“Stop.” He couldn’t prevent the gasped words from escaping.

She pulled her hands away from him. “No worries. I’m going to cut your pant leg. I need to see what’s going on.”

She said no worries, but Frost heard the worry tinging her voice.

He didn’t answer but managed a small nod of his head.

Hel rifled through her bag for a minute before pulling out a large pair of black-handled, curved scissors. She made short work of slicing through the leg of his pants.

He heard her suck in a breath as she looked at his leg. Frost knew that couldn’t be good.

“Frost. Your leg’s broken.”

“Yeah.” He had figured that out for himself from the pain.

“It’s a nasty break. The bones sticking out through the skin.” Hel’s eyes were clouded with concern.

Frost blinked. Well, that didn’t sound good. He tried to sit up to have a look at his leg, but waves of pain rolled over him, and he collapsed back down.

Hel turned away from him, speaking to someone he couldn’t see. “Can you get the stretcher out here and make sure they’re calling an ambulance.”

“It feels like my leg is on fire,” Frost muttered hazily.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised. Hang on.” She reached down to the medical bag and dug through it again. “Are you allergic to anything?” She pulled out a green tube.

“No.”

“Great. This thing is called the ‘green whistle’. It’ll help with the pain. Breathe in and out through it.” She put the tube to his lips. “Breathe.”

Frost took a deep inhale through it, and a wave of dizzy numbness washed over him. It didn’t really help with the pain, it just made him so drowsy he didn’t care. He took another deep inhale.

“Great. Keep breathing on that. Frost, I’m going to support your leg while we move you onto the stretcher. I’m not going to lie to you. It’s going to hurt.”

Frost took another deep inhale and nodded. His whole world had shrunk. Now all he could feel was pain, and all he could hear was her voice keeping him grounded and stopping him from floating away.

“We’re going to move you onto the stretcher, okay?” Hel told him.

Frost felt many hands touching him as his teammates got ready to lift him. He felt colder when Hel moved away from his side and shivered. The chill seeped into his core, which had never happened to him before. But he thought, he usually didn’t have bones that should be on the inside sticking out on the outside.

“Frost. Are you ready?” Hel’s voice broke through his musing, and he shook his head. He knew it was going to hurt, and he wasn’t ready for it. “Well, tough. We’re doing it anyway.”

He cracked a smile and took another big puff on the green whistle, then clenched his teeth, bracing himself for them moving him.

Hel said, “Okay. We’re moving on three. One, two, three.”

Blinding pain ripped through him, and his vision went white around the edges, this was so much worse than he had expected.