Page 103 of Pucking Around

Novikov snatches up his phone and the volume of the rock music cuts in half.

“What’s up, Sanny?” one of the guys calls.

“Whoa, Hot Doc in the lock!” another shouts, and then the room is full of hoots and hollers.

I roll my eyes. It’s so close to game time that they’re all wearing layers of moisture-wicking undershirts, jocks, kneepads, hockey shorts, socks, chest protectors, jerseys. The only peep show I’m getting is their fingers—and even some of those are already stuffed into gloves.

“What’s up, Doc?” Sully calls, which makes half the guys burst into more laughter.

Caleb snatches up a plastic box and calls out, “Alright, everyone pay up! Give the Doc back her athletic tape.Now.”

Grumbles and groans filter around the room as the guys shift.

“Do it, or I won’t wash your practice towels for a week,” he barks. “Things are about to get really musty up in here, fellas!”

As one, the room moves, the guys digging in their bags or reaching on their shelves to grab their athletic tape. Caleb does a circuit of the room, letting the stolen tape rattle into the plastic bin. I shake my head, lips pursed in annoyance, as even Jake shrugs and tosses a roll of tape in. It seems the only one whodidn’tsteal from my bag is Ilmari.

Caleb brings me the bin with a smirk. “And that’s how it’s done. Got anything to add, Doc?”

I glance at him, and he gestures with his eyes over his shoulder at the crowded locker room.

Oh, right. Establish dominance. Hockey boys follow strong leadership.

Clearing my throat, I snatch the bin from Caleb. “Right, so listen up! The next guy who steals from my medical bag is gonna get a courtesy tape job. Teddy here is gonna mummify your cash and prizes with any tape you steal,” I say, jerking my thumb at the wide-eyed intern. “Your girls can have fun helping you rip it off after the game!”

The guys go wild, laughing and ribbing Teddy, whose cheeks promptly turns an adorable shade of salmon pink.

Caleb grins, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Come on, Hurricane. Lemme show you something.” He leads me out of the locker room and across the hall into equipment manager HQ. “This is a secret, okay? You tell any of the guys, and we’ll get a load of trash pandas in here stealing from us too.”

I raise a brow. “Not even Jake?”

“Especially not that asshole. I’d never get him out of here.” He points out a small black box labeled FIGURE SKATES.

I give him a scathing look but he just grins.

“Open it.”

I pop off the lid and gasp with delight. It’s packed full of snacks, and none of it is dietician approved: chocolate-dipped granola bars, teriyaki jerky sticks, candy bars, oatmeal pies. I’m legit about to cry. “Ohmygod.”

“Go crazy,” Caleb says, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “See you out there.”

We’refour minutes from the end of the second period and I’ve already dealt with a bleeding lip, and two gruesome body checks that took the guys down to the ice. They’re both okay, but they’ll be feeling it in the morning.

My eye can’t help but follow Jake as he darts up and down that ice. He’s a machine, working the puck out of the Rays’ defensive zone and shooting it down the ice. He’s been on the line with J-Lo a lot and they seem to work well together. Each time his shift is over, he sprints to the bench, barreling over the boards to rest and rehydrate.

I may as well be invisible to him right now, and I don’t mind. I love watching him in his element. His intensity is magnetic. He’s just so beautiful inside and out—

“No,no—cover him!” Jake yells, launching to his feet.

Oh shit.The Penguins are working the puck in front of the net. Ilmari drops down, pads flat against the ice. He’s sliding left and right as the players fight in front of him.

“Get it out!”

“Get the puck out!”

The whole bench is shouting as the Rays fight to get control of the puck. It’s madness. Snow is spraying in Ilmari’s face.

Shot on goal.