Page 137 of Pucking Around

He smirks like I’ve just given him a compliment. “So, I was right. You’re together, yes?” He nods like he already knows he’s right. “You’re good for him, Price. You’re evenly matched in stubbornness.”

“Don’t pretend to know me. Or him. I don’t know what you did to that man, but his sentiment seemed pretty clear. And I think I’ll have to echo it. You can go ski into a cunt!”

Not waiting for his response, I turn on my heel and shove on the door, racing out into the crisp October afternoon in search of my wayward goalie.

62

“Mars!” I race down the sidewalk in my heels.

I spot him almost instantly. He’s marching in the direction of the hotel, still gripping tight to both our bags. I should take it as a good sign that he hasn’t lobbed my bag into incoming traffic or hurled it down a dark alley.

“Ilmari, come on! Stop walking so damn fast!”

Of course, he doesn’t slow down. I hurry after him, regretting immensely my decision to change out of my flip-flops. Idiot Rachel of fifteen minutes ago thought it mattered to look professional. I wanted Doctor Halla to see me as a colleague, not his lowly resident. Yeah, well, this is what you get for trying: blisters on every toe.

I catch up to Ilmari in front of a dry cleaners. “Mars, stop!”

“Go away.”

“No—”

“I need to be alone,” he snaps. “Give me space—”

“Not until I’ve had my say.” I hold tight to his wrist and all but dig my literal heels into the sidewalk. “God, you are being such an Aries right now. You are literally dragging me! Will youstop?!”

With a growl, he spins around, towering over me as he glares down. “What? What message does he bid you bring me now?”

I blink, eyes wide, lips parted as I pant from the exertion of sprinting in heels. “What—no—” I hold tighter to his wrist. “Mars, fuck him. I just told him to go ski into a cunt. I don’t care about him.”

His expression flickers. “You did?”

“Of course, I did. Look, Mars,pleasebelieve me,” I say. “I had no idea. I swear to god, I reached out to him in good faith. We worked together for two years, but I didn’t even know he was Finnish. The man is a total closed book. That and the bridge of your nose might be the only things you have in common,” I add, gesturing to his nose with my free hand.

Ilmari just frowns at me. “Halla is Finnish, Rachel.”

I flap my free arm helplessly, still holding to his wrist in case he decides to bolt. “Well, you know Mars, I’m not exactly a walking lexicon of Finnish surnames. So, you’ll have to forgive me for missing that Scooby-Doo clue, okay?”

He just holds onto our bags, staring stoically down at me. But he’s not ranting in Finnish or running away, so I’ll take it as a win.

I inch closer, relaxing my hold on his wrist. “I swear to you, Ilmari. I brought you here because the Cincinnati Sport Clinic is one of the best in the nation for pro athlete hip injuries. Hate him if you want, but Doctor Halla is one of the best too. And I didnotknow he was your father. How could I?” I add with another helpless shrug. “If I did, I would haveneverconsented to this, Mars. I wouldn’t have even made you the offer. This is all kinds of unethical, and he knows it.”

Mars just shakes his head. “You’re saying he tricked you.”

“Yes.”

“He used you to get to me.”

“Yes. And he can go fuck himself.Hard. With a sandpaper dildo.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and I have to take my chance. I have to beg the universe to let him hear me. I step in a little closer, my hand sliding up his forearm.

“Mars, I wouldneverintentionally hurt you. And it’s not just because I’m a doctor and I took an oath,” I add, glancing up to hold his deep blue gaze. “I care about you, Ilmari. I don’t want to see you hurt. But whatever your history is with that man, he’s hurt you. Which means I’d like to see him torn apart. I don’t care that he helps other athletes on the regular. Your blood spilled is my blood spilled, and I will not let him hurt you again.Neveragain.”

He lets out a soft exhale, shoulders relaxing slightly. “But you want me to go back. That’s what you’re not saying.”

“This isn’t about what I want, Mars,” I say, dropping my hand away. “And thisdefinitelyisn’t about what that conniving jerk wants,” I add, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder. “If he wanted to reconcile with you, there are a million more ethical ways to go about it. Fuck him.”

He raises a blond brow at me. “But?”