Page 7

alex

I could listen to her talk all day. I was leaning over the counter, mesmerized by the words spilling out of her mouth like it was the sweetest song I’d ever heard.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this focused on something aside from hockey in my entire life.

She was my captain’s wife and would always remain that, but the way she spoke was so gentle and delicate.

“She had me when she was out here, so I have my citizenship.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if they’ll visit. They want the best for me.”

“And by marrying you off, that’s the best option?” That came out meaner than I’d intended. “Sorry. That didn’t land well. I’m just trying to gauge their point of view.”

She frowned. “I’ve seen a lot of my colleagues think they’ll go into coaching or something else in the field, but it’s always a dead end. There are only so many coaches for so many professional skaters. My parents want me to reach my maximum potential and retire on my terms.”

I shook my head and pulled away from the counter. “That sucks.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

“But you’re an Olympic athlete. That must mean something.”

She pulled on her lower lip. “No. There are so many of us out here.” Anastasia straightened her shoulders, and I wondered if she knew how obvious her inside thoughts were to me. She was so clearly uncomfortable. It was as if her spiraling thoughts were audible. “I’m very grateful for Dimitri.”

That response felt like it was something you’d tell the press at a conference, not someone whose door you were dropping off cookies to.

I took a bite of her cookie and pulled it away from my mouth as I laughed. “I hate sweets,” I said.

She looked down at the treat in my hand, and climbed off the chair.

I reached out, my fingers grazing the top of her hand, and shook my head. “I hated sweets until I tried these. They’re really good.”

She giggled and settled back on her stool, brushing her soft blonde locks off her shoulder. “I’m terrible at baking, but I’m trying to learn to be a good wife.”

“You can be a good wife without cooking or baking or being domesticated.”

She shook her head. “My mom said I needed to learn these skills, so I am.”

I was obviously at her wall, one that she’d erected to protect herself, and it was made of stone. I didn’t have the right tools to break it down, so there was no point in pushing.

“No girlfriend for you?” she asked softly, but her cheeks reddened.

“Nope. As a matter of fact, I prefer the sample platter,” I said.

Milk sprayed all over my black T-shirt, and the room filled with the happiest sound of laughter. “That is foul, Alex.”

She kept laughing, and I couldn’t help but join in.

“That is such a dirty thing to say.”

The corners of my lips twisted into a smirk. “A lot of dirty words come out of this mouth, Anastasia.”

The redness spread from her cheeks down to her neck as she averted her gaze, as if my television suddenly captured her attention.

“No girlfriend,” I finally stated.

She whipped back around on her stool. “Yeah, I figured that out after that comment.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked jovially and then winked at her.

Unlike when she had visited earlier in the day, she was dressed in sweats and a plain T-shirt, and a part of me wondered if it belonged to him.

Her bright blonde hair hung loosely, cascading past her shoulders.

Her face bore no makeup, also unlike earlier in the evening, yet her eyes appeared slightly sunken, almost as if a purple ring was forming around the lower part of her eyes.

She reached up to her face and winced briefly before turning away.

I realized I’d been staring uncomfortably long and urgently needed to change the subject. “You didn’t go out with Dimitri tonight?”

Uncertain if this was the appropriate direction for the conversation, I thought discussing her new husband might be something she’d want to engage in.

After all, from my experience, people who had recently experienced major life changes, such as getting married, having babies, or adopting pets, were eager to share their excitement.

But she remained facing away, staring into the living room, and a heavy silence blanketed the air before her hand drifted down to rest on her hips. She shook her head. “No. It was a guys’ night.”

That struck me as odd because . . .

Oh, no. Dimitri’s words echoed in my mind, his desire to go out and hook up with other women. Damn it. She had no clue, and I couldn’t tell her. It would devastate her, and I wasn’t even her friend. We literally met this evening. It couldn’t be me.

“Oh, I see. That makes sense,” I replied, attempting to keep my tone casual.

I wished she would turn back around so I could see her reaction, but when she didn’t, I leaned over the countertop, trying to appear relaxed.

“You didn’t go?”

“Nope. I was tired,” I responded truthfully.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between us.

So much remained unsaid. Despite the fact we had just met and that she was married to my teammate, I found myself feeling a fondness for her, a shared understanding born of our mutual status as strangers in a foreign country.

We were both new here, so maybe we could keep our loneliness company for a change instead of letting it fester inside.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled over us.

It was a simple offer, but it felt like extending an olive branch, a small gesture of camaraderie in the face of our shared isolation.

She hung her head low and then grazed her fingers over her hips before she finally turned around on the stool.

“I’m married, Alex. I just meant to come by and drop something off. I was up all night baking and I was lonely and Dimitri is...”

I held up my hand to stop her. “Stop, Anastasia.” I sighed before I gestured to the couch. “Sit. Let me at least tell you why I’m a decent human.”

The corners of her lips furled upward. “Okay.”

We walked over to the leather couch where she sat on one end and I sat on the other, but we turned our chests in to face each other.

“My parents,” I started. “They were horrible to each other.”

“Are they still married?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she repeated.

“They should’ve gotten divorced a long time ago, but we grew up without a lot of money and my mom sacrificed a lot so she’d turn the other way when my dad never came home.

He was always cheating on her, and there’s a rumor he has another son in our small town.

” I sighed, resting my hands in my lap, feeling uncomfortable.

This was one of the only times I’d ever admitted this aloud to anyone, including Coach Santana who was my mentor.. I didn’t like talking about my family because it was awkward, and I felt people would judge my mother for staying with my father.

“But you moved?”

I nodded. “Yeah, to Moscow. Truthfully, I’m not sure even to this day if my father knows if he has another child or not. When we moved, I think my mother thought it would get better, but because my father had to work twice as hard to live in a bigger city, he was twice as horny, I guess?”

Anastasia instinctively reached across the couch as if to take my hands, but quickly drew them back into her lap. “That’s awful, Alex. I’m so sorry you had to experience that as a child.”

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s fine, but there’s a reason I’m telling you this.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to know that I’m not my parents. I’ve worked hard to be different because I understand what it’s like to see a family torn apart. I would never do that to you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you,” she repeated, this time softly as she looked out the windows.

“But I could also use a friend.” I matched her demure tone.

The corner of one lip twisted into a smirk. “I could, too.”

I sank into the couch, pulling a blanket from its back and tossing it to her. She instinctively wrapped it around herself as I grabbed the remote.

“What do you feel like watching?” I asked.

Her bright blue eyes met mine. “Anything?”

I smirked. “Anything you want.”

“Let’s watch How to Deal with Mandy Moore,” she said.

“A romance, huh?” I raised an eyebrow.

She chuckled. “Of course. There’s no other option.”

I didn’t hesitate—I found the movie, rented it, and set my phone aside to watch. And when her soft snores filled the room, I quietly pulled the blanket up around her, no second thought needed.

I heard a rumble of men walking down the hallway as Dirks opened his door.

“Fuck, man. That pussy was so tight.” My captain’s voice filled the empty hallway.

Shit. I leaned over, gently rousing Anastasia. “Wake up. Your husband’s home.”

The title felt like sandpaper on my tongue. Suddenly, I hated that she had a husband, that she belonged to someone else—someone who showed her no respect at all.

“Huh?” she answered in a drowsy tone.

“I fucked her raw, too,” his voice responded outside, and I just hoped to God she didn’t hear that. “If my wife won’t give me a baby, maybe that piece of ass will.”

“Anastasia?” I tried, shaking her a little and pulling down the blanket. “You have to go.”

Although I tried to remain calm and not freak her out, she also needed to leave because being caught here wouldn’t be good.

“Dimitri—” was all I needed to say before she threw the blankets off her and sat up.

“Shit,” she cried.

“He’s inside Dirks’s apartment. I heard the door click and the two voices fade inside, but you need to leave.”

She nodded as she rose from the couch, her movements still sluggish from sleep. I reached out, steadying her with a gentle grip on her elbow.

“I’m sorry I nodded off. It’s embarrassing,” she murmured.

“No.” I reassured her earnestly. “I really enjoyed the night.”

Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, met mine. “Can we do this again? I can bake for you.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper, almost lost in the quiet of the night. “Just for practice,” she added, almost like she had to convince herself.

“I’d love that,” I replied without hesitation. My words held a depth of sincerity I hadn’t anticipated. I knew I’d always welcome her presence. “Anytime,” I added truthfully as she turned toward the door before slipping away.

I closed and locked the door behind her and hoped she reached her apartment safely before I heard him stumble out of Dirks’s place. Closing my eyes, I wondered what she was doing and when our paths would cross again.