Pucking Sweet: Chapter 62
I step into the lobby of the Jacksonville General Hospital ICU, and head over to the nurse’s station. The Leafs game is finally over. We won, and I don’t even fucking care. Lukas is hurt. I had to watch him get wheeled away on a stretcher, leaving behind a pool of blood on the ice.
I tried to find Poppy before I left, but she went missing, and now she’s not answering her damn phone. I pray to god she beat me here.
Something’s off between them. Lukas hasn’t come over for the past two nights. He made a lame excuse about needing to focus for the game, but I don’t buy it. I swear, if he’s about to sabotage what we have, I’m gonna finish what that Leafs player fucking started.
“Hey, I’m looking for Lukas Novikov,” I say at the nurse.
“Are you next of kin?”
“I’m his emergency contact. If you check his file, I should be listed. Colton Morrow.”
She taps a few keys on her keyboard, glancing at the screen over her sparkle-framed readers. “He’s in room 2D. Have you spoken to the doctor yet?”
“No, I literally just got here.”
“You can go in. If he’s asleep, please let him rest.”
“Thank you,” I say, already on the move down the hall.
I find the right room and step through the open door. Lukas is dressed in a hospital gown, blankets pulled up to his chest. All his hockey gear is piled in clear plastic bags on the floor. I can see the blood-stained jersey they probably had to cut off him. There are no bandages on his face to let the wound breathe. A row of stitches trails along the bottom of his cheek from the edge of his jaw up into his hairline by his ear.
My stomach twists in a knot. “Jesus, Nov.”
“Hey,” he mutters.
“You’re awake?”
“Barely.”
This room is quiet as a tomb. The only sound is the slow beep of his heart rate monitor. It’s a jarring change coming from the screaming of sixteen thousand fans. He’s got a pulse monitor on his finger, the tip glowing red. An IV sticks out of his arm, leading up to a double bag of fluids and antibiotics. As I step closer, I see that it’s not bruising or discoloration on his cheek, it’s just Betadine. I sink down into the chair by his bedside, taking his hand in mine. “So, how many stitches is that?”
“One hundred and twenty,” he replies, eyes closed.
I squeeze his hand. “Well, I think that’s a record. You may even have Frankenstein beat, bud.”
He smiles, but it turns into a wince as it pulls on his stitches.
“How long are they gonna keep you caged in here?”
“Just overnight. They’d let me go now, but they want at least one more round of IV fluids in me. Turns out I was dehydrated and possibly low on iron.”
“Well, we’ll just get you some vitamins. I can swing by the store on the way home.”
“Was Poppy here? Did I miss it?”
I glance around the room, looking for any sign. Knowing her, she’d bring him a basket packed with slippers and a toothbrush and homemade snickerdoodle cookies. “I don’t think so…things were pretty crazy after the game, bud. She had those Finnish scouts here—”
“It’s fine. She probably won’t come.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because she’s mad at me.”
I sigh. “Why is she mad at you? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he replies with a shrug. “And that’s the fucking problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“She told me she loved me, and I didn’t do anything. I didn’t say anything. Well, actually, I told her to take it back, and when she said no, I walked the fuck away.”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter. “What prompted her to say that she loved you?”
“We were arguing.”
“Naturally.”
“I told her to stop accepting shitty things, and to fight for what she wants, and that made her mad. Then I got mad and told her if she didn’t fight, I was gonna fight for her. So, she told me she loved me and said I better not fight for her, or she’ll hound me to the ends of the earth.”
I fight a smile, picturing the chaos of that moment perfectly in my mind. God, she’s so beautiful and fierce. It doesn’t bother me at all that she told him she loved him before she said the words to me. I know exactly how Poppy feels about me. That woman loves with her whole being. To be loved by Poppy is to be wrapped up body and soul in her goodness, her light.
I love her too. I’d say it every hour of the day if she’d let me. But I’m going to appreciate her timing here. She’ll say it when she’s ready. Once she does, there’ll be no holding me back.
In the meantime, I get to watch these two circle each other like sexy cats in a bag, which is highly entertaining.
“She loves you, Nov.”
“I know. Fuck me if I know why.” He glances my way. “Do you think I can get her to stop?”
“Do you really want her to stop?”
He looks away. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be this guy.”
“What guy?”
“Mr. Dependable. I don’t know how to be the guy who answers the phone and remembers the detergent and always minds his manners.”
I chuckle. “I’m sorry, did she tell you that she loves you, or did she ask you to get a personality transplant?”
He glares at me. It looks extra menacing with that face full of gnarly stitches. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I sigh. Seriously, of all the defensemen she could’ve picked, I’m yoked to this one forever? “Nov, she loves you. This shitty version of you right here.” I gesture at him lying in the hospital bed. “The version who steals all my food like a feral raccoon, can’t appreciate the benefit of lamps, and buys new clothes instead of doing laundry. This imperfect, annoying, selfish person. She’s not asking you to change.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I appreciate your lamps, asshole.”
I smile. “I’m not asking you to change either…though the clothing habit is wasteful. I’ve already scheduled a laundry service for you.”
He looks up at the ceiling. “She deserves better than this.”
I tense. “Better than what?”
Slowly he turns to look at me again. “You’ve been watching all this bullshit unfold the same as me. You really want to put her in the middle and let people say that shit about her, about us?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if I back off, then the two of you can come out as dating and just be a free, normal couple. No media hassle, no bullshit, no wacko keyboard warriors saying you’re going to hell.”
“We were bound to get some of that anyway,” I say with a shrug.
“What? Why?”
“Racism is still alive and well. Not everyone supports interracial dating.”
“That is so fucked up,” he mutters.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I lean forward in my chair. “But I’m not going to let you pull away from this—”
“I’m not gonna hurt her.”
I drop his hand and lean away with a glare. “Pulling away will fucking hurt her. And I warned you weeks ago what I would do to you if you hurt her.”
“Cole—”
He doesn’t get another word out before Poppy’s clicking heels in the hall announce her imminent arrival. She comes around the corner in her teal dress and sexy black heels. Her hair that was down is now tossed up in a ponytail. Her makeup looks smudged, like she’s been crying, and her cheeks are pink.
She looks from me to Lukas before bursting into tears. “I’m sorry,” she cries, hurrying into the room, dropping her heavy bag to the floor by the door. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” She stands on the other side of Lukas’s bed, taking his hand. Her other hand goes to his hair, brushing it back as she kisses his brow through her tears.
The asshole leans into her touch, his whole body turning like a plant seeking the sunlight.
Yeah, this is a man ready to take two big steps back.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” she says, lifting his hand and kissing that too, careful not to dislodge the pulse monitor. “I had the Finnish scouts, and the press conference, and then Rachel and—oh—Mars is going to the Olympics!”
“That’s awesome,” I say. “It’ll be fun to watch.”
Her smile falls as she glances between us. “It’s out. It’s all coming out.”
My heart skips. “What’s coming out?”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but Rachel was just suspended tonight for unethical conduct.”
I lean forward. “What?”
“Because of Compton?” Novy echoes.
She shakes her head. “No, it turns out they’ve had all the HR relationship forms signed since the beginning. And she hasn’t been treating him. No, it’s because of Ilmari.”
“His injury?” I ask.
“No, they’re together,” she says. “It all came out tonight. It was just awful. I had to be there to witness the whole thing with Vicki and the coaching staff. Rachel and Jake I knew about, but apparently Caleb has also been involved.”
“Well, we knew that,” Nov says with a shrug.
Poppy’s eyes go wide. “What?”
“Yeah, we caught them fucking at the hotel. They’ve been sneaking around for weeks.”
She sinks down onto the bed. “Seriously? Weeks? And neither of you said anything?”
I shrug. “It didn’t really seem like our business. We didn’t want them in our business either.”
“Well, hold onto your hats because she’s been seeing Mars too. And Jake and Caleb were literally caught in the closet tonight.”
“No,” Novy gasps. “Man, we just asked the assholes to fess up, like, two days ago. Seriously?”
“And now they all wanna come out. They say they’re done hiding. Full press releases, the works. They want to get ahead of it as best they can. Rachel Price, America’s rock’n’roll princess, is in a loving, polyamorous relationship with our equipment manager, our Olympic-bound goalie, and one of our star defensemen. So, my life just got infinitely more complicated. I now get to coordinate a four-way coming out with the PR reps for Hal Freaking Price.”
“No,” Novy gasps again. “Do you get to meet him?”
“Well, y’all have a game in LA next weekend, and I’ve been asked to fly out for it.” She glances between us, her shoulders slumping a little. “Honeys, I’m sorry, but this is gonna take up a lot of my time this week. It’s gonna be a mess. My phone is already ringing—”
“Poppy, we’re not gonna stop you from doing your job,” Lukas says.
“I know, but you’re injured. You’re in the hospital.”
“I’m fine.”
“You have a face full of stitches—”
“Proof that I’m fine,” he says over her. “Besides, you’re not my emergency contact. Cole is. He’s the one legally obligated to bring me ice chips and a change of underwear and help me hobble out to the car—”
“Oh—underwear,” she cries. “I came straight from the game, and I didn’t even stop to get you anything you might need. But I was already making a list and—”
“Poppy.” He grabs her hands in both of his. “I am fine. I’m happy you’re here, but I don’t need you here. You have your own life with your own job to do. In my job, injuries happen. This isn’t my first, and it won’t be my last. I’m doing my job. You can go do yours without any hard feelings.”
She blinks back her tears. “Yeah, but we really need to talk. There’s so much to say…”
I glance over to Lukas, waiting. Is he going to say the only thing she needs to hear? The asshole covers his silence by reaching out a pathetic, pulse monitor-clad hand for his cup of water, taking a sip.
“We have time,” I say, covering for him. “We’re not going anywhere, baby. And Lukas is right. If you have a job to do, you go do it.”
She looks between us again as we all hear her phone buzzing in her bag. Leaning down, she gives Lukas a kiss, just a quick press. Stepping around his bed, she comes to me. Hand on my shoulder she leans down, kissing first my forehead, then my lips. I can’t help but skate my hands up her thighs. I take in a deep breath, filling my senses with her—her warmth, her scent, her closeness.
She pulls away, her hand still on my shoulder, looking down at me with watery eyes.
“I’ll stay with him tonight,” I say.
“Thank you.”
I smile, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “No thanks needed. This is family, yeah?”
She sniffs back her tears. “Yeah, it is.”
Turning away, she collects her stuff off the floor, pausing by the door to give us both one last look, like she’s trying to commit us to her memory. I can’t help but realize I’m doing the same thing, watching as my future smiles and walks away.