Alexei (Chicago Blaze 5)

I ended our session to send him a message—flirting with me isn’t going to work. But I felt him looking at me during the group session, and I liked it. I also noticed him looking at Gia, and I didn’t like it.

But I pride myself on being ethical and professional. I won’t risk Alexei’s success in the program by letting any personal feelings get in the way. I’d never forgive myself for that.

“Maybe it’s time for me to start dating again,” I say to Amelia, taking a deep breath. “You know, find someone it is okay to be attracted to.”

“I think that’s a great idea! We can set up some online profiles for you this weekend.”

“Eww, no. I’m not that desperate.”

“Hey.” She gives me a defensive look. “I do online dating, and I’m not desperate.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I met that engineer Henry online. He was pretty great.”

I shrug. “I’m not knocking it, I just…don’t think it’s for me.”

“Really?” Amelia arches her brows, looking skeptical. “Then how do you plan to meet men?”

“It’s not something you plan, it just…happens.”

Amelia gets up from her chair. “Not in this day and age, Gravy. We have to give things a little nudge.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’ll think about it.”

“No, you won’t. But I’ll keep nagging and we’ll get there.”

Amelia is a very persistent nagger when she has her mind set to something. I crack slightly and ask, “Can I do it without putting up any pictures of myself?”

“Sure, if you want to go out with Hannibal Lecter.”

“Ugh, pass. Pass on the whole thing.” I give her a pointed look. “How about that soup?”

“Okay, okay,” she grumbles. “I’m just trying to save you from your attraction to this hot pro athlete, but what do I know?”

“I’m going to change into sweats, be right back.”

I get up and walk into my bedroom, eager to stop talking to my roommate about both Alexei and dating. Neither is a comfortable subject for me.

I’m probably just feeling an initial meeting kind of attraction, anyway. It’ll pass. I’m too sensible to feel a long-term attraction to a tatted-up egomaniac pro athlete.

At least, I hope I am.6Alexei“Man this is sick. I never thought I’d get to watch an NHL game with an actual NHL player,” Joe says, grinning at me from the couch in one of the Beckett Recovery Center’s lounges.

I chose the smallest lounge to watch hockey because I wanted to be alone. The Beckett Center is nothing but talking, from morning to evening. But Joe found me, and I’m okay with that because it’s impossible not to like the guy.

“Isn’t it weird being in the locker room with all those naked dudes? Dicks just waving all over the place?” He looks at me, puzzled.

“You get used to it,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve been in locker rooms about every day since I was a kid. And none of ‘em but mine are big enough to be waving all over the place, anyway.”

Joe laughs and slaps my knee. I cringe as pain shoots though my injured hip.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, getting up from the couch we’re both sitting on. “You want some popcorn?”

“No, I’m good.”

He walks over to the machine on a counter in the lounge and fills a bowl with freshly popped popcorn, then gets a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Who needs a cold beer when you’ve got popcorn?” he says, sitting back down on the couch.

Me. I don’t say it, but I’m starting to feel the absence of alcohol in my life. After a long day of sessions, nothing sounds better than a few shots of whiskey to take the edge of. Well, maybe a blow job.

Best-case scenario—a blow job and a few shots of whiskey.

But in this place, it’s fucking impossible to get booze, obviously. And sexual activity between patients is also forbidden. It’s torturous being cut off from my two favorite things at the same time.

“Oh, shit! Did you see that?” Joe points at the TV screen.

“Spearing. The ref missed it. But McCall’s an asshole, so it’s all good.”

“You know all these guys?” Joe asks me.

“Yep.”

“All of ‘em douches?”

I shrug. “The New Orleans guys are all pretty cool, except for McCall. And the Austin guys were my teammates until recently. I love those guys.”

“Sorry you got kicked off your team.”

He’s flippant about it, like I’m a high school kid who got suspended from the team for flunking a math test. Hockey was more than my career; it was my whole life. It still is. I never thought I’d be so disgracefully kicked off my team.

I’ve always pushed the limits, but I’m a damn good player and I give my all on the ice every day. It never occurred to me that hard work wouldn’t be enough to keep me safe on my team forever.