Alexei (Chicago Blaze 5)

20Alexei“Jonah, you doucher,” Knox growls as he stalks toward our goalie. “You think this shit’s funny?”

He holds up a fistful of pink lingerie and several players in the hotel lounge snicker.

“That’s definitely your color, bro,” Victor says. “You gonna wear that under your gear?”

“Fuck off,” Knox snaps at him. “I know it was either you or Jonah who switched every fucking piece of clothing in my luggage out for this shit. What am I supposed to wear?”

Jonah grins. “I recommend the one-piece with garter belts.”

I hold in my laugh. I haven’t been here long, and I can’t afford to get on our enforcer’s bad side. I’m sitting next to Victor, and he and Jonah do a low fist bump to celebrate their prank.

“You’re not gonna be laughing when I let Molleck beat your ass tonight,” Knox says. “I’ll be standing off to the side holding his gloves while he cleans your clock.”

“The rest of us will loan you some clothes,” Anton says, trying to keep the peace. “And buy a fuckin’ lock for your suitcase.”

“I can’t wear your size medium briefs,” Knox grumbles.

Anton looks up from his phone. “Really? You’re gonna insult my manhood?”

“I’m just sayin’ that I wear extra large is all.”

Our head coach comes over to hand out room keys. I’m rooming with Easy, a second line winger I may be playing next to at some point. I’m on my second road trip with the team after putting in a month of training and rehab work every day.

Technically, I could play, but I’m not off the injured list yet. I should be getting cleared soon, though, and I can hardly wait.

I’ve been training at an ice rink five days a week, doing drills and just skating. It was so damn good to feel my blades glide over the ice again, but it’s not the same as playing hockey. I’m ready to be back in the game.

Easy and I take our bags up to our room, and as soon as we walk in, I take off my suit jacket and hang it over the back of a chair. I had to bust my ass extra hard to shrink my waist back down to the right size for all my suits. Too many doughnuts at Beckett.

While I sit down and browse the news on my phone, Easy goes over to the mini bar and grabs a bunch of bottles. I hear him take them into the bathroom and dump each one into the sink. It’s a nice gesture, especially since I’m pretty sure the team’s admin people will make the two of us pay for the charge to the room.

I want to tell him it’s okay, that I haven’t really been tempted to drink. I’m almost at one hundred days sober, and I thrive on seeing that number grow bigger every day.

But I don’t say anything, because it’s a good feeling that my new teammates support me. Anton, Luca and Victor asked me out for dinner during the first road trip, and they went out of their way to find a place that doesn’t serve alcohol.

“You feel like getting a bite to eat before we have to be at the rink?” Easy asks me.

I never get tired of his French accent. It’s cool as hell.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

I get up to grab my suit jacket and my phone buzzes in my pocket with a text. It’s from a number I don’t recognize, but the message makes my pulse pound.

Hi Alexei, it’s Graysen. How are you?

“Oh shit,” I say, breaking out in a grin.

“What?” Easy asks.

“I just got a text from someone I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from again.”

“And it’s a good thing?”

“It’s very good.” I look up from the screen. “Can I take a raincheck on lunch?”

“Sure. You want me to bring something back for you?”

“No, I’ll be okay, thanks.”

I sit down on the end of one of the beds and type out a response.

Me: Better now. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from you.

Graysen: I wanted to reach out sooner, but I thought I should give you some time.

Me: How are you? God I’ve missed you.

Graysen: Pretty good. Mostly just working. I saw on ESPN that you’re back with the team, that’s great!

Me: Yeah, it feels good to be back. You been checking up on me?

Graysen: Maybe…

Me: Good. Hey, I’m almost at 100 days sober.

Graysen: I’m so proud of you, Alexei. The first month after rehab can be really hard for some people.

Me: I’ve got my eye on the ball.

Graysen: Meaning…? I’m not good with sports analogies.

Me: I’m a better man sober. Happier. I don’t want to lose that.

Graysen: That’s fantastic.

Me: Have you thought about me at all?

Graysen: Of course.

Me: Any dirty thoughts?

Graysen: ALL dirty thoughts.

Me: Sorry, can’t type now, orgasming…

Graysen: Lol. Okay, some dirty thoughts.

Me: I was starting to think I’d never hear from you, and I just want to make sure you know I’m still all in. I miss you like crazy.