Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One Page 3

  Once I’ve finished my email to her, I surf the Internet, update my social media sites…and look up the cast of The Endless Circle.

  According to one website, the actor who plays Eric is Brad McKinney. Not even close to a Finnish name, so there goes the theory about them being twins. Unless they were separated at birth.

  After I finish, I wander around the neighborhood, the late afternoon sun warm against my bare arms and legs. I approach a wall covered with graffiti. Some words are in English, words you don’t want young kids to read. Others are in Finnish or another language I can’t read. Some designs are clumsy, while others are artwork in themselves.

  I remove my lens cap from my DSLR camera and shoot photo after photo. I take a few pictures far enough away to capture most of the graffiti in the frame, including the surrounding concrete wall. Others are shot from a closer angle, so the design isn’t recognizable. All you see are abstract colors and patterns. I get lost in those patterns, the contrast of curves and harsh edges.

  I spend hours shooting close-up photos. The more bizarre and unrecognizable the picture the better. It’s about the minute detail, that singular element so full of meaning, but which is lost in the big picture. It’s the big picture everyone else sees because they’re afraid to look closer, afraid to see the truth. Like how being far from home is messing with my head so I confused Joni for an actor.

  The sun’s still shining when I head back to the apartment. That’s the best part about the location of Vantaa latitude-wise. It means more hours of daylight during the summer, so it’s easy to lose track of time.

  It’s already after 6:33 p.m. Usually Muumu and I eat around five-thirty, so I know I’ll be in trouble, especially if she knows that I’m not with Joni after all. But really, how much trouble can I be in if I can’t understand her? All I have to do is look sorry and say “anteeksi” a few dozen times.

  I reach out for the apartment door at the same moment it swings open. I’m not sure who is more shocked—me or Joni. He calls out something over his shoulder that includes my name. As I step inside the apartment, Muumu hustles into the hallway and flings herself at me.

  Still hugging me, she speaks in rapid Finnish. I’m not sure who she’s talking to, so I keep quiet.

  After the hug fest is over, she turns to Joni, and I notice we’re not alone in the hallway. A woman Muumu’s age, with short white hair and a few extra cookies under her belt like Muumu, takes in the action. When she spots me watching her, she smiles and nods at Joni. I’m not sure how to translate that. It’s either, “Hi. I’m Joni’s grandmother,” or “That’s my grandson and I hope you’ll fall madly in love with him and make me a great-grandmother anytime now.”

  I vote for the first option.

  “Your grandmother was worried something bad had happened to you,” Joni explains.

  Perfect, a translator. No charades for this discussion required. “I’m sorry,” I say to her in Finnish then switch over to English. “I was shooting photos and lost track of time.” I glance at Joni, hoping he gets the hint what I need him to do.

  Joni tells her what I said. Or at least I assume he does. For all I know, he just told her I was shooting penguins.

  More rapid Finnish from Muumu.

  “She was worried you got lost,” he explains.

  Muumu gestures at the kitchen and fires off more Finnish, except this time I recognize “syödä.” Eat.

  And inwardly I groan. Now I get why Joni and his grandmother are here. I shot him down for lunch; now they’re making sure I can’t shoot him down for dinner, too. Double groan.

  Since I don’t have many other choices, I sit at my usual spot at the small table, crammed into the equally small kitchen. Mina, the canary, chirps and Muumu coos back at the bird, then she and Joni’s grandmother sit opposite to me, forcing him to sit next to me.

  A long, red candle burns in the center of the table. Since when do Muumu and I eat dinner by candlelight? The groan from earlier is back, echoing off my ribs like wind trapped in a tunnel. Why does she have to be so freaking obvious?

  While I’m one hundred percent against this plan, I can’t deny that dinner smells amazing. Muumu made fish soup with chunks of salmon and vegetables in a milk broth. The dinner tastes great, and the company isn’t bad either. I mean, other than when the meddling grandmothers keep asking Joni and me questions. Joni is forced to translate, and it’s clear their questions are nothing more than a weak attempt to push us together through conversation. The kind of conversation you have during a first date.

  “If you were a frog, what kind would you be?” Joni translates for his grandmother.

  My mouth flops open for a second so I look like a frog, which wasn’t the look I was aiming for. Our grandmothers watch my reaction with great interest, leaning forward, eyebrows raised, and I get the feeling they weren’t the ones who asked me the frog question. If it weren’t for the mischief in Joni’s eyes, I never would’ve guessed the truth: he did it on purpose.

  “An extremely bouncy kind,” I say, struggling to keep a straight face.

  I wish I could understand what he said, because whatever it was appeases the two women. They grin and nod at each other. If I wasn’t in front of them, I expect they would be rubbing their hands in glee at their attempts at match making.

  “What did you say to them?” I ask.

  “That you want to have fifty kids,” he says with the same mischievous glint as before.

  “Really?”

  “Well, more like five.”

  I’m not sure what I want to do more—laugh or glare at him. Laughter wins, mostly because of his expression.

  “You think I’m funny,” he says. “Does that mean you will now go out with me?”

  The laughter in me dies and I shake my head. “I don’t date. Been there. Done that. No thanks.”

  Muumu speaks then gestures at him to translate what she said.

  “Your grandmother believes that love makes us strong.”

  Focusing on my soup, I shake my head again. “No, it doesn’t. Love makes us weak. And it makes us blind to what others see.” During the last few months of my relationship with Ian, I knew he was cheating on me. He was on the football team and I suspected he was fooling around during their away games. I had brushed it off because I’d convinced myself that he still loved me. It was only recently that I realized I’d been too scared to let him go because it meant I’d be alone. And being with him was better than being alone.

  Inwardly I snort at how stupid I was for thinking that. Being alone is better than risking your heart.

  Joni chuckles. “You might have a point. But I don’t think our grandmothers agree with us.”

  Both our grandmothers are beaming. I get the feeling neither plan to give up on this scheme to get me together with Joni.

  Ha! I’ve got news for them—it’s so not going to happen. I just have to figure a way to prove to them that my heart isn’t open for business.

  Chapter Five

  Kyle

  I enter the sports center, my duffel strap slung over a shoulder. The pretty blond receptionist, who’s flirted with me several times, smiles at me. I nod and hand her the membership card. She waves it under the laser beam, confirming I am indeed a member. As if she didn’t know.

  After I finish working out, I head for the showers. If Sofia keeps to the same schedule as Friday, I still have a little time. I came here yesterday, hoping to see her again. I even asked someone working in the fitness center if he had seen her, but he didn’t know who I was talking about. From what I could tell, the cleaning staff doesn’t socialize with the fitness staff.

  As I approach the sauna, showered and fully clothed, I see the sign Nik and I missed. A sign that I’m guessing says ‘Sauna Closed for Cleaning.’ But unlike last time, it guards the door, which has been left open a crack.

  “I hear American girls love sex. Lots of sex,” a male voice says. Laughter from more than one guy sets me on edge.

  I reach for t
he door as a familiar female voice says, “Come near me and I’ll spray you in the balls.”

  I open the door wider.

  Three guys are standing in front of her, caging her in. They’re large and look like they’re friendly with weights—large but not as bulked up as Nik. And they’re all dressed in jeans and t-shirts, despite the intense heat of the room, which means they didn’t enter the sauna thinking it was open to the public.

  “I’d listen to her if I were you,” I warn.

  The guys whip around at my voice, their surprise at seeing me evident on their faces. It vanishes when they realize they outnumber me.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” the guy in the center, who looks to be their ringleader, says. He’s shorter than his goons by a few inches, but he’s also the most muscular.

  I clench my hands, muscles on high alert. I’d rather not fight these losers, but if it comes down to it, I will.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Sofia.

  She nods and a stray piece of hair flops from her ponytail. I push away the sudden need to tuck it behind her ear.

  “I’m fine.”

  She shifts the hose away from the ringleader, so it faces the corner, then turns the water on. It bursts out the nozzle in a high-pressure stream, much like when she accidentally hit me the other day.

  The guys wisely back away. The ringleader glares at me before the three of them leave. As soon as their backs are turned, Sofia slouches and the hand holding the hose starts shaking, the adrenalin aftershock kicking in.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. “Those are the jerks I was telling you about.”

  I place my hand on her upper arm, needing to do whatever I can to make her feel grounded, make her feel safe. “Are you almost finished for the day?” I want to talk to her but not here. Not when the sauna is so goddamn hot. Sweat trickles down my back and I’ve only been in here a few minutes.

  “I just have to finish up in here then hit the shower,” she says.

  “Do you want to go get a coffee after you’re done?”

  She doesn’t answer right away, and I’m beginning to think she’s going to say no. “Okay. I should be ready in about twenty-five minutes. Is that all right?”

  • • •

  I wait for Sofia outside the main entrance. The door opens for the hundredth time and the blond receptionist steps out. She spots me waiting on the bottom step and her face lights up.

  “Hi,” she says. “I did not realize you were waiting for me. I would have been quicker if I had known.”

  My lips twitch into an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m waiting for someone else.”

  The main door opens and Sofia exits wearing a yellow sundress. I turn back to the other girl, but she’s already gone.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Sofia says once she reaches the second to last step. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner that’s pretty good.”

  “So, how come you’re in Finland?” I ask as we stroll along the sidewalk. People bustle past us, rushing to catch their bus home or rushing to the train station. My leg stiffens, a combination of pushing myself hard at the gym and trying to keep up with the boys while skating. None of them know about my injury, and I want to keep it that way. It will only make me look weak in their eyes.

  “My university offers an overseas work-exchange program,” she explains. “So I signed up for it.”

  “But why Finland?”

  “My mother’s from here. So I’m staying with my grandmother in Vantaa, which is a town outside of Helsinki. What about you?”

  “The uncle of one of my friends has a summer camp here for boys. Nik, the blond guy with me the other day, asked if I could help out after one of the coaches had to drop out.”

  “What kind of camp?”

  “Hockey.” I watch for recognition on her face that she knows who I am. I’m hoping she doesn’t. I’m hoping that she’s not another puck bunny who’s only interested in me because I played in the NHL.

  A light blush hits her cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t really watch hockey. It’s kind of sad, really. I’m an athletic training major but I don’t watch much sports, except for maybe when the Olympics are on. Do you play or just coach?”

  “I used to play. I don’t anymore.” I try to ignore the pain wrapping around my heart at the words and at how much I miss playing, but it’s as strong as the pain in my leg.

  “Because of what happened to your leg?”

  So she does know about the accident. Which means she also knows who I am, or at least who I was. It shouldn’t bother me but it does. As strange as it sounds, I wanted her to be oblivious to my past.

  I nod.

  “How old were you when you injured it?”

  For a moment I have no idea what she’s talking about. And then I remember. I told her my leg has a tendency to stiffen because of a childhood accident.

  It wasn’t a complete lie. When I was ten, I fell out of a tree and broke my leg. But it didn’t end my hockey career.

  “Ten,” I say, “but it’s something I don’t like discussing.”

  She smiles and I become mesmerized by the way her pink-glossed lips curve up. “Okay. We’ll talk about something else. Where are you from?” She gestures at the coffee shop at the corner.

  “Minneapolis.”

  “Really? Me too.”

  I pull open the door to let her in and we’re instantly greeted by the strong smell of coffee. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since moving here, Finns live for their coffee and they live for it strong.

  We order our drinks and find a quiet spot to sit next to the window. No one pays attention to us, unlike back home. It used to be hard going anywhere without being mobbed after I signed with the Bears. People would recognize me and want my autograph or a photo with me or they had tons of questions about the team. As flattering as the attention was, I don’t miss it.

  “What were you doing in Minneapolis before you came here?” she asks.

  “I was working in the marketing department for the Minnesota Bears. It was only an internship at the time, but they offered me a full-time position.”

  “And they let you take the summer off to come here? Wow, they must be a great organization to let you do that.”

  I take a sip of my coffee, stalling. Why should it matter what Sofia thinks about the truth? She’s not my parents.

  “I turned the position down. As much as I love hockey, I didn’t love working in marketing. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize this before I majored in it in college.”

  She visibly cringes. “What made you decide to study marketing?”

  “My father felt I would have more career opportunities if I studied law, accounting, or marketing.” He thought it would be a good idea in case my NHL career didn’t work out. How right he was on that.

  She tilts her head to the side. She’s flirting but I don’t think she realizes it, which makes her nothing like the girls I’m used to. “What did you want to study?”

  “I love physics. I was the president of my physics club in high school.” I chuckle. “I was a bit of a geek.” Which made things challenging at first. The jocks didn’t know what to make of me, and neither did the science geeks.

  “How come you didn’t study physics? Or biomechanics? I took a biomechanics course in college last semester. You would’ve liked it. You could’ve combined your love of physics with your love of hockey.”

  I sip my coffee. “I thought about it, but I would’ve needed to go on to grad school if I wanted to end up in something related to either of those. But if I had known that working in marketing would bore me, I’d have majored in something else.” I wasn’t against the idea of going to grad school, and I would have if hockey hadn’t been my life. I would have majored in physics, despite what my father had said, but the course load would’ve been too much since I was also playing on the collegiate team. And I needed to play on the team if I had wanted to be drafted by a NHL team.

  “So what do you want to do w
ith your life?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Maybe coach.” Unfortunately, it’s not the most stable position, especially at the high levels where I’d prefer to work. If your team doesn’t do well, the head coach is often the first to go.

  Sofia studies her mug, deep in thought.

  “Once you’re an athletic trainer, is there a particular sport you want to work with?” I ask.

  She pulls her gaze from her mug, blinks the thought away. And damn if I don’t want to get into her head and discover what she was thinking.

  “Once you’re a trainer, is there a particular sport you want to work with?” I repeat.

  “I’m not sure yet. I have a clinical practicum this fall with a high school, and I’ll be working with their different athletic teams. Maybe I’ll know after that.” She worries her lip again. “Can I ask you something? Well, it’s more like I need help with something.”

  “Help with what?”

  Her teeth go back to chewing on her lower lip. Lucky teeth. More than anything, I want to suck that lip in my mouth and taste her. But something tells me that’s not part of what she’s going to ask me.

  “Well, you see.” The words stumble from her mouth. “My grandmother’s trying to set me up with her friend’s grandson. I’m not interested. I mean, he seems like a nice guy, but I don’t need the complication of a relationship.”

  I know what she means, but it doesn’t stop me from asking the next question. “Is there something wrong with being in a relationship? Does it even have to be one? Why don’t you just date him and have fun?”

  “Because then I might develop feelings for him.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  Her gaze returns to her mug. “The worst.”

  “How so?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just leave it at I’ve done the boyfriend thing. It didn’t work out well, and I’m not interested in going through that again.”

  “So you want me to fake being your boyfriend, so she’ll quit trying to set you up with this guy?” This could be interesting.

  She vehemently shakes her head. “No. No, nothing like that. I just need you to kiss me once. For my grandmother’s benefit. After that, I can pretend I’m talking to you on the phone. She won’t know the difference.”