Chapter 2

I watched the boys train for a few more hours before we had to leave. I walked to my car alongside Max and Geno, who had decided to come along with us instead of riding with some of the other boys. I was happy that it was only the pre-season and we didn’t have to face the usual hustle and bustle of autograph signing. I chuckled as I watched Max try to open the door on the passenger side before remembering that you had to get in through the back seat, and he kicked the side of the car in frustration.

“Piece of shit car…” he muttered to himself before getting in the back and crawling up to the seat next to me. He shot me a glare, and I gave him a puppy-dog look. He just shook his head at me. I batted my eyelashes at him, and stuck out my bottom lip further. He gave me an angry look, but then patted his cheek. I grinned and kissed his cheek lightly. I then pulled away, and his frown was replaced by a smirk.
“Works every time,” he stated smugly. I just laughed, before I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Geno looking at us.
“I no want interrupt, but we get going now? I hungry,” he said, while rubbing his stomach to make his point. Max and I both laughed, and I started the car. Max rolled his eyes at the incredibly loud noise it made, but I just ignored him. I was used to being mocked by these guys about my car, and I’m sure they had all offered to buy me a new one at one point or another, Jordan especially. They didn’t understand why I loved it so much; but it was like family to me. I couldn’t get rid of it; it would be like getting rid of one of my brothers.

Max, Geno and I all caught up as much as we could during the short ride to Diesel. I learned that Geno had made himself a pact that he would no longer date Russian girls; he figured they were bad news. I tried to convince him they weren’t all bad; he just had really bad taste. He then vowed to ignore me for the rest of the night.

Once we arrived, we automatically made our way to the VIP section in the back. Most of the team was already there, including some of the girlfriends. When I first started hanging out with the team like this I felt a little awkward because normally the only people present would be the hockey players and their girlfriends or wives, and I didn’t fit into either category. After a while though, I began to become a part of both categories; a friend with the girls and a friend with the guys.
I made my way over to the bar and sat down next to Geno. He already had seven vodka shots lined up in front of him, and seemed to be studying them intently. When he noticed me sitting there, he lifted one up in front of my face questioningly.

“No thanks,” I said, waving it away.
“Oh yeah, I forget you no drink.” He laughed in that thick accent of his (the ignoring thing never lasts very long) and downed the shot himself. It never ceased to amaze me the amount of alcohol this man could consume in one sitting. It also never ceased to amaze me how after almost five years in this country his accent still remained almost incomprehensible. What can I say? Russians are amazing guys. Most of them, anyway. The Washington Capitals possessed two Russian individuals who didn’t quite take the cake. The two Alexanders; Ovechkin and Semin, were much too cocky for my taste.
“Liv? You hear what I say?” Geno’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Hmmm?”
“I ask if you meet Staalsy’s brother yet.” My head immediately snapped up to attention.
“Uh, Eric? Yeah, I met him. Why?”
“He keep looking at you.” My eyes grew wide. I turned my head to look behind me and, indeed, there was Eric, sitting by himself in a booth in the corner of the room, looking straight in my direction. The moment he saw me looking back his eyes immediately diverted to his drink on the table. I glanced back at Geno, who just shrugged and downed another shot. I smiled at him before getting up off of my seat and walking to where Eric was sitting, his eyes still glued on his drink.

“Do you mind?” I asked, gesturing to the seat across from him.
“Uh…no, go ahead.” He answered, before taking a sip of his beer.
“So Jordan’s abandoned you already, huh?” I said as I sat down. I saw the side of Eric’s mouth twitch upwards.
“Yeah, almost immediately after we got here.” He responded, looking over at the bar to where Jordan was standing, surrounded by three giggling blonds. “I’m used to it though; he’s always been the flirt of the family.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah; Jared’s the ditz, Marc’s the goon, and Jordan’s the flirt. It’s been that way ever since we were young.” He chuckled to himself, probably remembering some old family memories.
“So…what would you be then?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“Me?” I nodded. “Well…I guess I’d be the charming one.” He said, smiling. I was beginning to notice that he had a really cute smile. Wait, no. Cute isn’t the right word. Adorable. Yeah, that seems a lot more suitable.
“You’re charming, are you?” I grinned at him. I guess it was infectious.
“Well, I try. Maybe some time you’ll find out for yourself.” Eric said, taking another sip of his beer. Wait, what? Was he flirting? This was definitely getting weird. I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment. What was going on? Why was I blushing?! It was then that he noticed I didn’t have a glass of my own.
“Do you want me to buy you something?” he asked me, pointing to the bar. I shook my head, and chuckled for what I knew was coming next.
“I don’t drink.”
“Oh, okay.” Oh? Okay? That was it? When I had told the rest of the guys a few years ago they had all flipped out and called me a freak at every opportunity they got. And when I tell this guy, all I get is a nonchalant, “oh, okay”? He didn’t even ask me why! He was definitely a different kind of hockey player than the ones I had grown accustomed to, that was for sure. There were a couple moments of silence, before he asked me, “So how did you get to be friends with Jordan and the rest of the guys?”
“Oh, well I work for the team, actually.”
“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “As what?”
“I’m the head medic.” I answered; kind of surprised Jordan hadn’t told him earlier. The shock was apparent of Eric’s face. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, no! Of course not, I mean…well, I guess I just wasn’t expecting it.” He said stuttering, his face turning pink. “Wow, that’s pretty cool.” He added, regaining his composure. I smirked at him, amused. Even though he hadn’t said anything, I knew what he had thought when I had told him I worked for the Pens. He wasn’t the first to misjudge me as one of those puck bunny whores who only tried to get a job with the team to ogle at the players. I hated those girls. They didn’t like hockey for the sport; they just liked the guys who played it. It made me sick to watch them throw themselves all over the players; I mean, had they no self-pride?

“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. I’ve wanted to do something medical ever since I was young, so I guess I’m really lucky.” I smiled at him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable or anything; he was my best friend’s brother after all, and it was his first day with a new team.
“Wait, how old are you?” he asked me suddenly.
“Almost 24 now, why?” I answered, confused.
“Well there’s one thing I don’t understand,” he began, but trailed off, trying to find the right words.
“Shoot,” I said. He gave me a lopsided grin before continuing.
“Jordan told me he’s known you for about three years, so I’m guessing that’s when you started working with the team, right?” I nodded. “So that made you, what, 21 years old at the time?” I nodded again slowly, wondering where this was going. “How did you manage to get a medical degree in just three years of college?” I laughed at him, relieved that his question had somewhat of an easy answer.
“Well I skipped the third grade, so that gave me an extra year, and I did the IB program all throughout high school, and that gave me a free pass through all four years of pre-med, so that just left me med school. I started when I was 17, and ended when I was 20, then came straight here.”
“Wow, you must have had to work pretty hard your entire life to get that many shortcuts and stuff.”
“Yeah, but I figured it would all be worth it in the end.” I chuckled remembering my mom stressing when I was in high school at the amount of time I spent working.
“So how did you manage to become head medic in only three years?” Eric asked me. Wow, this guy sure had a lot of questions.
“Uh, I dunno, it just kind of worked out that way I guess.” I answered, now thinking back, wondering how I had gotten so lucky as to be offered the top job after only a few years. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud commotion behind me.

“Arm wrestling competition!” Max yelled, which was followed by many whoops and hollers. I noticed all the guys and some of the blond Barbies crowded around one booth, so Eric and I stood up and made our way over there. I laughed when I saw who the challengers were. There sat Max, and across from him a very small looking Marc-Andre Fleury. Poor guy, I wonder what bet he had lost.
Just as I had speculated, in a little over seven seconds, Flower’s skinny arm was slammed down on the table, and Max let out a triumphant howl, pumping his fist in the air. Flower pretended to be devastated, but then stood up and wrapped his arm around Vero, his extremely pregnant recent fiancé. He gave Max a look that said ‘you know you wish you were me’, but Max just continued to bask in his own glory and winked at a group of girls with fake tans standing next to me, and they giggled like crazy. I scoffed at him, but he just grinned at me deviously. I knew he was up to no good.

“What, Liv? You think you can beat me?” He asked, one eyebrow raised, the devilish grin still spread across his lips. I laughed out loud at him.
“Max, you know I never turn down a challenge, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of all these girls you’re trying to impress.” I threw back at him, grinning now as well. A chorus of ‘ooohs’ erupted throughout the room, but Max just shook his head at me, and pointed to the seat across from him, gesturing for me to sit down.
“I hope your walk is as big as your talk, sweetie,” he said as I sat down. He put his arm up on the table, and I put my hand in his much bigger one.
“You ready for this, Frenchie?” I asked him, laughing.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said, shaking his head at me again.
“One…”
“Two, three…go!” He didn’t start pushing right away. He actually started pulling his own hand down, just for the fun of the game. He smirked at me, and then started exerting some force. Just as my hand was about to hit the table, I felt a larger hand cover my own. Now it was my turn to smirk at Max.
“I think you forgot about my secret weapon,” I told him as I looked at Jordan standing over me, smiling. He smiled back, and with both of our strengths together, we managed to pin Max’s hand to the table.
“No fair! You two cheated!” Max whined, but Jordan just put his arm around my waist and pulled me up off the seat.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I laughed as Jordan and I both stuck our tongues out at him and walked away to the bar.
“Thanks for that, Jord,” I told him as we sat down.
“Hey, no problem. You know I always got your back, and I couldn’t just let you lose to Max like that. Besides, the look on his face was priceless!” he laughed, and I laughed along with him before I caught Eric looking at us. He didn’t seem too happy.
“I think I’m gonna head home,” I told Jordan, my eyes still locked with Eric’s.
“Uh, okay,” Jordan answered with disappointment. “Do you need a ride?”
“No, I got my car,” I answered, tearing my gaze away from Eric. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I got up and gave Jordan a hug before heading outside. I could still feel Eric’s eyes on me as I left the club.