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13. DMITRI

13

DMITRI

Kavi Basra is on the plane. Flushed cheeks, reddened nose, and eyes darting around as if she's being kidnapped against her will. She hugs a bag I know holds her camera.

Her eyes take a while, but they find mine.

An undeniable force spears my gut. It's blunt. Visceral. Unwelcome.

My logic-wired brain tells me this is a massive mistake, but when she texted me, I couldn't say no. Apparently, I'm her last resort for whatever is happening in her life. And the thought of her having nowhere to go…

My jaw ticks.

Hughes gets up, as if chivalry demands he stand in the presence of any woman. "Hey. I'm Adrian Hughes. Captain of the Vancouver Wings."

"I'm… Kavi Basra."

"Are you Wall's girl?"

"Wall?"

"It's Lokhov's nickname," Hughes clarifies. "Vancouver's Great Wall of Ice."

"Never heard of it before."

"Big Man? Frozen Force? I Always Look Like Someone Spit in My Food? Also my favorite, The Silent But Glacial Prick?"

Kavi looks ready to laugh. Me, I'm debating whether tossing my captain out of the plane ruins our chances of winning tonight, and whether I give a fuck right now.

"I don't like nicknames," answers Kavi. She tries matching Hughes' energy with a bored shrug. It's not as good. One, he's got careless fuck mastered. Two, her fingers keep moving. A sign of obvious nerves.

A flight attendant secures the front door. To get out of the way, Kavi has to move further in.

"Wait," she protests.

I'm out of my seat, striding across the length of the plane. The closer I get, the more her forehead pinches.

With how short she is, I eventually tower over her. It doesn't get better when my palms brace on the overhead compartments above. At least she's blocked from the team's view, giving her some sort of privacy.

"Talk to me," is the first thing out of my mouth.

She pushes a piece of hair out of her face.

"What do you want?" I ask. My voice is hoarse. Agitated. I don't know how to soften it.

Kavi looks at the door again, teeth worrying her lip.

"If you want to leave, you can," I grind out.

The flight attendant makes a noise. We're already way behind schedule.

It doesn't matter. "I'll get them to open the door."

"I didn't think—" She lowers her voice. "That I would be on a private plane with the team."

"Your dad coaches Seattle. You should be used to traveling like this."

A strange expression crosses her face.

When she doesn't talk, I lightly nudge my leg against hers. "Last chance to leave, Basra. They don't want anyone actually using the parachutes."

"And here I thought this ride would be more thrilling," she mumbles.

"We'll find something else to get your heart rate up."

Kavi pulls the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, as if steadying herself. "Right. You must have a list. I can't be the first woman asking for some sort of artificial adrenaline rush around you."

Someone behind us sniggers. This privacy is not very private. Ignoring all the eyes that must be watching, I lean even closer, looking down my nose at her. "You're so… mean."

She tips her head up and offers me a wincing smile. "That was mean, wasn't it? And you're only trying to help."

Before she retreats into her usual polite consideration, I nudge her again. "Focus, Basra. I need to know."

"Whether I want to stay or go?"

"Sure. But also—are you okay?"

Kavi inhales. Her body wobbles, but before I can steady her, she reaches to the overhead compartment for balance.

I don't get it. All I did was ask if she was okay.

"Stay," begs Hughes, the nosy fuck coming to linger behind me. "We won't bother you. Promise."

"I—" She hesitates, breathing deeply. "Yes. I do need to stay."

Before I can ask why, her head tentatively pokes out from under my arm. "For the record, I'm not Lokhov's girl," she says. "I want to make that clear."

It's a statement I should happily agree with. Why does it piss me off?

"Why don't you like Lokhov?" wonders Quinn. He's our goalie. More social than me, but quieter than Hughes because everyone is quieter than Hughes. Quinn's a giant nerd and is always after the team to have game nights. A scar marks his face from his left eyebrow down to his neck. No one can ask him about it.

Since Kavi seems more comfortable, I let my arms drop and step to the side.

"You said it," she says. "He's the Wall."

Quinn taps his chin. "And walls aren't very sexy, are they?"

Lightning quick, I turn my head to her.

"I don't know what kinds of activities you people are into, but no. Stationary objects are not sexy."

"You people?" pouts Hughes.

"Yes, hockey players." Kavi frowns, as if the whole subject is not worth her time.

"Then who are you to him?" someone asks, as if we're in the middle of a fucking romantic comedy.

When she doesn't answer, the team moves in.

"My guess is a therapist. The poor thing, what she must have seen and heard would give anyone trauma."

"No, she's his translator. Here to tell us what his grunty silences mean."

"Accountant. Lokhov lost all his money."

"If Lokhov's poor, the rest of us are screwed."

Addressing the team, I tell them flatly, "I hate you all."

No one bats an eye.

An announcement comes on, asking everyone to take their seats.

Beside me, Kavi scans the plane. "Where should I sit?"

Hughes clears the seat next to him, moving his jacket to the overhead compartment.

Not a fucking chance, you prick.

Before he can open his mouth and charm Kavi like he does every woman, my hand finds the dip of her lower back. I'm not ready for how warm she feels against my palm. "Go to the spot in the back."

She heads there, saying along the way, "Thanks for letting me come on board."

Quinn salutes. "Truthfully, we'd do anything for our man, Lokhov. Even when he ignores us."

"Good thing Coach flew in before us," says Matt, our left winger. "He's not here to yell at us for running late."

"Yeah, because he's blowing up my phone right now," groans Hughes.

The team keeps talking, but I tune them out, focusing on Kavi. When my gaze snags on the curve of her shorts, the front of my pants unexpectedly tighten.

No.

If I could punch my dick right now, I would.

Stopping before the seat, she turns around. "Letting me come… I'll find a way to repay you."

Fuck. I do not need to know how badly I want to hear her say that again.

Her sitting on my face, lowering herself on my mouth, shaking uncontrollably and crying out. Letting me come… I'll find a way to repay you.

All the blood in my body starts flowing toward my cock.

My jaw aches because I'm clenching so hard. I should focus on why Kavi is here. If her plan is to make Smith curdle with jealousy, then I can't wait to imagine that forehead vein of his bulge.

If that's what she needs from me, I'll do it.

It's only one game. Then we never see each other again. A last goodbye.

My cock stirs again when she turns around. Her curves have me internally swearing and telling myself, even if she's here, I can't touch her again. I won't. I don't want to remember the feel of her body against mine.

Kavi's foot knocks against the strap of a duffel.

She starts falling.

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