Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“ T he four of you are in room 771,” Coach Jones said, handing Archer the envelope with the keycards. “I want you to unpack, shower and get your gear ready. We’re going to practice tonight while we don’t have to share the ice with the figure skaters.” The disdain in his voice rubbed Archer the wrong way.

“Understood, Coach,” Archer said, taking the envelope. “We’ll be ready.”

“Let’s hope so. I don’t want to lose any of these international friendlies.” With that, he pivoted and started for another group of four players.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Brody muttered, taking one of the key cards. “Did something crawl up his ass and die on the bus?”

Cam snickered as they hoofed it toward the entrance to the hotel resort. “Maybe he needs to get laid. Though if his wife is a frigid bitch, I can see why. Poor woman probably hasn’t had a day's peace with that man.”

If they’d learned anything about their coach, it was this; he might be a brilliant tactician on the ice but off the ice, the guy gave off tons of small dick energy. Unfortunately for them, if they wanted to make it to the Olympics, they had to deal with Coach for the foreseeable future. It was also their last ride together for the games.

“Look,” Cam said, smacking Archer in the chest with the back of his hand, “I say, we drop our bags and hit the hot tub for an hour.”

Fuck, that sounded good to Archer. Between the traffic and being stuck in those tiny ass seats on the travel bus, he could use the jacuzzi to ease his aching joints and muscles. Afterward, they could order some room service, then meet the team in the gym for a couple of practice sessions. Tomorrow, they played Japan, their biggest rival. Saturday was Canada. As much as they knew Japan would be an easy win, they still had to prepare.

“Yes,” Archer said. “Let’s go.”

As they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, the cacophony of noise erupted around them, surprising him with how many people stood in lines waiting to check in. Phones rang behind the counter and even with four people working through the throng of people in the lobby, the main area of the ground floor was packed.

“What the hell happened here?” Cam muttered, staring at everyone.

“Probably the computers went down,” Brody replied. “Happens. Plus, the weather’s getting gnarly out there.”

Archer glanced up at one of the flat screens in the sitting area off to the right. A weatherman stood near their resort. He was talking about the approaching storm from what Archer could read on the subtitles. Conditions calling for twenty inches or more of fresh snow over the next twenty-four hours. Too bad they weren’t snowboarders. “Shit. Let’s get to our room before the rush.”

“They’re already closing down the roads into Telluride,” a person said as they passed them.

“Bomb storm? You sure?” another questioned.

“Fuck,” Body muttered. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”

“Good thing we have a room. Can’t imagine those without one right about now.” Cam frowned, punching the up arrow on the elevator.

“Do you think Coach knows?” Brody asked when the doors slid open.

“If he does, I don’t think he cares. Asshole already told us what he wants and expects. Weather doesn’t mean a damn thing to him. Besides, a little snow isn’t going to stop him from working our asses off.” Archer frowned at his reflection in the mirrored metal, when he saw the hole between him and Cam where Sasha used to stand.

Their lucky charm.

Their ace in the hole.

The girl who started out as their little sister on the ice and somehow infiltrated all their dreams, driving them crazy. He missed her something fierce. They all did. After the accident, coach told them she wasn’t coming back. The damage was too extensive. That day, the team lost their spark. Had it not been for their hard work and stats, Archer knew without a shadow of a doubt, their careers would have gone down the shitter too.

Somehow, they kept the hope alive and dedicated everything to Sasha. Then they found out about her PTSD. Her parents refused to bring her back to the ice. There’d been rumors about that day all over town. Some stuck up for Sasha. Others called her all kinds of names including liar. Deep down, Archer knew the truth. Trent did something to her and Archer knew who told Trent to hurt her. He was sure of it, but without being able to talk to Sasha, he never learned the full extent of that fateful day.

“I miss her too,” Cam said, placing his hand on Archer’s shoulder. “Just not the same anymore.”

He grunted.

“Too bad she couldn’t be here with us,” Brody muttered. “She’d have gotten a kick out of the whole thing.”

They talked like she’d died. Sasha was alive and well somewhere in the country. From what he overheard; her parents moved not long after the incident on the ice. They didn’t leave any forwarding address or a way for Archer or the guys to keep in contact with her. Probably was for the best. If things were as bad as her mom said, Sasha deserved a redo. Fuck knew no one in their small community was about to give her that. Not when all of them saw Trent as their golden boy could-do-no-wrong.

“Yeah, man.” Fuck... Why had Sasha popped up suddenly in his mind? It’d been a couple of years since he’d even thought about her.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open onto the seventh floor. The layout of the rooms threw him off-balance. He’d been used to staying in cramped quarters, everyone sleeping six to a two-bed room. This...

“Found it,” Cam said pointing to the corner room. He didn’t wait. He swiped his card through the reader and when the lock disengaged, he pushed into the room.

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” A guy snapped, kicking Archer out of his stupor.

“Who the fuck are you?” Archer said, dropping his gear near the table before stepping up beside Cam. “This is our room.”

“The fuck it is,” the guy said. “This is our room. We have keys.”

Obviously, or else they couldn’t have gotten into the space. He took in the guy's state of undress and the fact he’d been lighting the fireplace, whoever was with him, hadn’t been there long. No more than twenty minutes.

“Looks like we’re sharing,” Archer said. “We have keys too.”

“Like hell!”

The door to the room Archer hadn’t even seen opened and the face of the girl—woman—he’d fallen for all those years ago stood there, half naked, holding something multicolored in her right hand. Fuck, Sasha looked good. Really fucking good. Her naturally blond hair had been dyed a chocolate brown, causing her violet eyes to pop. She’d always been slim, especially if she wanted to fly around the rink like she did, but there was a toned physique there, too. He bet if she flexed, she’d have a sexy little six-pack going for her. Stop thinking about what she looks like fully naked.

Her soft gasp caught the others’ attention. “What the fuck?”

“Holy shit... Sasha?” Not his best material, but he figured since he’d been imagining her naked, going with. Shocked worked better in their situation.

“Hey, guys,” she said, jerking her arm behind her back. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Why are you both half naked?” Brody narrowed his eyes. Leave it to him to point out the obvious.

“If I had to guess, they were about to play hide the pickle,” Cam smirked at her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Question is, who’s doing the hiding?” He motioned between her and the guy with her.

He was going to kick both of their asses. “Long time no see, Rogue.”

She cleared her throat, trying to act unaffected by them, but Archer knew better. He saw the cracks in her facade. The shock, sure, but there was also a glimmer of something happy. Or so he hoped. “So, do any of you want to explain what the hell is going on? Why are you in our room?”

Archer lifted his chin. Two could play that game. He’d give her space. Allow her to adjust to them being back in her stratosphere. Then he’d ask her the questions he’d held onto for the last ten years. Like why she never texted or called them. She could have. They never changed their numbers. “You mean our room?”

Right on cue, Brody and Cam held up their cards as well. A knock came at the door before the beep echoed around them. The door pushed too, revealing two more people and one of them Archer could never stand, more so after Sasha’s accident—Trent Holder.

“As I live and breathe,” Trent said with a menacing chuckle, locking his gaze on Sasha.

Archer took a step toward Trent, but the other newcomer stepped around Trent and curled his lip as he pulled off a pair of expensive leather gloves. He dressed in Dior. Had a pearl necklace around his neck and a superior look of disdain in his shit-brown eyes. Archer knew the piece of shit immediately. US Figure Skating Champion, Julian Simms.

Fuck. Could this day get any more messed up?

“What the hell is this?” the guy snapped, “Fucked up past, day?”

At least the guy said what Archer hadn’t yet. “Sounds about right.”

“I see you still whine like a bitch, Wyatt,” Julian said while Trent kept his ominous gaze locked on Sasha.

“This is not fucking happening,” Sasha mumbled. “I’m going to go back into my room and all of you are going to be gone when I come back out. I probably fell asleep on the way here. When I wake up, Wyatt will be demanding I get out of the car.”

“Hate to break it to you, girl, you’re wide awake.” Trent chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for the last ten years.”

“The fuck you have,” Brody said, getting to the asshole before Archer could. “I don’t give a flying fuck what key you have, but this room ain’t where you’re staying.”

Trent turned his non-plussed express on Brody and chuckled. “Seems this was the last semi-empty room. We got the last two keys. I think we’ll be staying.”

“Get the fuck out,” Archer said. “Take the twink with you.”

“Which one?” Trent sneered, staring at the guy without the shirt, who’d looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Wyatt, or at least that’s what he thought Julian called him, flipped Julian off then flicked his fingers in Trent’s face. “Go play in traffic, asshole.”

Archer liked him. What he didn’t like was the fact Wyatt went right to Sasha. Once the door closed behind him, Archer turned his furious gaze on Trent then Julian. “Whatever the fuck is going on here, you’re not staying. He pointed at Trent. “We know what you did that day. We’ve always known. I’ll be damned if you’re allowed anywhere near Sasha.”

“Doesn’t look like any of you have a choice,” he said. “Besides we’re teammates now. I’d hate if Coach found out what’s happening here. Wouldn’t be very team spirit of you, kicking me out.”

Archer gritted his teeth. Motherfucker! Coach Jones was also Trent’s coach when Sasha got hurt. “Find a fucking room and stay there. We have the second biggest room with the two queen beds.”

Brody ran up the stairs with his gear and put it into their room, claiming it officially. “Damn, bro. Look outside.”

Archer cut his gaze toward the glass wall overlooking the town and the mountains. The snow was really coming down. If he had to guess, there was already a foot of snow on the ground. Damn. “Looks like the reports were right.”

“And we’re snowed in,” Trent chuckled. “I’m going to have so much fun this weekend.”