Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) by Lyssa Kay Adams

            “Not. One. Word.”

            Colton did a bad job of not laughing as he started the car.

            “You are going to apologize to her in an appropriate way that doesn’t further traumatize her. You violated her privacy. You violated my privacy. And you abused the boundaries of friendship. Are we clear?”

            “Yes, but—”

            “Are. We. Clear?”

            Colton sulked silently for a moment. “I don’t like it when the Russian is mad at me,” he said.

            “I don’t like being mad at you either.”

            They shared a tense glance, and then Colton grinned. “Things are good, though, right?”

            Vlad groaned and banged his head against the seat. But then he stopped and felt his own mouth curl into a matching grin. “Yes, it is good.”

            “Look at you, Fabio.” Colton peeled one hand from the steering wheel and punched Vlad’s arm.

            The drive to the arena took longer than normal because the city had detoured traffic an entire block around the arena. Vlad had Colton pull up to one of the police officers at the barricades. He was about to introduce himself when the cop said, “Holy shit. You’re Vlad Konnikov.”

            The officer reached through the open window with an open palm. Vlad accepted the bro-shake.

            “How’s the leg? Damn, I can’t believe you’re not playing.”

            “I’m here for rehab. I’ll be back out there next season.”

            The officer pounded the door and waved them through. Colton laughed. “I never knew what that felt like until now.”

            “What what felt like?”

            “Being totally ignored next to someone famous.”

            “He’s obviously more of a hockey fan than country music.”

            “Blasphemy.” Colton pulled onto the parking ramp and found an open player’s spot close to the door. He helped Vlad get out and walked slowly to keep pace with Vlad’s slow crutch.

            “What are you going to do while I’m here?” Vlad asked.

            “I’ll find another college girl to thrill with my presence.”

            Vlad glowered. Colton laughed. “I’m kidding. I have a book to read.”

            He left Colton sitting in one of the massage chairs and met the trainers in the rehab room. An hour later, he was pretty sure they were actively trying to kill him.

            Vlad grunted through pain as Madison hovered nearby and ordered him to do one more rep. Vlad growled in her direction and she rolled her eyes. “You don’t scare me, Vlad. I used to work for the Red Wings.”

            He let out an argh and pushed through the last rep. Then he collapsed on his back on the floor in a heap of whimpers. Being injured sucked. Of course, most of his weakness this morning was from lack of sleep, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

            Madison handed him a bottle of water, and as he sat up to gulp it down, a shadow appeared next to him. He looked up to find his coach, Sawyer Mason. It was the first time Vlad had seen him since the injury.

            “Just thought I’d come check on our boy,” Coach said, holding out a hand to help Vlad to his feet. Or, rather, foot. Madison was waiting with his crutches.

            “I am good. Things feel good.”

            “Madison and Doc have been keeping me posted.”

            Most people, including Elena, figured a coach would be more closely involved when a player got hurt, but a head coach was like the CEO of a corporation. He was in charge of everything and relied on his lower-level staff to deal with the daily operations. So, Vlad was touched that Coach had taken the time today of all days to come see him.

            “I hope you’re coming tonight,” Coach said.

            “To the game?”

            “No, to my daughter’s ballet recital,” Coach snarked. “Yes, the game. It will be good for the team to see you there. Bring your wife. Use the owner’s suite.”