The Trouble with #9 by Piper Rayne

If I thought trying to push down my attraction to Maksim was hard when he was in front of me, it actually feels even harder sitting in the Gerhardt’s suite in the arena and watching him perform on the ice. How can someone so big and powerful appear so graceful while skating? He’s like a gliding freight train.

I nibble on the cheese and meat I took off the charcuterie board. The food’s amazing up here, but I wouldn’t mind some nachos or a big pretzel. Isn’t that half the fun of attending sports games? I’ve been coming to Fury games since Mr. Gerhardt bought the team. Jana and I were given the okay to roam the arena during games. We’d find open seats in the nosebleeds, Jana always interested in which boys we’d meet, but my eyes would linger on the game.

There’s always been something about a hockey player I can’t ignore. I’ve had crushes on so many of the players that I’ve been privileged to meet during parties and dinners at the Gerhardts’ over the years that I’ve lost count.

Being like their adopted daughter entitled me to see the behind-the-scenes of the life the players live. Sure, some are on the straight and narrow, but I’ve accidentally walked in on my fair share of players in bathrooms and bedrooms with women who aren’t their wives. Others are pure egotistical assholes when you meet them in person. It all served to take the shine off them, but it didn’t keep me from being drawn to them.

Counseling the Fury team these past months has only been hard with Maksim. With the rest of the players, I’m able to remain professional, and I really feel as though I’m making a difference. But with Maksim, the way his eyes smolder when he looks at me and the intensity in his baby blues… I find my body drawn his way. Our next appointment is in two days and it’s occupied my mind since Saturday at Aiden and Saige’s party.

“Who is it this year?” Jana sits down next to me, stealing an olive from the board. She pops it in her mouth.

I couldn’t be more opposite than Jana. I’ve felt like the fugly one all of our lives. She’s got the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the perfect cheekbones, and flawless skin. I, on the other hand, have unruly curly brown hair, brown eyes, and there’s nothing sculpted on my body. My curves are more rolling hillsides to her sleek lines.

“What are you talking about?” I look at her.

She looks around behind us to make sure no one is paying us any attention and leans in. “Maksim Petrov?” Her smile says she already knows she’s right. “I saw you two at the party last weekend. I haven’t seen you blush that much since we were sixteen and Troy Iverness came to dinner at my house.” She laughs. “He thought there was something medically wrong with you because you kept staring at him and not saying a word.”

“Funny, Jana,” I say, remembering that moment.

She grabs another green olive. “Seriously though, he’s hot and he’s got all that anger out on the ice. I bet you could help him work some of it off in the bedroom.” Her eyebrows waggle.

“You know I don’t sleep with hockey players,” I say.

Sadly, it’s true. Regardless of the way they’ve always appealed to me, I’ve seen the other side and it’s not pretty. Take Troy Iverness, for example. I thought he was the best father and husband when he’d come over to the Gerhardts’, only to find out he was sleeping with the nanny. Talk about idols being knocked from pedestals.

“That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows there are bad seeds in every bunch.”

“Well, knowing my luck, I’ll pick the bad seed and end up watering it.”

She laughs. “You’re so hard on yourself.”

I shrug. “You’d be too.”

I was the poorest in my private school in high school. Only got to go because when my parents divorced, my mom made my dad pay for it. He could barely afford it while trying to support his new family. Then I got wait-listed while all my friends got into their colleges of choice because their parents either knew someone or were alums themselves. Mr. Gerhardt pulled the final string for me that got me into Vanderbilt. I’m still paying off those loans.

Jana graduated from Vanderbilt too, and while I went on to get my doctorate, she came home and has been at her dad’s side in his business. One day this team will probably be hers.

“Plus, I’m the team’s therapist now. I can’t sleep with him now anyway.”

She rests her chin in her palm, her perfectly manicured nails tapping her cheek. “Still, you gotta wonder with a man like him. Where does all that pent-up energy go? I think for sure the bedroom.”

Jealousy picks at me while I watch Jana’s mind shift to what it would be like to sleep with Maksim. She shrugs then drinks from her martini and plops another two olives in her glass. The girl loves olives to the point of grossness.

“Petrov is sent to the sin bin again,” the announcer calls on the televisions that line the walls of the suite.

My gaze falls to the Jumbotron, where they show a replay of Maksim grabbing the jersey of another player and punching him.

“Goddamn it,” Mr. Gerhardt murmurs behind me. “Jana, may I have a word with Paisley?”

Jana cringes and stands. “Sure, Dad, but don’t take it out on Paisley.”

He winds his hand around her waist and kisses her cheek. “I know. Go find your mother.” Mr. Gerhardt takes his daughter’s seat and stares at the big screen above the ice. “How are things going with Maksim?”

I busy myself with piling cheese on a cracker. “It’s good. We’ve had one session so far.”

“Good. He’s not giving you a hard time, is he?” He twirls his scotch around his cup and brings the glass to his lips. “He can be difficult. Didn’t seem happy when I told him about counseling.”

I smack on a fake smile. “It’s early days and you know I can’t discuss with you—”

He raises his hand. “Understandable.” He nods a few times.

I think I’ve appeased him until the crowd laughs and our eyes fly to the screen again. Maksim is spraying water from his bottle onto a fan of the opposing team on the other side of the plexiglass.

“This is the kind of shit he needs to stop. Next thing I know he’s going to start a bench brawl.” He turns my way. “Maksim is a great guy. When I recruited him, he and his family were so thankful, and don’t get me wrong, he gets results on the ice, but that temper…” He shakes his head. “Well, I hope for his sake you fix him.”

He pats me on the hand and walks away.

Fix.

I hate that word. As if something is wrong with someone and they’re seeing me because they need rewiring. I’m not a car mechanic and their engine isn’t broken. Whatever the reason for Maksim’s blowups, I know it will be hard to get him to let me in. The odd thing is, it’s only on the ice. Off the ice, Maksim is known for making the rounds at children’s hospitals and autographing anything a fan gives him. It’s like a switch goes off in him once his skates hit the ice.

The game ends and I’m stuffing my phone in my purse when Jana swings her arm through mine.

“Dad’s got a request.”

I groan because I’d bet a month’s rent of my dinky apartment that the request isn’t something I’ll be thrilled about. “What?”

“He wants us to head over to Carmelo’s.”

My forehead crinkles. “The Fury bar? Why?”

“He wants us to make sure they’re behaving.” She shrugs.

“Since when are we chaperones for the team?”

She laughs. “Come on. It’ll be fun. We need a night together that doesn’t involve binging Netflix and eating junk food.”

Jana’s right, but I’m not telling her that. Lately, when she’s not out on a date, she joins me in a Netflix and chill session that I’m sure is the antithesis of what that phrase is supposed to mean. I stopped going to bars because when I go with Jana, I usually end up playing wingwoman and entertaining whatever guy the guy who’s interested in her calls over. For some reason, that guy is always the shyest guy ever and getting him to speak is like trying to pry open up a vault with a crowbar—an exercise in futility.

“Okay, then I guess that’s what we’re doing.” I don’t bother putting up a fight because I’ve had a few drinks and the idea of being around Maksim is appealing. Maybe seeing him in his element will help me figure out some things about him.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at Carmelo’s and are seated in a booth in the bar area.

I pick up a menu. “I think I’m going to eat.”

Jana snatches it from my grasp. “What are you going to do? Eat a rack of ribs or a big bowl of spaghetti right as the team gets here?”

I grab the menu back. “First off, I’m a grown adult and if I want to eat, I eat. Second of all, what does it matter? I’m their therapist, not their eye candy.”

She grips the edge of the menu and I pull it back. Soon we’re having a tug-of-war with it.

“Maksim will be here,” she stage-whispers.

“So?”

“So I know you like him, and having spaghetti all over your face isn’t going to make him crazy with lust.” I release the menu and she flies back into the booth with an oomph. “Seriously?”

“You’re playing games.” I point at her. “Did your dad even really want us to come here?”

She grins.

“Jana!”

“What? I saw you at the party. You like him.”

I shake my head. “What’s not to like? But I’m his therapist now, so that ship is lost somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle.”

Her shoulders fall. “Come on. Put yourself out there. I think you’ll reap the benefits. I see the way he watches you.”

I sigh. She means well. “I know you live a privileged life and all, but you’re aware that if I sleep with Maksim Petrov—or any other Fury player—that I could be arrested, right? It’s illegal.”

She waves me off, which I expected. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe not, but I could also lose my license to practice, my livelihood.”

She shakes her head. “Not if he’s in agreement.”

“Jana—it can’t happen.”

I love my best friend with all my heart, but she’s never had a consequence to an action in her life. Sure, her dad can be hard on her sometimes and expects a lot out of her, but at the end of the day, she knows he has her back. He can buy or influence his way out of anything bad happening to his only child.

The waitress comes over and I snatch the menu back from Jana and open it.

“We’ll have two dry martinis with double olives,” Jana orders.

I point at her. “That’s for her. I’ll have a glass of chianti and the rigatoni with cream sauce.”

Jana rolls her eyes and huffs. She can continue doing that while she watches me eat.

“Bread?” the waitress asks.

“Yes,” I answer at the same time Jana says, “No.”

I nod. “Please.”

Jana shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“The same thing you’ve done with me our whole lives… pester me until I call mercy.”

We both laugh. That’s why I love our friendship. We couldn’t be more different, but we’ve clicked ever since freshmen year of high school when I was on my period and leaked onto my skirt and Jana was the only one with the guts to tell me.

My laughter dies when the door of Carmelo’s opens and small groups of large men trickle in. A lot of them say hello to us, then head over to their favorite booths.

I don’t know what Jana was worried about. They don’t want anything to do with us. She’s the owner’s daughter after all. No one hangs with the boss’s daughter.

That is, until a large body slides into my booth without an invitation. I look over to find a pair of crystal-blue eyes rimmed with black lashes staring at me. “What’s up, doc?”

A vision of him naked on a stretcher and me with my stethoscope out, listening for his heartbeat while he opens up my white doctor’s jacket flashes in my mind.

Get it together, Paisley. He doesn’t affect you. Make him realize that fact right now.

I straighten my shoulders and open my mouth, but of course nothing comes out.