Page 66 of Goalie Interference

Nikolai

Ander’s energy has shifted. I wish I could say it didn’t affect me, but it does. Everything about Ander has an effect on me. And it has for quite some time now.

I look across the table at Ryan and he’s giving me that knowing smirk of his that he’s been giving me for months now. I wonder what else he knows. Something he had said under his breath is what kickstarted Ander’s spiral. I hate seeing him like this, though thankfully he seems to have settled back in. He’s eating his food and enjoying his dinner, which is quite delicious. So, for now, I may as well do the same.

As I continue to eat, so does everyone else and conversation around the table continues. But Ander remains relatively quiet. It’s strange for him. He’s always so talkative and can take over an entire room with little to no effort. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about him. How gregarious and likable he is. He’s everything I’m not. Me sitting in silence at a table is expected. Not Ander.

Once I finish eating, I swallow what’s left of my wine, then wipe my mouth with my napkin. Ander is still slowly making his way through his dinner, though I can’t help but notice he’s pushing his food around his plate instead of eating it. Under the table, I place my hand onto his thigh again.

Predictably, he responds to my touch. His shoulders soften away from his ears and a faint blush paints his cheeks. He spears a chunk of meat with his fork, then adds a round piece of carrot to it as well and brings it to his mouth, finally eating a full bite.

I catch Ryan looking at me. There’s an intensity in his stare and I know what he’s trying to say without using his words. He’s tried to convince me before that Ander is into me just as much as I am into him, but I have refused to believe him.

Except right now, at this table, surrounded by Ander’s family who have so graciously taken me in for the holiday. Is it possible that these feelings I’m having are mutual? Potentially ill-advised, but mutual just the same.

And that’s the problem. I’ve finally found a place in this league where I belong. What if giving in to my feelings for Ander disrupts my place with the Mules? I can’t imagine management would be all that accepting of their starting goalie dating their biggest rival’s starting goalie. Isn’t it just my luck that the moment I’ve gotten comfortable on a team for the first time in my career coincides with me meeting the man who could derail that. I don’t want to have to choose.

By the time everyone else has finished eating, I’m about ready to do as was suggested to me before dinner started and crawl under the table to get somewhere less crowded with Ander. But like a good guest, I wait for everyone else to clear out first.

Brandon stretches his arms above his head and yawns. I’m not surprised. He ate a mountain’s worth of food. If we were playing tonight, he’d be primed right now for one hell of a pregame nap.

“What room are Ryan and I sleeping in?” he asks.

“You and Ryan are on the pullout couch,” Momma B says.

“But the pullout couch creaks anytime you move on it.”

She rises from the table then leans down and kisses her son on the top of the head. “It’s Christmas, honey. We all have to make sacrifices.”

Ryan leans in on Brandon’s other side. “Think of it this way, at least we get to share it.”

“Don’t get too excited about sharing it,” Big Mike says. “That’s still our family room. Don’t ruin it.”

“Where’s Ander sleeping?” Brandon asks. “Because I’m assuming you’re giving Ivanov my room.”

Ander’s shoulders creep towards his ears again and he looks at me with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. I’d rather it was trapped between mine.

I’ll admit, I hadn’t really thought much about the sleeping arrangements on this trip. I already knew coming here that the Bouchard house was small, but I had assumed that it could accommodate all of us. So to hear that Brandon and Ryan are sleeping in the family room, while I’ll be taking Brandon’s bedroom, I feel a bit like I might be in the way. I probably should have enquired about this earlier. I could have booked a hotel room for myself. It might not be too late to do that now.

“Ander is sleeping on the blowup mattress in your old room, Brandon,” Cole says with a hint of teasing in his voice as he shovels an entire piece of French silk pie into his mouth.

Okay. Sharing a room with Ander is much better than me getting a hotel room. Excitement flows through me. I pat Ander’s thigh, pulling his attention back to me.

He looks at me, and a shy smile touches his face. “Do you want to see it?”

I nod. Yes. I would very much like to see it.

Ander

After excusing ourselves from the table, I take Nikolai to our temporary bedroom. Shutzie follows close behind and makes a beeline for his bed. When we enter, I see that my dad has already moved Nikolai’s suitcase into it and placed it at the foot of his bed.

I turn as he enters behind me and bring my hand to rub the back of my neck. With the air mattress on the floor, there isn’t a lot of room in here for the two of us to stand. Our chests are almost touching. Even though they aren’t, it’s like I can feel something pulling us closer.

He reaches behind him and blindly shuts the door, then leans against it as he looks around the room. “Is nice,” he says. “Cozy.”

“That’s one word for it.” I laugh. Even to my ears it sounds nervous. What if he hates the idea of being stuck in here with me for two nights? Because, let’s face it, there’s no place for him to escape in this house. Not even the bathroom offers much refuge when you consider that there is only one and now there are eight people who will all be vying for it.

As I continue to rub the back of my neck, he studies me. His gaze is penetrating like he’s trying to see through me. It’s intense. Way more intense than how I see it whenever we’re on a FaceTime call. In person, he can be very intimidating when he wants to be.