The timing of the International Games midway through the season wasn’t ideal, but no player in their right mind was going to turn it down.Hockey careers were short, and for most people, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Okay.I’ll check it out when I get home.Thank you.”
Coach Moldova stepped back and let out a shrill whistle, getting everyone’s attention.
“Listen up ladies, I have an announcement.Lindstrom has been selected to represent the U.S.of A.at the International Games.”
Everyone in the room burst out cheering.I accepted their congratulations with a big smile.The International Games was my chance to play hockey on the biggest stage in the world.I couldn’t wait.I just hoped I gelled with my new teammates and made my country proud.
Yvonne
Sixweekslater…
I looked out the plane window as the city of Milan came into view.I’d never been to Italy before, and I was looking forward to hopefully seeing at least a little bit of it while I was here.I couldn’t be away from the team for too long but depending how long we lasted in the tournaments I might be able to squeeze in a day or two for sightseeing.
Someone shifted in the seat in front of me, and I saw a cascade of golden hair slide down in the space between the seat and the window.Antoinette Lindstrom.The power forward was a beast on the ice, taking chances that a lot of players wouldn’t.She was an incredible player -- fast, precise, and a little bit of a wildcard, shoving her way through defenders with a sunny smile that belied how seriously she took the game.
The plane touched down and we all trudged through the small airport to the bus that would take us to our temporary accommodation.Unlike some of the other International Games athletes, we were being housed in a university dormitory instead of temporary rooms.That meant one thing: real beds, not the crappy cardboard ones the Games were famous for.
When I got on the bus I slid into a seat next to Greta Heitz, a teammate at Vancouver.I wouldn’t say we were friends – I didn’t really have friends – but we were definitely friendly.I settled into my seat and watched Lindstrom walk down the aisle, heading for the empty seats behind me.She was breath-takingly beautiful with her pale skin, bright blue eyes, and all that blonde hair.When it was down like it was now, it went past her shoulder blades in thick waves like she was some kind of a shampoo model.It was a far cry from my fine, stick straight hair.
Lindstrom was wearing faded jeans that rode low on her hips, hugging her thick thighs in a way I didn’t hate, and a tight scoop neck tee shirt with the Seattle team’s logo.Without the sports bra that I usually saw her in, her breasts looked fuller, almost too big for her slim frame.I had a vision of taking one into my mouth, then shook my head to push the image out of my brain.
“Stop scowling Volkova,” she teased as she walked by my seat.“We’re in Italy, representing our country in the International Games.That’s something to smile about.”
When my frown deepened she chuckled.“Someone should loosen you up,” she teased, leaning close to my ear so only I would hear.“I have some ideas.”
My face turned a little pink as a vision of all that blonde hair settling between my thighs flashed through my mind.What was wrong with me today?Why was I suddenly having all these dirty thoughts about the woman who’d been a rival for years?Maybe I was dehydrated from the flight or something.
“You two are so cute together,” Greta said.
I was startled out of my daydreaming about Lindstrom.
“What are you talking about?We’ve been rivals since college.”
Greta shrugged.“I always thought there was a vibe between you.You’ve got that enemies-to-lovers tension going on.”
“There’s no vibe,” I said a little too quickly, striving to keep my reaction off my face.
The truth was, there was a vibe, on my side anyway.As much as I disliked Lindstrom I found her unsettlingly attractive.I could tell by Greta’s face that she didn’t believe my protests, but before she could push me on it we heard a shrill whistle.
“Listen up ladies.”
We all fell silent as one of the coaches stood at the front of the bus, an iPad in hand.
“I’m going to announce the room assignments.”
I heard some mumbling in Russian as someone translated for a couple of the players who struggled with English.
“First off, Volkova, you’ll be in room fourteen ten with…,” she consulted her screen, “Lindstrom.”
My stomach dropped, I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my mouth.I was stuck spending three weeks in a shoebox sized room with Toni Lindstrom, the one person I didn’t want to room with.The universe had a sick sense of humor.There was no sense arguing though, the coaches wouldn’t change their mind anyway, and arguing would only get me branded as being difficult.
Greta laughed like the room assignment was the funniest thing she’d heard all day.“I guess you’ll see if there’s a vibe now when you’re snuggling together under the blankets.”
“There are two beds,” I snapped.
She smirked.“They can always be pushed together.”
