Break Noses, Not Hearts • andrei svechnikov

V

I put my index finger on the bridge to his nose and applied some pressure on where it had fractured. "Does it hurt when I put pressure on it?" I asked him, gazing into his gorgeous brown eyes.

"No, there is a little pain but definitely not as much as before," Andrei responded. "Am I able to play now?"

I messed around with his nose some more before I took off my latex gloves. I smiled, and only Andrei knew what this could mean.

"Your concussion clears, and your nose is almost fully healed. I'd say you're ready to take the ice," I said, tossing the gloves in the garbage bin.

Andrei's eyes lit up in pure excitement as an ecstatic smile widened across his face. "Really?" he asked.

I nodded my head as I gathered my instruments that were sprawled out next to where he was sitting and being examined. "Mhm," I responded, walking back to the counter to put my stuff back in my backpack.

After I zipped my backpack up, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my torso and pull me backward. As I recognized the scent the person carried, a scent of cedarwood cologne-Andrei's signature-I accepted his hug with a warm heart.

"Hey," I giggled as I reached my hand up to his cheek and gently scratched it.

"Hey, beautiful. Thanks for taking care of me," he said into my neck, gripping onto my hips tighter.

I smiled as I moved my hand farther up his head, then brought his head down a little. "It's my job, Andrei. It's what I love to do." I told him.

He softly giggled. "I know. I'm just saying how much I appreciate you," he responded, then delicately planted a kiss on my lips.

I blushed as we let go of each other, a glint of amber sparkling within his deep, brown irises.

"Awh. Just doing my job," I said as I threw my backpack over my shoulder and grabbed my latte from the counter.

Andrei grunted as he lifted his hockey bag and threw it over his shoulder, then glanced at his watch. "Have you ever skated before?" he asked me as we walked out of the examination room, shutting the light off.

I looked at him in confusion. "I played hockey until my freshman year of high school," I told him as we started walking down the hall towards the different offices and the locker rooms.

"I think you've told me that before, have you skated recently, I think is what I meant to ask," he corrected.

I shrugged. "I mean...not in a while, no," I responded.

He chuckled, then stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face me. "How about we take a lap around the ice?" he asked, pointing his thumb toward the end of the hall that led out to the ice of PNC Arena.

I furrowed my eyebrow, questioning the validity and legality of doing what he asked. Would it be trespassing? He's a player for the team that uses the ice for hockey games, but what happens if your coach or another figure of authority isn't there?

"Are you allowed to do that?" I questioned, looking confused at him again.

"It's only not allowed if we get caught," he responded with a devilish smirk.

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "You really like being a brat, you know that right?" I asked him with a soft chuckle.

He deeply chuckled, crossing his arms. "Oh, I know, detka. You don't have to tell me twice," he responded. "I've got an extra pair of skates in my bag,"

"But your feet are bigger than mine," I told him, frowning as I looked down at my feet. "I won't be able to skate with you."

He chuckled again, unfolding his arms and put his hands on his hips. "You can stuff unused toilet paper or paper towels into the skates," he said as we walked into the Carolina locker room.