#hisgoodpuckcharm

[stfuattclagg]

HIS GOODPUCK CHARM : A hockey player x doctor romance

CHAPTER 1

The air hung thick with the stench of alcohol and despair, a daily reminder that this was Ana’s reality- an endless, bitter cycle of broken days.

Beer bottles and lottery tickets were scattered across the floor like a haphazard mosaic around her drunken father’s armchair.

The familiar dark thoughts crept up again as she filled another trash bag, the litany of ways she could end her suffering for good. A fistful of the pills from the medicine cabinet or maybe a rope tied to one of the ceiling fan blades. She contemplated whether the rope would hold up or snap, causing her to fall with a snapping thud.

What a terrible way to die- not the hanging, but the fall.

Who would mourn for her if she died? Certainly not her father. Despite hoping, he loved her somewhere beneath the tangle of his addiction.

Her brother would miss her. He was only thirteen. She couldn’t leave him; even with their shattered family, it remained her responsibility to protect him. Someone had to hold on to the wreckage of their sad excuse for a life, much as she yearned at times to let it go. She stayed- existing, not living, and warding off the darkness as best she could.

“Shit. It’s morning.” Her father’s voice tore into her thoughts. “Why didn’t you wake me? I can’t be late. Have you seen my lucky socks?”

“Err… no.”

“I got some money and I know if I have those socks, I’ll win big,” he muttered to himself, annoyed as he looked back at her. “What are you doing today? Just being lazy at home?” he hissed.

“I was thinking of looking for a job today.” Her words came out like a stutter.

“What about that waitress job? At least that brought in some cash.”

She no longer felt comfortable serving drinks to middle-aged men, who never kept their hands to themselves. “I quit last week.”

“Stupid. You could have studied a real profession. Be a real doctor or nurse. That way I could see the benefits of you going to college, but what do we have to show for it? Nothing but debts and more debts.”

Of course, he blamed her schooling for their debts, never realizing it was his gambling that caused the problem. He conveniently forgot that Ana had paid for most of the tuition fees, including those of her brother Danny.

Besides, she was a real doctor. She just had to find a job that matched her degree as a physiotherapist, in order to alleviate their financial burden.

They probably would have been homeless too if they hadn't lived in her late grandmother’s house, which was why the house screamed of old age and in dire need of renovation.

With a deep sigh, Ana set to work. She grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen and began to pick up the empty bottles, wincing at the sound of clinking glass. The task was a familiar one - she had done it so many times before that it became almost automatic.

“I paid to feed you, clothe you and what do I get?” He bent down and fished out a small pair of socks from the bottom of his laundry basket. One of which had a large hole in the sole where his big toe poked through. “Bunch of college debts and a nuisance, that’s all you are. I was going to be a professional soccer player. I had the scholarship too, then your mother tells me she is pregnant. Puff. There goes my dream and now I have just you. At least Danny was a choice.”

Ana’s hands tightened into fists as her father spoke. Each word felt like a searing hot knife slicing through her, and the mix of sadness and anger he stirred in her grew so thick that it almost left her gasping for breath. She wished she could believe him when he said something nice, but years of experience had taught her otherwise. His words acted like arrows aimed straight at the center of her heart.

It’s said that the more often you hear something, the more likely it is to become true. He kept on telling her she was worthless and a bad luck—maybe he was right.

He stumbled out of the house. From his expression, he could very well be gone for days or weeks. Silently, she prayed for the latter.

A text message appeared on her phone screen. She squinted at it, not quite believing what she was reading. She read it again–this time out loud–and a wave of hope filled her.

Congratulations, you are hired.

This was a job she had applied for months ago. They wanted her. If her memory served her right, she bombed the interview. She had stuttered and forgotten most of her answers.

Great. This was a sign that her luck was turning around. She checked the time for the interview, two hours from now. Christ. It was on the other side of town and, considering, she didn’t have enough cash to spare for a taxi. It was wise to leave earlier.

She sped through the cleaning, got dressed, and was out the door.

***

Checking the address one more time, she glanced at the building.

It was a training center for the most popular hockey team. The Crestmont Giants.

The building loomed ahead, its glass windows reflecting the bright sunlight on a dazzling display. From the outside, it appeared almost fierce with its sleek modern design and heavy metal doors that seemed to suggest a place of intense physical exertion.

She moved further through the hallway until she found an ice rink. It was filled with fluorescent lights flickering above the ice, casting a pale blue glow over the entire space. There was a group of players practicing their shots, sending pucks flying into the net with precision and power.

The rink was bustling with activity, but one player caught her attention immediately. He was tall and big, with an intense expression on his face as he skated back and forth with incredible speed and agility.

Ana watched as the player 24 received a pass and fired a shot. His movements were mesmerizing but intimidating.

She was captivated by his skill and athleticism, though a shiver of fear ran down her spine at the thought of working closely with someone like him.

Suddenly, the coach’s voice cut through the air, loud and urgent. “Hey, take it easy.”

The player didn’t seem to hear him at first, so focused on his practice session, causing the coach to yell out again, even louder this time. “I said calm down, Kuznetsov, dammit!”

This time, the player slowed down his movements, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

“Kuznetsov.” She mouthed the name. Even though she was not really a big fan of hockey, she knew who Luka Kuznetsov was. Everyone knew.

He skated over to the boards with heavy breaths, his chest heaving with exertion, where the coach was standing. With a grunt, he removed his helmet, revealing a sweaty mess of hair and a face flushed with effort. They seemed to be talking when his gaze lifted up to her, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that was almost frightening.

“I said no fucking visitors.”

Ana could not move, her feet rooted to the spot by the sheer force of his presence.

The coach turned around.

“I’m here for an interview. I got a text.” She reached for her phone.

Luka’s face tilted, sizing her up.

Before she said another word, the powdered-haired man came forward. “Coach Steve. Hi. You must be Ana.”

“Yeah. Hello.”

He turned, “Kuznetsov, be respectful. She is the physiotherapist we hired, can't have you scare her like the last one?”

“Last one?”

“Oh, never mind that.” The coach waved his hand dismissively. “Do you have your CV here?”

They walked ahead, leaving the ice rink as she handed him the paper. “Err… this is my first job since I graduated last year and I know you would like to have someone with experience, but I assure you—”

“You got the job. I’m not in the position to look for another.” He shifted in his stand, pulling on his trousers as he added, “We might do a trial but just make sure you do a good job.”

“Hey you,” he called out, shoving his helmet at one of the gym staff.

“Her name is Ana.” The couch snapped, before turning to her, “right?”

She nodded.

“Whatever. Let’s see what you got.”

For a second, she was cut off guard. What did he want from her? An obvious look on the coach reminded her.

“Oh right. Do you have any special needs, any joint pains perhaps?” her voice was soft and hesitant, as she stumbled over her words.

He said nothing but continued his walk ahead, pushing through a blue door to a private room.

The coach nudged his head, and she scurried out, thanking the coach one more time.

***

The office was a bright, airy space with white walls and large windows letting in plenty of natural light. The floor was made of a soft, padded material that’s easy on the feet. The room was furnished with a comfortable massage table covered with a clean white sheet, a few chairs, and a desk with a computer on it. She took a break from admiring what could be her office to find Luka undressing.

He peeled off his shirt, the sinewy ridges of his muscles flexed. She struggled to keep her eyes from wandering over him but couldn’t help but marvel at how toned, chiseled, and strikingly handsome he was.

“Is this okay for you?”

Ana jolted back to reality and swallowed hard. “No problem. Whatever you feel comfortable with.” her gaze dropped down to her fidgeting hands.

She silently prayed that he hadn’t noticed her ogling him like a love-struck schoolgirl.

Ana tried to ignore the heat that spread through her body as she began the therapy session. She slipped on a pair of gloves. Despite her obvious nervousness, Ana tried her best to appear confident and professional, or this could be the last day she ever worked here. She straightened her back, stood by the cot.

“Do you have a particular concern?”

“Just give me a little of everything.”

He collapsed onto the treatment table, winced as Ana began to massage his sore muscles.

“Wow, do you grate cheese on this thing?” She said, feeling his abs in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Luka’s face remained stern and unsmiling, his brow was furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together. There was no sign he thought her joke was funny.

She muttered an apology, clearing her throat. “Sorry. I say simple jokes when I’m nervous”

Well, this was going super great.

He groaned as she dug into the knots in his shoulders. She was determined to pass this interview or test or whatever it was, but every time their eyes met, she felt a warmth spreading through her body that she couldn’t ignore.

Ana tried to focus her attention on the sound of the blades on the ice, with its reverberations bouncing off the walls, periodically interrupted by shouts from Luka’s teammates.

It was hard with Luka’s eyes fixed on her actions. She couldn’t focus with his watchful stare. Finally, she moved to his legs, determined to get rid of the stiffness in his knees. She gently bent his leg and began massaging the thigh, working her way up towards his groin area.

Before she could think twice about it, Ana’s hand had slipped up Luka’s thigh and grabbed hold of his balls. She felt a wave of shock wash over her. “Oh, shoot.” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell?” He frowned, sitting up. “You know, one rule of this job is being professional.” His voice hinted of anger.

“I’m so- sorry. I- i was distracted. It was not intentional.”

“I could sue for sexual abuse and misconduct.”

“Please. I promise–

He picked up his gears and clothes, walking out of the office, not bothering with the rest of her words.

Yep. Her shitty luck was at play again. She laid her head against the wall, banging her head. “Why can’t you do anything right?”

After a few moments, the coach pushed his head into the office. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah. umm...” her face cradled on her jaw, “I think I may have blown it.” she confessed, there was no use in hiding it.

“Really?” The coach looked confused, “that wasn’t what he said.”

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[stfuattclagg]

The hockey player x his physiotherapist

A snippet from HIS GOOPUCK CHARM

It was nearly freezing outside, but the buildings were a haven of warmth. The street is covered in pavement to keep it clean of rain and snow. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. A sense of anticipation built inside her. She had no idea what to expect, but thankfully she had her bag with her. It was filled with every essential thing a physiotherapist might need when called unexpectedly at 11pm at night.

The elevator doors opened and Ana stepped out into a lavish lobby. The walls were painted a deep red, and the floor was covered in a plush carpet. The space was filled with sleek, modern furniture and tasteful works of art, and she noticed the twinkling lights of the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Without warning, a shrill scream filled the air and a half-naked woman flew out of one of the rooms, crashing down to the ground.

“I swear. I didn’t mean for it to go out like that,” the woman pleaded, but Ana’s heart stopped when Luka Kuznetsov pounced from the room wearing only a long robe and matching loose trousers.

“Fucking bitch.” Luka stood tall and imposing, his eyes bloodshot from rage, his face contorted with fury. “I told you privacy, but you go around talking.” He bellowed with rage and tossed her clothes at her.

“Fine.” she spat out. “Its not like i need you anyway, you are the one that can’t play shit if you don’t fuck.”

Those words seemed to send Luka off because he grabbed her by the neck, his teeth gritted. “You are just a whore and will always be just a whore.”

She let out a crackling laughter.

Ana froze at the horrid sight before her. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she had just seen. The images seared into her brain, but her thoughts couldn’t yet grasp their meaning. A tumble of emotions crashed over her - fear, revulsion, panic - leaving her battered in their wake. She had heard stories about Luka’s aggressiveness on the ice rink, but seeing him treat a person like this made her skin crawl.

“Get dressed and get out of my house. I don’t want to see your face here.” he tossed wads of cash on her.

“Fuck you.” The girl scrambled to put on her dress, fumbling with her dress in haste, and folded up the money in her hand.

Ana stepped aside, letting the woman pass, her eyes wide with shock at the drama she witnessed.

“Get out of here while you can. He is a fucking monster.”

Ana stared at the door as it slammed shut and swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. The woman had left for a while, but she could not stop replaying what she had walked into.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

She flinched. Her hand turned white from gripping the strap of the medic bag too tightly.

Luka stood with a glass of some amber liquid, still in his robe, revealing his chest.

Ana followed him into the bedroom, trying not to stare at the surrounding mess.

It was clearly obvious what happened here. There were traces of it. A condom wrapper lying on the floor, a tube of lube was squeezed flat, clothes littered and a half-empty bottle of whiskey was perched precariously on an end table.

She couldn’t imagine he did all this the night before his game. She tried to focus on what she was called here for and ignore the sour stench of sweat and sex. It didn’t matter what her patients did in their private time. She was here to do a job.

“This place is a mess, but just come on in.”

“It’s okay. I will set up now.” She straightened a part of the bed and prepared her oils while Luka leaned against the mirror, his hands crossed against his chest.

Luka’s gaze never left her as she moved around the room, setting up things on the table. His eyes roamed from her slender neck, her hair was fixed into a bun, his gaze dropped to her jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. He bit his lips as his mind conjured the inviting image of himself slamming into her ass.

“Lie down, sir,” she said, finally turning to him.

Luka covered the gap between them in two long strides and leaned down to her.

“ I brought some oil, so maybe they could help you sleep tonight.” She said, the words came out like a stutter.

She was still nervous around him. He knew he had that effect on people and obviously enjoyed that.

“Aren’t you a bit curious about who that girl was?”

The question caught Ana off guard. She blinked, her mind scrambling as she tried to make sense of what had just been asked. “I have no right. To be honest, it’s not my business.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Contemplating. There was something off about her. He couldn’t place a finger on it. He didn’t have time to be picky right now. She would have to work for now. Besides, if she revealed his secret, he would destroy her. That part was certain.

“There are many players who have their… pre-game ritual they do before they go for a big match, something that makes them feel lucky if you do say so.”

“Ah. My father has some lucky socks.” She paused. “It doesn’t work though.”

Luka parted his mouth for a moment, then nodded. “Hmm… Well, mine is different. I need to have sex before I play. It doesn’t matter who the person is, as long as it’s mind blowing good sex.”