willyonice

[willyonice]

I'm crying. This was beautiful and I loved everything about it!!

;; What Comes After for @kurlyteuvo for the summer fic exchange 2k25

Summary: When Mikko is traded mid-season to the Carolina Hurricanes, it feels like he's lost everything. The last thing he expects is to be drawn to Lucy Deveraux dietitian. Lucy has worked hard to earn respect in both in life and in the league, even if she doesn't quiet have it for herself. She’s used to players cycling in and out of her life. What she’s not used to is someone like Mikko noticing her for more than just what she can do for his diet. Kinks & TW: player x employed by the team, undefined relationship, plus-sized/curly original character, height difference, thigh riding, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving), trade angst, resolved angst, edited but probably poorly. As always, if you feel like I need to add any other kinks/triggers, please yell at me. Author Notes: DONNA! I don't think I've done a very good job at hiding that I've been your fic writer because I've been tip toeing around the topic every time you've talked about writing yours! I hope I still managed to keep it a surprise. And I apologies with how rushed the plot (and the editing) may seen. The deadline snuck up on me very quickly -- and as always, the plot I found myself forming could have easily been a full size novel. There was so much more I wish I could have included but I hope you enjoy it all the same. And of course, a huge thank you to @wyattjohnston for putting the exchange together, and always finding me a recipient that has players/tropes that challenge me as a writer! Please be kind. This is the first time I've really written a curvy/plus-sized original character that struggled with her body imagine all the while being confident and beautiful in her own skin! I hope you all love Lucy as much as I do! Word Count: 15k+

Playlist.

Rantanen, Hall traded to Hurricanes in 3-way deal with Avalanche, Blackhawks – Necas, Drury go from Carolina to Colorado; Chicago gets draft pick

***

January 29th, 2025

First thing in the morning, the kitchen space in Lenovo Center could only ever smell like one of a few things: Steel-cut oats with cinnamon and strong coffee, or the sweat of twenty-three over-worked professional athletes. Lucy preferred the former of the two, which she could always guarantee if she arrived early. If the kitchen was alive with the clatter of plates of the chirping of rookies trying to earn their place in the line up – and an extra piece of bacon on their breakfast bagel – she knew she was too late. But the morning was quiet. She heard nothing more than her sneakers squawking faintly against the clean tile floor as she stepped into the prep area with her tablet in her hand and her stomach growling.    

She walked straight to the cupboard, going through her inventory without any hesitation. Lucy had done it so many times since he had been hired by the organization that it was second nature. They were out of the yogurt Seth preferred. The fruit bowl had a disproportionate ratio of apples to bananas and the citrus were all gone. And Andrei’s overly complicated, but strongly preferred, supplement mix recipe that was scribbled down on a bright pink sticky note and taped to the cabinet was suddenly missing. 

Sighing, and ignoring the sudden rumble in her stomach at the thought of a cold orange slice, Lucy added to her list on her tablet. Work was her happy place. The organization, the science, the routine. It gave her control in a way the rest of her life failed to have. 

Her stomach growled again, so loudly that she couldn’t ignore it anymore.  

Lucy had skipped breakfast. Again. It was the second time that week the food in her own kitchen had gone untouched. She tried not to put much thought into why, but they haunted her as she stood at the centre of the counter top face to face with anything she could fathom for breakfast. Her scale had glared at her when she had stepped on it that morning, and her date the night before had ended with a you’re nice but… text she wouldn’t reply to. 

The thoughts alone should have been enough to tide her over until lunch, but there was no ignoring the ache in the depth of her stomach. Lucy would compromise. It wasn’t food if it was blended. She made her way to the industrial blender and dumped in frozen bananas, oats, a spoonful of powdered peanut butter, almond milk and cinnamon. But no kale. She didn’t have the energy for kale today – and she actually wanted to enjoy her smoothie. 

She was halfway through pouring the smoothie into her favorite cup – a sparkly purple cup lid and straw combo that was a gift from her mother on her last birthday – when she heard a heavy sigh from somewhere in the room. 

Her first wrapped around the cup so tight it almost overflowed at the realization; she wasn’t alone. 

Turning slowly in place, Lucy looked out over the seating area that looked like a high school cafeteria when it was flooded with players. But it was completely empty, with chairs tucked into their respective tables instead of moved to where it was most convenient to talk about fantasy NFL rosters or the team’s next big party. All except for one. The player sat alone in the corner at the far end of the room, facing the wall. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to be seen. Lucy blinked, her head cocked to the side as she let her eyes drag down his head of golden curls and across the breadth of his strong shoulder. Silently, Lucy chastised herself. She should have noticed him sooner. 

“You’re early,” Lucy said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Or an insomniac.”

The player looked up from the table top and up at the wall in front of him. But he didn’t look at her. She watched as his shoulders tensed, straightening up from their heavy slouch before he reached a single hand up to stroke through his hair. “Bit of both.”

Recognition should have hit her then, but she didn’t know that voice. She had been working with the players for over two years now, but he wasn’t one of her guys – which meant he had to be one of two people: Taylor Hall or Mikko Rantanen. The two of them had been the product of the blockbuster trade that sent Necas and Drury to Colorado and left a mess of paperwork on her desk. Lucy had yet to review their files that had been sent over by their respective team’s nutritionists – she hadn’t expected them so soon. 

Stepping a little closer to the table, Lucy leaned in a little closer just to get a better look at him – she couldn’t risk misidentifying him. Big shoulders, stoic features and eyes so blue that they made her heart skip a beat – it was only then it clicked. 

“Rantanen, right?” She asked, even though she knew she was right. “I’m Lucy Deveraux. Team Nutritionist. I handle what goes in your body when it’s not adrenaline and regret.” Lucy smiled softly and raised her smoothie cup up in a casual greeting. 

Mikko offered her what she was sure was supposed to be a smile. His lips had curled so slightly that it almost looked like a grimace, and there was a darkness in his bright eyes that reminded her of rainy days. It didn’t look like he was tired. It was something heavier that she couldn’t quite identify without knowing him. 

Her eyes fell from him and down to the plate on the table in front of him. He had made himself a breakfast – or what she was sure was supposed to be breakfast. A piece of dry whole grain toast, a single boiled egg sprinkled with pepper, and a sad cup of Seth’s plain yogurt. No flavor. No joy. Just enough to stop his stomach from growling.

“I’ve heard McKinnon was a hard ass for nutrition, but I didn’t think he had you all eating like he was an almond mom.” 

Mikko’s lips tugged upwards – a real smile – before falling again. He looked down at his place, then back up at her. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You don’t have to be hungry,” Lucy told him, “but you do have to fuel your body.” She held out her smoothie, glittery cup and all, an offering to him. “Here. Try this.”

His head cocked back a little further, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he asked, “Are you always this persistent?”

“Only because you’re going to be tired after your first practice with Rod,” Lucy told him, her voice soft as she wiggled the sparkling cup at him. The sparkled danced under the fluorescent lights, and she just hoped it made it more enticing. “You’re not the first guy to look like hell after you’ve landed. I’m not asking you to love it here just yet. Just don’t let your performance be the thing you lose next.”

Mikko’s shoulders rocked with a heavy sigh as he reached out for the smoothie. His fingers brushed hers as his large hand wrapped around the cup in his fist. After a quick examination, and what looked like a subtle sniff, he took a sip. The smallest of smiles returned. 

“Banana, oats, peanut butter, almond milk, cinnamon,” she listed, “I usually add kale, but, I didn’t feel like ruining my day right from the start.”

He made a small sound that almost sounded like a laugh before taking another sip. 

“I’ll take that as a success, and I’ll just get rid of this for you,” she added, reaching for his depressing breakfast. Lucy carried it with her back into the kitchen and tossed it into the compost bin without waiting for permission. She tucked the plate into the dishwasher,then grabbed a disposable cup to make herself another smoothie. 

The industrial blender whirled, masking Mikko’s footsteps as he walked up beside her and joined her at the counter. She almost jumped when she spotted him out of the corner of her eyes. He was tall, just two inches shy of being an entire foot taller than her and he was broad – so much so his arm nearly brushed up against hers as he took over most of the prep space just by existing in it. 

Lucy wouldn’t have to ask why his nickname was Moose. 

“Thanks,” Mikko said, his voice soft. 

“For doing my job?” she quirked up a brow as she popped the flimsy recycled plastic lid onto her compostable cup. 

“For not treating me like a headline.”

Lucy paused, her eyes fixating on the pale brown liquid of her smoothie as it overflowed from the mouth of her cup and oozed down the side of the cup. Then, she turned, catching his gaze as he stood there, his neck craned slightly to look down at her. Their gaze met for a second longer than she meant to, and the intensity in his eyes sent a nervous prickle over her pale skin.

Her mouth went dry, and she took a quick sip of her smoothie – under the guise of trying to prevent it from spilling further – before she could speak. “You’re welcome,” she managed, “But let me be clear, I will annoy the hell out of you if I see you trying to skip out on a real meal again.”

Mikko took another sip from her sparkling purple straw, and he smiled again. This time, there was a calmness in his eyes, like a ray of sunshine after a storm. It shined down on her for a mere moment before the thunder of chaos struck: The rest of the team was arriving, and the whole room was about to know Seth’s last yogurt cup was missing – and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him where it had ended up. 

***

January 31st, 2025

The fluorescent lights above Lucy’s desk buzzed softly, barely audible, but just loud enough to make her skin crawl. Normally, she liked to work with them off, with the light of her computer and the amber glow from her floor lamp – her favorite thrift-store find: a brass arc floor lamp she was sure was from the 80’s. It brought a homey feeling to the otherwise sterile, too small office. It was windowless, and perpetually cold – like most of the lower-level rooms in the area. But it was a place to call her own instead of having to make a meeting space out of the kitchen when she had to meet one on one with the players. 

Files were stacked in piles at the corner of her desk, it was a mess of organized chaos to sort through before the files could find their final destinations. Beside them was her coffee stained Carolina Hurricanes mug and a tiny bobblehead of Rod Brinda’Amour hoisting the Stanley Cup. 

He was a beacon of inspiration for any player that came into her office. A reminder that while they were the key pieces in what would be a push for the Stanley Cup, but that the staff stood with them and would support them in every single way that they could. From the edges of the skate blades, to the food that fueled them, they could finally fight their way back to the cup if they worked together. 

Lucy reached out with a single manicured finger and tapped the top of Rod’s head and watched it bobble with a small smile before her eyes raised back up to her computer screen. She was scrolling through Mikko Rantanen’s records that had been sent over by the Avalanche’s steam. It was highlighted with a rainbow of colors, focusing on what she wanted to discuss or any area she felt like they could improve on while he was with the team. It really wasn’t all that much to review, Lucy ultimately started to highlight random things in pink just to make herself look busy when there was nothing else on her to do list – and that was exactly what she had been doing when she heard a soft knock against the doorframe. 

“Come in,” she welcomed him without looking away from her screen. 

She heard his heavy footsteps as Mikko made his way inside, and the gentle closing of the door behind him. It was only then she looked up, no longer needing to pretend to be busy. He was dressed in a grey dry-fit shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin and  black joggers that hung loose and low on his hips. His only accessories were the slight sheen of sweat – or maybe it was water from a hot post-practice shower – that clung to his neck and the heavy bags under his eyes. Mikko looked tired, not just from practice, the kind of tiredness that came from racing thoughts and sleepless nights. Lucy could see it in his eyes, and how he wouldn’t quite meet hers. She had seen the look so many times before in the reflection of her own mirror. 

Mikko sat across from her stiffly, his arms crossed lowly on his chest and his shoulders slouched. He didn’t want to be sitting across from her, but no one ever really did at first. Not when she looked the way she did. 

Lucy wasn’t unhealthy, she knew that, but she knew she didn’t fit the body type that people usually associated with nutritionists. She wasn’t a size zero. She wasn’t muscular, nor was she running any marathons any time soon. So when a professional athlete walked into her office and saw just who was going to be telling them how to take care of their bodies for peak performance, it made it difficult to earn their trust – but Mikko, he seemed different. He didn’t seem like he didn’t want to be in the same room as her because she didn’t look qualified to do her job. He didn’t want to be there for one simple reason: Carolina wasn’t his home. 

“Alright,” Lucy smiled, her fingers tapping across her colorful keyboard before she turned her screen towards him. “I’ll make this quick and painless for you,” she hoped her playfulness would put him at ease, but Mikko only seemed to slump further into his chair. “Here’s where we’re starting. Weight’s stable. Body fat has gone up just a bit since your last measurement in Colorado, but nothing we’re worried about here. Lean mass is solid. And..” she tilted her head to the side, her hair falling into her eyes as she spoke, “you’re dehydrated.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mikko shrug. “I drink when I’m thirsty.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Lucy challenged, “Are tasks that used to be easy now leaving you feel weak? I’d put money on you having headaches. Daily. And there’s no hiding these,” she tapped the skin below her own eye, “sunken and purple. Dehydrated and not sleeping right, double whammy. Your body is screaming at me for help.”

Her tone was heavy with a playful drama that earned a faint smirk from Mikko. 

Lucy smiled to herself. Progress. 

“I know you’ve probably done this a hundred times, but I don’t know you. So please, humor me. At least pretend you’re going to consider my suggestions.” Lucy slid a slim folder across the desk towards him as she spoke – a food log on one side, a sleep tracker on the other. 

“Walk me through what your day looked like yesterday. Start with when you woke up.”

Mikko leaned back in the chair, a single hand reaching up to knot in his damp curls of blonde hair. His head leaned back, resting on the top of the chair as his eyes fell shut. “Woke up around six. Didn’t sleep well, the hotel bed is too soft.” He paused, a heavy sigh rocking through his body as he seemed to melt further into the comfort of the chair. “Grabbed coffee in the lobby. Tried eating breakfast here, and drank that smoothie instead. Had practice, and ate a protein bar after.”

“What did you have for lunch?” Lucy prompted. 

“Grilled chicken salad.”

“Well,” Lucy hummed, “that’s boring. And what was for dinner?”

Mikko didn’t answer right away. Instead he sat up slowly, his eyes peeking open like a child that knew they were about to get in trouble. “I didn’t really eat much. Nothing before the game. I ordered room service afterwards. Only ate the bread that came with the soup. Wasn’t hungry.” 

Leaning back in her chair, Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and found herself mirroring Mikko’s casual posture as she studied him. Her eyes dragged from the tried expression of his face, and down his body that rested there. She looked at him not with judgment, but with concern. She had been working as a nutritionist long enough to recognize when something wasn’t right – and she had been struggling with enough herself to know that he was trying to hide it. So, she wouldn’t push him. Not yet. 

“You do know that your body burns through four thousand calories on a heavy day, right?”

Mikko shrugged again, “I’m not trying to bulk right now.”

“Are you trying to play hockey right now?” Lucy countered, her voice soft. “Because the last time I checked, you have a game tomorrow and then,” she pulled up the team schedule, “you’re on the road for four, starting in… Winnipeg.” She cringed at the thought. If she wasn’t convinced he was struggling already, he surely would be after having to go to Winnipeg for the second time within thirty days. 

There was a long silence between them. Mikko wouldn’t quite meet her gaze and his jaw tightened. He didn't like something she had said.

“I get it,” Lucy sighed, “I’ve never been in your position, but I’ve seen a lot of guys who have. Starting over in a new city, in a new system all the while wearing a jersey that doesn’t feel like your own. You sleep like shit, and then your appetite goes–” 

Mikko cut her off, his words sharp. “Didn’t realize nutritionists doubled as therapists here.”

“Therapist? No,” Lucy shook her head, “Just concerned. Looked like you needed a little reminder that you’re human.” 

Mikko simply blinked at her. His lips parted only to close again as he straightened up in his seat. “Alright,” he cleared his throat, “what do you want from me?”

“Three meals a day. Two snacks. One smoothie. Real foods– things with fiber, fat, protein, color. Drink literally anything. Water. BodyArmor. Put diet Coke in your water bottle, I don’t care as long as you’re drinking something. And check in with me once a week.” She paused, then added, “And start treating your body like it didn’t just get traded. It’s still yours.”

Lucy slid another sheet of paper into his folder. It was a suggested meal plan that she didn’t really expect him to follow. Many players didn’t – they had their own personal chefs, or wives, that took care of that for them. But it was neatly laid out for him, and annotated, with his name written in her tidy cursive at the top of the page. And in the bottom corner, hidden behind the hold of the folder, a message for him in faded blue ink:

You didn’t choose to be here, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. – Lu

Mikko picked up the finger, reading it over slowly and she watched as his thumb brushed over her message at the bottom of the page. For a moment, he sat there in silence, his bright eyes fixed on the page.  Then, finally he spoke quietly: “This is the first thing that’s made me feel like this will work out.”

Lucy smiled softly when she answered, “We want you here Mikko. That’s why you’re here. But for this to work out, you’re going to need to want it to. You don’t have to know how everything’s going to happen now. But I am going to ask you to do one thing for me, right now.”

“What’s that?” he smirked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. 

“Go eat a real meal, dammit.”

***

February 1st, 2025

Lucy always found a certain comfort in what others saw as chaos when it came to pregame prep. There were different routines from the ones she had set for off days. There was no time for inventory and rarely an opportunity for one on one meeting with the players. They had to focus on their pregame routines, and Lucy, she focused on everything else. Hydration. Post practice meals – and pre game meals for those who didn’t have arrangements at home. Lucy also made sure the room was stocked with anything extra the players may need from a quick to assuring everything from mustard packets to snacks would be prepared by the team chef for the first intermission. 

She was scribbling her pen across her checklist, trying to get the black ink to bleed out onto the page instead of leaving nothing but faint impressions on the page, when the first wave of players rolled in. With them was Seth Jarvis, who went straight to the fridge and made a satisfied hum when he found that his favourite yogurt had already been stocked. 

“Thanks Luce!” he called out to her, and she forced a smile to hide the grimace that threatened to take her features. 

She hated that nickname.

Hearing it never failed to make her feel like the toothless, pudgy child that got bullied on the playground – someone she never really outgrew, who she kept buried deep down inside. It was almost enough to pull her from the comfort of her pregame routine, her mind slipping into doubt that someone like her didn’t belong there – even though the players had never left her feeling unwelcome. 

Lucy took a breath, her eyes focusing on the page and the impact of footsteps against the floor. She tried to let the familiar sounds calm her, to pull her back from her insecurity, only to fall in too deep to notice someone standing right beside her. 

“Morning,” Mikko said softly, but his words still left her lurching in surprise. 

A single hand raised to rest over her chest, as if it could calm her racing heart. Lucy looked up at him just as he held out her sparkling purple smoothie cup, rinsed and clean. 

“Morning,” she replied, taking it with a smile that was no longer forced, “I can’t tell if you’re returning the cup or silently asking me to make you another smoothie,” she teased him. 

“Returning it,” he clarified and reached out across the counter for one of the disposable smoothie cups they kept on hand, “as for the smoothie, I think I can take it from here, Luce.”

Lucy stiffened, her shoulders rising and falling with a heavy breath as if to silently cry: Oh no, no him too. She hovered there, awkwardly near the counter as Mikko stood beside her, towering over the smoothie bar. His shoulders were slouching forward as he scanned over the different beverage containers and the neat labels she had given each of them – almond milk, oat, cashew – as if one would call out to him, telling him exactly what belonged in the drink she had made him before. 

Lucy leaned in a little closer, dropping her voice low. “If you promise to never call me Luice again, I’ll tell you what I put in the smoothie.”

Mikko glanced at her out of the corner of his bright eyes, his face softening. And just when Lucy thought he was going to question her about it, he didn’t. Instead, he obliged. “Alright. We’ll just have to find a new nickname for you then, Lucy.”

Her chest fluttered in a way that Lucy couldn't quite explain. It wasn’t anxiety, and it wasn’t her beginning to spiral. With his simple words, Mikko had done something no man had done in a long time – he made her feel heard. Valid. Maybe even special. 

“It was almond milk,” she offered, “don’t forget the cinnamon, and today, maybe add the kale – or spinach. You know, just for the extra boost before the  game against the Kings tonight.”

When she glanced up at him, Mikko gave her a small smile, his eyes soft as he scooped frozen bananas into the blender. “Thanks, Lulu.” 

“Lulu?” she raised a brow. Her head cocked as he blended up the smoothie, the whirl of the blades leaving no room for conversation. When the air went quiet with nothing more than the rumble of conversation heard as he poured the smoothie into his cup, Mikko smiled down at her. 

“Lulu, I like,” he smiled, “you like?” 

“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, “actually, I do. Thanks.” Her gaze dropped to the dirty countertop, and she was quick to fall into the habit of making sure the prep space was neat and tidy for the next player that required it. But then she froze, quickly turning in place to stop Mikko before he could join the rest of the players in the seating area where they had first met. “Mikko, wait.”

He stopped on the other side of the counter, his lips wrapped around his straw as he took a sip. His eyes were wide, questioning what she was calling out to him for without saying a word. 

“If I don’t see you before puck drop, good luck today,” Lucy smiled. 

His lips, stilled wrapped around his straw, curled up at the corners. Whatever version of Mikko this was, it was better than the one she had seen in her office the day before. A little less tired, and a little happier to be that – and maybe, just maybe she had been a motivator behind that. 

***

Staying until the game was finished wasn’t something that was expected of Lucy. But with the upcoming road trip she wanted to make sure everything was done before the team hit the road. Lucy made her final confirmation emails with the team’s hotels and the caterers that would be serving them while on the road all from the tranquility of her office. It was quiet there, even with the almost 19,000 fans in attendance, she could only hear them after the blare of the goal horn. 

Lucy had only heard it twice during the night as she worked, and she didn’t hear the cheers that came with the storm surge at the end of the game which told her all she really needed to know about the game: The Hurricanes lost. 

Packing her bag, Lucy shut down for the night and moved through the lower levels of the arena, with the intention of one last look in the kitchen to assure the lights were off for the night – and to maybe steal a snack from the fridge for the ride home. The corridors were mostly empty already. Players and staff were always quick to leave the rink after a loss when morale was low. But she could still hear showers echoing in the distance sending a scent of what smelt to be eucalyptus soap into the air with the scent of rubber and sweat that forever lingered there. With the doors in sight before her, Lucy became excited by the idea of fresh air – but then she heard it, a loud bang from the locker room. 

Pausing in place, Lucy looked up and down the corridor cautiously. For a moment she had thought she imagined the sound, but it quickly became clear that she may have been the only one around to hear it. Everyone else had gone home. Slowly, she moved to the entrance of the locker room. It wasn’t somewhere she went often, only when she was required, and it felt almost intrusive to hover there waiting for the source of the noise to make itself known. And when it didn’t present itself to her, Lucy sighed. 

“Hello? Is there anyone still in there?” She called out, and received nothing in return. 

Lucy looked up and down the length of the corridor one more time, looking for a stray hockey stick or hockey skate to arm herself with as she muttered to herself under her breath. “Why does this have to feel like a goddamn horror movie?”

She found nothing, but even with her courage weaning, she knew she had to enter the locker room. “Alright, I’m coming in!” Was Lucy’s final warning before she entered the room and found only one player remaining. 

Mikko sat at the far end, his head in his hands, damp curls falling between his fingers and down onto his knuckles. His gear was off and long ago packed away by the team, but he had a broken stick at his feet and a wet towel draped around his neck. His whole posture sagged under an invisible weight that he had been carrying around since he arrived in Raleigh. The loss had only added to it. 

“Mikko,” she said softly, “you’re going to have to give a girl a warning next time you want to break things. I thought I was about to get whacked in here.” 

There was a playfulness in her tone as she spoke, but it didn’t phase Mikko. He remained in his seat, unmoving – Hell, he didn’t even look up at her. He only seemed to sigh, the heavy weight of it rocking his tense shoulders. 

“I know I’m not exactly the right kind of person to give a past-game pep talk,” Lucy spoke slowly as she crossed the floor - careful not to step on the team logo in the middle of the floor - and sat on the bench next to him in the stall labeled J. Blake. “But when I have a shit day at work, I like a drink and a good meal.”

Mikko didn’t move. 

“There’s this place not far from here. Comfort food, low lighting, strong drinks. I think you’d love it. It’d hit the spot if it were me.”

Lucy reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone to pull up the restaurant details for him to take down. She was typing it into Google when his voice stopped her. 

“Would you take me?” he asked, his eyes still fixated on the ground in front of her, but his hands had dropped from his face. One had found its place on the bench right next to hers. So close, she could feel his heat radiating from him. 

Lucy froze, her teeth coming down on her lower lip as she considered his request. 

She wasn’t supposed to fraternize with the players. She knew that. Lines were made – some so clear that they were involved in her contract. 

But Mikko, he looked so alone. How could she say no? 

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Sure, Let’s go.”

***

Lucy didn’t like to brag, but when she did it was often because one of her closest friends owned one of the hottest restaurants in Raleigh. It meant she got a table even on the busiest of nights, and it was always the same one. Tucked into the corner, just big enough for two, was her quiet table. Lucy had only ever eaten there alone, eating whatever her friend would bring out to her. But it was different with Mikko joining her. It had earned a raised brown from the hostess, and whispers from the bartenders as they passed. Word would soon reach the kitchen that she wasn’t alone, but that she was in the company of one of the NHL’s biggest superstars. 

Carolina wasn’t the biggest hockey market, but they had been selling out home games for as long as she could remember. And with Necas being traded away in the multi-team deal with Mikko and Hall, she was sure the 6 '4 hockey forward would be well recognized – even in the dim light. 

The thought kept Lucy tense as they sat together at the table, silently looking over their menus like it was an awkward blind date until the waiter arrived asking about drink orders. 

Mikko looked up over the corner of his menu at her, an eyebrow raised up, as if to silently ask if he would get in trouble for indulging himself in a drink. 

Lucy stifled a laugh. 

“As long as you make it to practice tomorrow, I don’t care what you drink,” Lucy assured him. 

“Gin and tonic,” Mikko said after a moment. 

Lucy smiled as she looked up at the waiter, “Lemon drop, please.”

If she had a signature drink, a lemon drop would be it. Both sweet and sour, fun and bright – and while Lucy didn’t know Mikko well, she was sure a gin and tonic was his; Classic, smart, serious even. But it only took one drink for Lucy to meet the real Mikko. 

By his second drink, Mikko was worlds away from the tired, slumped over, recently traded hockey player she had met mere days ago. His voice came alive with a hint of laughter as he spoke. He sat up straight, almost proudly in his seat across from her as he raved about the appetizers that were brought out to them by the staff without having to be ordered – Yet again one of the many perks of knowing the chef. He knew exactly what she liked. And his wit led to a real laughter that Lucy could feel deep in her own chest, something like a flutter. 

If they were on a date, it would have been going well. But it wasn’t. Lucy wasn’t trying to make Mikko fall in love with her – but the city, and she was sure it was working, one bite at a time. 

The chef sent out food, plate after plate. Small servings made with care for the two of them to get a taste of all he had to offer. One bite, then another, just enough to leave them wanting more before they were presented with a small dessert menu. 

“Oh no,” she shook her head at the waiter, “I really shouldn’t.”

Mikko leaned forward with a lopsided smile that left her brain short circuiting. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. But the light caught his eye, uncovered its mischievous gleam as he spoke. “Let’s share just one,” he said with a wink, “I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t.” 

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Lucy hesitated. She could already feel the familiar uneasiness of guilt on the depth of her stomach. The smaller portion sizes made her feel a little better about what she had eaten, but dessert? Just the thought was enough to leave her teetering on the edge of spiralling. Just one more bite would have been enough to have her call her therapist in the morning – But Mikko was looking at her with such happiness in his eyes that she didn’t want to be the one to extinguish it. So she nodded. 

They shared a single slice of cranberry cheesecake. Its flavors were unlike anything she had tasted before. Lucy almost melted back into her seat, her head lulling back as she enjoyed each note. With each bite she swore she could taste something more: the tartness of the cranberry, a little hint of citrus and then a hint of rosemary too. It was unlike anything she could have imagined – and Mikko seemed to enjoy it too, as he licked the last morsel of cheese cake off his thumb. 

“That was,” Lucy breathed out. 

“Incredible,” Mikko finished her words, Lucy could only hum in agreement, as she sat there her eyes shut as the relished in the flavors that lingered on her tongue. 

She sat there in the darkness of her mind for so long that she didn’t notice when the server returned with the bill.  The bill that Mikko paid for in full without even questioning her. 

“Hey,” Lucy half snapped, “you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know,” Mikko nodded, his smile a little bigger now as she stood up from the table and offered her his hand. 

Lucy took it carefully, her mind screaming this is not a date at her as she maintained her casual composure. She followed Mikke through the restaurant, the crowd thinning as it grew closer and closer to the closing team. He led her out into the street that was left cold and quiet in the night. 

They walked together under the glow of the street lights, his hand never leaving hers as he walked her back towards the rental car they had arrived in. When they reached it, they stood together by the passenger side. She wondered for a moment if he was going to open the door for her. But then he stepped a little closer… a little too close. 

Mikko opened his mouth. Then shut it again his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back any words he had thought to say, and then when Lucy thought nothing would come, Mikko found his words. 

“This is the first time since I arrived in Raleigh,” his words were so quiet they were almost lost in the rush of a car as it drove down the street. Lucy had to lean into him at a dangerous proximity just to hear him. “This is the first time that I haven’t felt alone, and it’s because of you, Lulu.”

Her new nickname hits her like a strong wind over her face. Lucy felt like she was suffocating as she stood there, her hand squeezing his just a little tighter suddenly worried that he might come to his senses and  pull away. But he didn’t. Mikko only flexed his hand around her in return, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he used that comforting hold to draw her in. 

They met at the lips, Lucy having to press up on her toes just to meet him. She had never considered herself short, but Mikko, he made her feel small for the first time in as long as she could remember. 

Mikko’s hand fell from hers slowly, only to find the curve of her waist and hold her to him as he kissed her. It was a slow, tentative kiss. Not frantic or hungry, but cautious as Lucy kissed him back. 

She knew it was a bad idea. Having dinner with Mikko toed the line, but kissing him? It was far from professional. It wasn’t smart, and if anyone ever found out, it would surely cost Lucy her job. But Lucy couldn’t bring herself to pull away. 

Lucy could only cling to him, her hands clutching to the fabric of his shirt as her lips parted. She breathed in the taste of him, the lingering flavors of cranberry and gin sending a shiver through her body. It started in her spin, sending a radiating heat from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. The feeling left her gasping against Mikko’s lips, her heart racing as she pulled back just enough to glance up at him. 

It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel the wav he had, and she couldn’t help but feel that alcohol might have been the driver behind it all. She had three drinks of her own, but she had always held her liquor well, but she didn’t know how Mikko had fared. He had four drinks of his own, so he had to be intoxicated, right? She squinted against the bright light of the street light that was lit behind him like a halo, her eyes searching for any indication that Mikko wasn’t sober. But what she found was a man looking at her with bedroom eyes and a soft smile. 

“Come back to my hotel with me?” Mikko asked, his tone almost pleading. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

The realization made her chest ache. Mikko had arrived in Raleigh days ago. He had only played four games with a team of strangers, and for whatever reason Mikko failed to find solace in the locker room. But he seemed to have found it with her. 

Lucy refused to let him go. 

“Yeah, okay” Lucy breathed out, her hand slipping away from the grasp they had on his shirt. “I’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow.”

Mikko’s hands fell away from her body, and for the first time that night Lucy realized just how cold it was. Her arms coiled around her chest, trying to keep the warmth of his body from leaving her completely as he stepped back and opened the passenger side door for her. 

They drove back to his hotel in silence. The air was thick with words left unspoken, but things didn’t feel heavy. Mikko was relaxed behind the wheel, one hand on the wheel as the other casually dropped to rest on her knee. It was the most relaxed Lucy had seen him since he had arrived, and she could do nothing but stare. His comfort and ease was magnetic, attractive and it lured her all the way back to his hotel room. 

Mikko led her by the hand, his soft gaze cast over his shoulder as he led her to the foot of the bed that hadn’t been touched since housekeeping had made it. His stare lingered, on her face, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was looking for. Approval? Excitement? Panic, maybe? 

But he saw nothing but stoic calmness on her features. It was a practiced look, one she had mastered back in high school when her friends would give her compliments disgusted as insults. It wasn’t the feeling of hurt that she was masking this time. Instead she was concealing so much more. 

Eagerness. 

Uncertainty. 

Insecurity. 

They were all so consuming, Lucy was sure Mikko could feel her hands tremble in his. He held them until he sat down at the end of the bed, the bed sinking under his weight as he made himself comfortable there. Then, his touch settled on the swell of her hips, stoking over them as his fingers teased the waist of her jeans that felt a little too tight after dinner.

Lucy held her breath as his fingers came to pinch at each side of the button fly. 

“Can I?” Mikko asked, his voice so deep she almost hadn’t heard him. 

Lucy nodded quickly before her better judgment could threaten to take her. She bit back the sigh of relief that came with them being undone, their impression left behind across her belly and thighs. Lucy squirmed in place, pressing her thighs firm together before relaxing at the feeling of him dragging the fabric down her legs slowly. The fabric teased her skin on the way down, sending her head lulling back and her eyes fell shut as it hit the ground in a heap around her ankles.  

When she moved to step out of them, her loafers fell from her feet, and she moved to stand right beside the clothes Mikko had discarded. Instead, his hands were on her hips, hiding her to straddle one of his thighs. 

“Mikko I-” She started to protest, but was cut off by the hunger of his lips.

The tension of her body was eased by the lack of caution in his kiss. She was left melting down against his thigh as she tasted his tongue in her mouth as it stroked along her own. No one had ever kissed her like that. 

Like she wasn’t the last resort when all of her better looking friends already had someone to go home with – Like he really wanted to. 

Gasping she drew back, her hands finding his cheeks to cradle. Lucy forced him to look at her – to really look at her – to see her for who she was. Not only the team’s dietician, but the girl that too often skipped breakfast because of her own haunting words of insecurity in her head. 

She wasn’t skinny. 

She wasn’t blonde. 

She was nothing like any of the other hockey wives or girlfriends she had ever seen parading around Lenovo Centre. And while she didn’t think that would ever be a possibility for her – for them – she didn’t want Mikko to regret a night in bed with her... Because she didn’t think she could handle the rejection that would come after.  

“Are you sure?” She asked him slowly, her stomach jumping up into her throat. 

Mikko didn’t answer with his words. Instead, he held her stare as his hands settled on her hips. He gripped the soft flesh there tight, slowly hiding her along the strength of his thigh. 

Lucy’s lips parted in a gasp. The cotton of her patties tugged back and forth with the movement, as he guided her cunt over his flexed quad. His hands remained on her hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her ass, only until he knew she had fallen into the rhythm all on her own. Then, his hands found her face again, guiding her lips back into his. 

He was kissing her slowly, almost teasingly. And only did he stop when Lucy let out her first moan. She had tried to swallow it, but her panties had caught, and the harshness of his denim jeans against her clit had been too much for her to contain. 

“Keep going,” he encouraged, “you sound so pretty when you like something.”

Lucy watched him through thick lashes, fighting to keep her eyes open as she dragged her core up and down the expanse of his thigh. She could feel her thighs beginning to ache – so close to trembling – and her core felt weak, already so close to coming. 

She fought it off with a deep breath, only to be pushed right back to the edge as Mikko slipped a single finger into her panties. It struck her clit, sending a shock through her body, but it didn’t stay there. He dragged her panties to the side carefully, leaving her bare cunt to drag over his leg. 

Mikko leaned back slowly, propped up on his elbows as his eyes feasted on the sight of her. 

She could feel her arousal soaking into his jeans, and she was sure he could too. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Mikko cuased and it stilled her. 

She couldn’t have heard that right. 

“What?” her word was a barely audible gasp as Mikko sat up so effortlessly her own abs hurt. 

Fuck, it must have been nice to be built like a fucking god. 

“You, Lucy,” Mikko hummed, his hands finding her hips again, “are beautiful. You don’t hear that enough, do you?” 

Lucy could only shake her head as Mikko guided her up off his thigh, and lay her out on the bed. Slowly, he lowered himself down on the bed between her legs, a smile on his lips as he placed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. 

“Let me show you, yes?”

“Yes,” Lucy gasped weakly as he placed another, sloppier, opened mouth kiss on her upper thigh. 

Mikko kissed his way up to the apex between her thighs. Then her legs began to truly tremble. It was enough to make her whine as she reached out with both hands to knit in his thick golden curls. 

Her touch drew Mikko in closer, his hot breath blossoming over her sweet, glistening core just long enough for it to throb with desperation. Then, as if he could feel her desperation coursing through her veins, he knocked her legs open and indulged in the very taste of her. Mikko’s face was buried there, his tongue parting her before delving inside her. 

Lucy hissed through her teeth, her hands guiding him to just the right spot. She tested him with the simple roll of her hips, and helmet her. She ground against her mouth and tongue, the pleasure slowly beginning to pulse through her. So close to falling over the edge of her climax only for Mikko to pull back.

He could feel it, the gentle throbbing of her core. She knew he had to. Because he was teasing her now. 

Mikko wanted her to come. 

He wanted to make her come. 

But it would need to be on his cock. 

The bed felt lighter as he pushed himself off it, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. She could hear him rustling through a bag in the next room. When he returned he was completely naked, with a condom already stretched out over his impressive cock – hell, what about him wasn’t impressive?

Slowly, he crawled up the length of the bed until he was hovering over her. One hand rested on each side of her head, and she watched as the muscles of his shoulders flexed. He was so strong, so built, that in that moment she admired him – trying to ignore the feeling of his cock dragging over her thigh – he made her feel small. 

Mikko noticed, and he smiled, his lips and chin left  slick with saliva and with her. 

He held her gaze as he reached down between them, two thick fingers pressing against her clit. It left her moaning as they moved in a slow, agonizing circle, and he swallowed the sound in a kiss. Her self heaved as his fingers parted her, clearing the way for his cock. Her pleasure coiled deep in her belly, his skin glistening with perspiration and leaving her desperate to pull off her own blouse. 

She tugged at the fabric as she threw her head back against the pillows. Her eyes shut tight as she fidgeted with each too-tiny button only for them all to be free with one calculated pull from Mikko’s hands. 

He freed her from the confines of her shirt, and tugged down the cups of her bra with one hand. It sat awkwardly on her rib cage as he watched her breasts quake with his every thrust. Mikko watched them with a sparkle in his eyes, and he spoke out a string of words she would never understand. 

Her body. The pleasure of feeling her around him, had reduced Mikko back to his mother tongue. 

Lucy melted away beneath him, her legs intertwined with his holding him in place when she was sure he wanted to lean in and devour her breast – but she was so close now, she wasn’t going to let him edge her again. 

Reaching her arms around him, she anchored herself on the strength of his shoulders. Her nails dug into their strength, leaving a small crescent behind as the roll of his hips became more desperate. 

She met his every movement, and it left her trembling as her climax throbbed through her. Her head leaned back in a moan that left her throat raw, but Mikko drew her back in,his fingers knotting in her short dark hair as he guided her face into the crook of his neck. She kissed it slowly, her tongue stroking alone it’s angry before she moaned again. 

Then, she felt him angle his face just right, burying it into her hair. She felt his every breath as it hastened. He thrust deeper, faster, desperately, until his cock throbbed and he stilled deep inside her, the only thing separating him from the deepest parts of her a thin layer of latex. 

Lucy was left breathless when they were through, sprawled out on the bed. Tired, happy, but not quite smiling. 

Mikko eased himself from her slowly, but he didn’t go far. He just rolled over, occupying the bed beside her, and just watched her. His sartre was dreaming, and his smile was soft. 

Suddenly, Lucy was self conscious. 

Reaching out for the top sheet, Lucy draped it over her body carefully. It hid the blouse that she would never get to wear again unless she fixed the button. It hid the bra that now hung low, just beneath her breasts, and how her panties were still on, completely soaked but tucked up between one of her thighs and her pelvis. He had seemed to want her so desperately, yet, she couldn’t rid herself of the heavy feeling in her chest. 

“Mikko,” she croaked, “do you really think I’m beautiful?”

Mikko sat up slowly as he reached out with both hands. He helped her out of her blouse slowly. Then he peeled off her bra before slipping down the length of the bed to tug off her panties. He left her completely naked – vulnerable – in her bed, and kissed his way back up her body before he found her lips in a simple kiss. 

“Absolutely, I do,” Mikko assured her, and then he was gone. 

Lucy just lay there in his bed, listening to Mikko as he moved around the hotel room. She didn’t know what exactly he was doing, she didn’t think to look, but then she heard the subtle click of the light switch, and he was crawling back into the bed right next to her. 

She cuddled in close to him, her head on his chest as she looked across at the bright glow of the hotel room clock. She let herself smile softly, feeling special for the first time in a long time. And the best part? She didn’t have to be up early for work in the morning. 

***

March 6th, 2025

The hotel room had long stopped feeling temporary. If anything, it became Lucy’s second home as she sat cross-legged on Mikko’s bed with her laptop balanced on her bare thighs. The screen was glowing softly in the dim light as she scrolled through real estate listings. Scattered all around the room were little glimmers of her life that had crept their way into Mikko’s hotel room that felt a little more like an apartment. 

On the windowsill was a plant that she purchased at a local farmers market that never made it back home. In the corner of the room was a pile of dirty laundry that continued to grow as – as her clothes were always replaced by one of his t-shirts that fit just right. She kept telling herself she at the very least needed to stuff it in a bag in the back seat of her car. Her half-finished smoothie was on the nightstand, forming a ring of condensation where it sat, and her cardigan was draped over the back of the desk chair like she lived there.

And in some ways, maybe she did. 

“Can you pass me the laptop charger, it’s just there,” Lucy pointed to the bedside table as her laptop gave her the error message that her battery was about to die. 

The bed shifted as Mikko sprawled out across the bed for the charger, and when he rolled over to hand it to her, he placed a simple kiss on her shoulder. 

“Looking at real estate again?” Mikko asked. 

His question was a heavy sigh, but it didn’t phase her. They had been inseparable since the beginning of February and she had heard him sigh many times before. He sighed when the hotel bed was too hard, and the pillow too soft. After a tough game, and he reached out over the centre console to drive back to the hotel with his hand on her knee, he would sigh too. But her favorite sighs that she had heard were when he was between her thighs. 

“Just checking to see if there is anything new,” Lucy said.

Casually, Lucy scrolled to the top of the page where the new listing had been. “I book marked a few not too far from the area if you want to take a–”

Mikko’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. He was quick to answer, sitting arched over at the bedside before he stood, mouthing, “one sec.”

Lucy nodded, watching from the corner of her eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom. She didn’t follow him. She didn’t listen. Didn’t eavesdrop.  She just kept scrolling though the listings, his voice low and quiet in the next room. 

When he returned a few minutes later, he offered her nothing more than a soft smile. 

No reason, or explanation for the late night phone call as he crawled into bed. 

Lucy didn’t press. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. 

Whatever the phone called entailed, it was private. And she wasn’t privy to anything like that. She wasn’t his wife, or his girlfriend. She didn’t know what she was. 

“You ready for bed, Lulu?” Mikko asked slowly, his hand brushing over her bare knee slowly to make sure he had her attention. 

“You don’t want to take a look at this one?” Lucy countered, “Three-bedroom in North Hills. Could walk to the market and has a big kitchen–”

Mikko rolled over slowly so that his back was to her and away from the glowing light of the screen. He didn’t look at the house, or at her. 

He was quiet. Tired, maybe. But completely uninterested in the houses she had saved to show him. 

“I have an early start tomorrow,” Mikko mumbled, his face half squished into the pillow. “Lay with me?”

Lucy closed her laptop slowly, and placed it down on the bed side table before reaching out and turning off the lights. In the cover of darkness, she crawled under the covers and settled in behind him. Her body formed to his so casually, her cheek coming to rest on the strength of his back as her knees tucked in behind his. Her arm lay lazily over his middle, and the blanket rustled as his hand found hers beneath the blanket. He stroked it slowly with his thumb before upbringing it up to his lips in a sweet kiss. 

“Goodnight, Lulu,” he hummed. 

“Night,” Lucy answered, but she didn’t sleep. Not right away. 

Instead, she lay there watching as his body rocked with his every deep and even breath. She admired how his blonde hair curled against the pillow, and swallowed back a sigh as he rolled over and consumed her in a strong embrace. 

Mikko held her close, his touch enough to ease her mind and lull her to sleep. 

***

March 7th, 2025 

Mikko was still holding her when her alarm went off at five the next morning. It was a time she loathed waking up, but was essential when she knew she had to make multiple stops on her way to the rink. 

Carefully, she eased Mikko’s heavy arm off her. She didn’t know what he deemed an early start, but she didn’t want to wake him before his own alarm went off. 

She moved through the room slowly. Gathering her dirty clothes that she knew needed washing, and her bag, before she snuck out the door. 

Lucy made two stops before going to the arena. First, was to her apartment where her house plants were wilting and her bed was still made. She tossed her dirty laundry on the foot of the bed before pulling open her half-empty closet. If she wanted to wear anything presentable she needed to do laundry. It took two hours to run the washer and the dryer. And while that annoyed her, it gave her time to hop in the shower before dressing in her clean clothes. Her second stop was the little cafe down the block from her apartment. 

It was after nine when Lucy walked into Lenovo Centre with her purse in one hand and her coffee in the other. Her hair was still wet and her makeup was not done. She would do it at her desk before the rest of the staff got in and her day got busy. 

The arena felt colder than usual. 

It left Lucy tugging her coat a little tighter around her shoulders as she slipped inside the staff entrance. Her sneakers squeaked against the freshly mopped floors as she navigated the familiar path to her office. She could hear the hum of the zamboni in the distance as the ice was prepped for the optional practice that day. She knew not many would take it, because it was trade deadline day. 

While most players would be at home with their families hoping not to get a phone call from their agent, Lucy would be hiding in her office and waiting for emails to come her way about onboarding and forwarding player files to their new teams. 

The first notification came around when she had finished fixing her makeup in reflection of her own webcam. The team had received Mark Jankowski from the Nashville Predators in exchange for a 5th round pick. Which made her job easy. She would receive and review his files by the end of the day, and she didn’t have to rush to send anything off. 

With each passing out, the day felt more and more like a day she was going to spend catching up on emails. That was until four in the afternoon, when she was slowly beginning to pack things away. The chime of an email arriving in her inbox almost made her jump. 

The subject of the new email was in bold, highlighting its importance: WELCOME LOGAN STANKOVEN.

The contents of the email directed to her were brief: Start onboarding ASAP. 

Lucy exhaled, her fingers reaching up to push through her messy hair as she tried to remember where she had heard that name before. It took her a moment before it hit her. Logan Stankoven was one of the Dallas Stars rookie players. From what she could remember he was fast, skilled. He was a great acquisition for the Canes who liked to play smart and fast hockey. But at what cost? 

She scrolled through the email again. Looking for a name or draft pick to jump out at her, but found nothing. There was no note. No Memo. No explanation for what they lost. 

Her stomach twisted. 

She reached for her laptop, and opened X with a single click. As trash as the app was, it was always the easiest to find the latest hockey news right from the source or from a hockey insider. She chewed her cheek nervously as she scrolled, trying to find the breaking headline she was sure to see. 

Then, there it was, right from the Dallas Stars themselves:

Lucy stared at the post, reading it over and over again until her eyes burned and her vision was blurred by tears. She blinked hard, trying to rid them from her eyes to clear her vision. As if then she would see the post for what it really said, and not as she imagined it. She wiped her eyes with her fists and it all came into focus. What she thought she imagined, was reality. 

Mikko was gone.

Shoving her chair back, Lucy stood, and made her way door the corridors to the locker room. With each step she prayed that she heard something, anything, to indicate that maybe he was still there. But when she peaked her head inside, the room was completely empty. 

Lucy looked up and down the corridor once before slipping inside. Her steps were small as she shuffled her way to the empty stall that was once Mikkos. His gear was gone, and his nameplate removed. She could already see Roslivic’s nameplate had returned to bear the number 96 as if Mikko hadn’t been there at all. 

All that remained in his stall was what he left for her; her small potted plant and her laptop. 

She grabbed it quickly, hoping no one had seen it there before she could grab it. It wouldn’t have been hard to explain – she had always been a good liar – but she didn’t know if she could. Not now. Not when she was so close to tears. 

She choked them back with an ease that came with many years of practice. She held her laptop to her chest, and cradled the plant in one hand as she carried them back to her office where she would prepare the onboarding for their newest member. 

But for hours, all she could do was sit there. The glow of her computer screen illuminating her face as she just stared at the potted plant on her desk and asked herself how she could let herself get in over her head. 

He was just a player. 

They were never anything serious. 

Yet, her heart was breaking. 

Because it wasn’t just a trade; it was an ending she never saw coming. 

***

Rantanen traded to stars by Hurricanes, signs 9-year, $96 millon contract  – Carolina unable to sign forward after acquiring him from Avalanche in January; gets Stankoven, picks…

***

March 8th, 2025

The plane hit the tarmac hard, sending a jolt through Mikko’s body and pulling him from his sleep. His neck ached from how it had been angled for the majority of his three hour flight from Montreal – and the rest of his body ached from his day of traveling from Raleigh to Montreal to Edmonton. He had spent the entirety of his day in the air or at airports just to make sure he could meet his new team before their next game. 

Edmonton wasn’t his new home, but meeting Dallas there filled Mikko with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

This trade was different. 

This trade wasn’t him getting cast aside by a team that felt more like a family than a career. He got to influence where he went – back to the West Coast – with a team that wanted to sign him long term. And they had, Dallas would be his home for 8 years and his first game was mere hours away. 

He kept his headphones on and his head down as he moved with the crowd off the flight and to the baggage claim where his gear, hockey sticks and his life that was packed into a single suitcase waited for him. Everything else was scattered between Denver and Raleigh, or was boxed up en route to Dallas. 

Mikko’s hand flexed around the handle of his bag, his palm sweating at the thought of dawning victory green for the first time against Edmonton. They were more than just rivals. Edmonton had knocked Dallas out of the playoffs the season before, The game was going to be an all out war leading up to the Stanley Cup Playoffs where a rematch was a likely possibility. 

This year, he was going to be the difference maker. 

The weight of the fresh start was heavy on his chest. It wasn’t just what the reporters and the team that expected of him, but what he expected of himself. While he knew he would need to earn it, he wanted to be a voice in the locker room and the bench. Someone other players looked to for leadership and as a friend. He wanted to get pucks to the net, and his name on the score sheet. But most of all, he was going to matter again. 

***

The locker room buzzed with shouting voices and the clatter of sticks as the team lined up in the tunnel, preparing to take the ice in Edmonton. The logo on his chest was different now – the star of Dallas stretched across it, and for a second he looked down and stared. Breathing in, he took in a heavy breath, his hand reaching up to tug at the jersey collar that felt tight around his throat. He was nervous, superstitious maybe, his mind lingering on everything that had gone wrong since he arrived at Rogers place. 

When he first arrived, he had met with the equipment manager to talk about his gloves, and how they needed to be just right. Yet, they still felt damp after warmups. He would already need them replaced again. 

And his pregame meal? Chicken, rice and vegetables were prepared by the caterer. It was all textbook, covering everything he would need going into a game. But the rice was salty, and the chicken was bland and dry. He had to choke it down before he gave up on finishing it. 

Then he had tried to make a smoothie, just like Lulu used to make, but the blender had given him a dark green sludge that tasted more like vegetables than the banana, and peanut butter he craved before the game. 

It left Mikko’s jaw clenched and stomach growling. 

Lulu wouldn't have screwed it up. 

Not his dinner. 

And definitely not the smoothie. 

Lulu lingered in the back of his mind as he stepped out on the ice, the roar of the crowd sending a rush of adrenaline through him, but there was no ignoring the ache that he felt deep in his chest. 

It lingered there until the final seconds of the 3rd period, when he had an assist on the score sheet but the team still lost to Edmonton 5-4. 

Mikko had done what he wanted to do, he’d shown up and had already begun to prove that the trade to Dallas wasn’t a mistake. It was a good first game – but he missed her anyway.

***

March 9th, 2025

After the plane had touched down in Vancouver,and the team had loaded up into the bus that would take them to the hotel, Mikko pulled out his phone for the first time since he had arrived in Edmonton.  The bright light contrasted the dark sky that consumed Vancouver in the blackness of night. It left Mikko squinting as he scrolled through the series of notifications – congratulations from friends, family and former teammates – but he was looking for one. 

A message that he didn’t deserve but hoped for. 

A text message from Lucy. 

The airbreaks of the bus hissed as they arrived at their hotel, and Mikko quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and threw his bag over his duffle bag over his shoulder. He shuffled off with the rest of the team, and listened to their tired chatter, to distract his mind from Lucy. The Captain, Jaime Benn was talking about a breakfast reservation for the team the next morning at one of his favorite brunch stops. Everyone was welcome, but not all heard the invitation that would surely be sent out as a text later, because the rookies were talking about Call of Duty – or maybe it was Fortnite, Mikko couldn’t really tell but it was some sort of video game. He should have eavesdropped. He should have indulged in conversation with one of the other Finnish players that instantly made the team feel a little more like home. But the thought of her was loud, screaming - craving to hear from her. 

After their night in his hotel room back in February, they had messaged each other every day. The two of them talked about everything from work to casual conversation that wasn’t all that casual now that he thought about it. He had clung to her in Carolina with the Hurricanes. She was his lifeline while he waited out the storm that was playing for a team he didn’t feel at home with. 

He had told himself it wasn’t anything serious, and it couldn’t be. Not when she was a player, and she worked for the team – but he wasn’t a member of the Carolina Hurricanes anymore… and he missed Lucy more than he thought he would. 

When he got the hotel room that he would be sharing with Roope Hints, Mikko dropped his things to the floor with a quiet thud. He had to remind himself it was just for the night when he looked around and saw the nearly identical layout as the hotel room back in Raleigh. Worst of all, it had the same smell: harsh chemicals mixed with the awful air freshener they used to try to mask it. 

The smell made his head hurt as he pulled off his sweatshirt and disappeared into the bathroom to wash up before bed. He brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cool water before slipping himself into something more comfortable. And when he returned to the main room, he crawled right into bed and turned off the bedside table light beside him – cutting off any opportunity for small talk before bed. 

Mikko lay there in silence, listening to Roope as he disappeared into the bathroom. He lay with his eyes closed, hearing the sound of the rushing water, and the light of the bathroom as it was flicked off. Roope’s footsteps were soft against the carpeted floor as he passed the foot of the bed and climbed into the second queen sized bed in the room. Then he waited, until the room was pitch black and all that could be heard was the rookies being too loud next door and Roope’s soft breathing. 

He was asleep. 

Mikko ran his hand slowly over the surface of the bed where Lucy would be sleeping if he had been back in Raleigh. His fingers strained against the cool fabric until he found his phone lost among the wrinkles of the duvet. 

He should have been more prepared for the screen's blinding light, but he was left flinching back at its intensity as his thumbs dragged over the screen, navigating its way to his text messages with Lucy. His eyes fixated on the last message they had exchanged, and suddenly his chest was tight.

Taking in a long inhale, Mikko tried to rid himself of the aching guilt that consumed him there. It twisted sharply like a knife because he knew he should have told her he was leaving because he knew. He knew the moment he saw his agent’s name on his call display as he sat right beside her in the hotel bed that he would be leaving. And when he left the bathroom, after their brief conversation, he knew where he was going. They were just waiting on the paper work, and the return. He should have warned her then instead of leaving her to see it on the team’s social media announcement like everyone else. 

What he felt though, wasn’t just guilt. It was something else too. Regret that he hadn’t said goodbye to her  before he left for the airport. And maybe, just maybe, he was grieving the thought of truly losing her and leaving the one good thing about Raleigh forever. 

Three dots appeared. Then, they disappeared. A minute passed, and his lungs burned as he held his breath. Waiting as they reappeared again. Lucy was going to reply.

He stared at the message until his screen dimmed. 

His heart sank as he typed something, only to delete it again. Mikko did this three times before he settled on something he was sure she would reply to. But when he hit send, Lucy didn’t reply. 

There were no dots. No reply. Just the small message below his own text: READ.

***

Edmonton Oilers vs Dallas StarsConference Final

Mikko sat at his stall in the dressing room, his hair sweat drenched from warmups sticking to his forehead as his head hung low on his shoulders. Around him, the team was loud as they hyped themselves up for game time. Some shouted, others jumped from one skate blade to the others, and the coach would be giving his pregame speech soon. There was chaos around him, but Mikko was focused on nothing but the tapping of his stick on the ground in front of him. 

It was game five. The stars were down in the series 4-1. If they lost tonight, they would be eliminated and his dream of winning a second Stanley cup would be over. 

Yet, all he could think about was the first game he had played with Dallas. It had been against Edmonton, but at Roger’s Palace. They had lost 5-4. He hadn’t performed the way he would have liked to that game, but since then? He had found himself again. 

And they were playing in Dallas now. 

They had home ice advantage. 

Dallas as a city and a team felt like home faster than expected. And with that comfort, he found his game again. In the playoffs alone he had twenty-one points in seventeen games, and he had been the reason they had won games they should have lost.  

They had beat his former team, Colorado in seven games. 

It had only taken six to beat Winnipeg. 

They wouldn’t be winning the series against Edmonton that night, but Mikko was determined for the series not to end. Not with them on the losing side. 

The coach finished his pregame speech and the locker room erupted into hoots and hollers as they all got to their feet and fell into a line. 

Adrenaline hit him like a wave, all consuming, almost suffocating as they made their way out towards the arena. The building seemed to rumble with the excitement of the crowd. If it were any other team, their confidence would have waivered, but Dallas was resilient. The voice of their Captain giving one last shout of encouragement was almost lost in the crowd's cheers as the team erupted from the tunnel and took to the ice. 

The lights were low as they sang both the American and Canadian national anthems, the adrenaline keeping him on his toes as the bright colored lances danced over the crowd, sending them a glow in victory green. When the lights went up, the fans roared louder than when they had arrived. 

They had to prove that they deserved to be in this series. That while Hintz was hiding the limp that game with breaking his foot, and Seguin was playing with an injured shoulder, that they were the tough team in this series. And Mikko? He could take the weight of carrying them to victory if he had to.

He was fighting just like the rest of them. 

This was his team. 

Not Colorado. 

Not Carolina. 

Dallas. 

He would prove that they made the right call trading for him.

They had to win. 

***

When the final horn sounded in American Airlines Center, Mikko skated right to the board by the bench and bent over it. His mouthguard hung loose from his lips, and his eyes were shut in a long, tired blink to keep himself from looking back at the ice. 

Behind him, the entire Edmonton Oilers bench had exploded onto the ice. They had won the game 6-3, sending them back to the Stanley cup final for the second time in two years. 

And his season was officially over. 

Mikko had done everything he could - his name on the score sheet again as he assisted on Jason Robertson’s goal midway through the third period. But it hadn’t been enough. Not when the goalie got pulled – not when everything that could have gone wrong seemed to all at once. 

The handshake line was a blur, his sportsmanship something done out of habit as he wished McDavid, Draisaitl and the rest luck in the finals. What they said to him, didn’t register. 

His mind was already lost as he walked back to the locker room, removing his gear out of muscle memory in a solemn silence. Mikko skipped the shower, choosing to get dressed sweaty in his suit just to go home. As he pulled on his pants he could already feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket. One notification after the next. He ignored them until he was seated in the front seat of his car, his head leaning back against his seat. 

Exhausted. 

Defeated. 

He read through each painful media notification of their loss, looking for one thing. 

A message from Lucy.

But there was nothing there.

He thumbed open the last conversation they shared. The one she had left on read for months. Mikko kept telling himself he would try again.

Tomorrow. 

Next week. 

After the playoff. 

He had no excuses now that his season was over. But he didn’t know what he could say. There were no words that he could say to justify what he had done. Even as they had lost, Mikko didn’t regret the trade. Or the extension. But he did regret one thing. 

Only One.

***

Stars stung by 3rd straight exit in Western Final with Game 5 loss – Can’t catch up to Oilers in 4 straight losses to end season

***

One Month Later… 

Craning her neck to the side, Lucy sandwiched her phone between her cheek and her ear and welcomed the worried tone of her best friend, Piper. While Piper was already at the airport drinking her overpriced coffee waiting for their flight to Cuba to board, Lucy was staring at a bottle of sun screen wondering if it would make it through security. She shook it in her hands, contemplating leaving it behind, before tossing it in a Ziplock bag with the rest of her questionable “liquid” items. Then she tossed it in her bag that was still open on her bed, spilling over with too many swim suits, linen dresses and the kind of sandals she was already regretting bringing but knew they would look amazing in her vacation photos. 

“I know I'm late,” Lucy groaned into the phone, hoping she might accidentally hang up on Piper's unimpressed hum as she flipped her suitcase closed and pressed it down to antiseptic the zipper along its track. “But I'll be there. My Uber is almost here – just don't board without me!” 

Piper's laughter echoed through the phone, “By the time you get here, I'll be on the beach at the resort drinking a Margarita. Because the traffic to get here was hell, babes.” 

Lucy cursed under her breath as she dragged her suitcase with two hands towards the door. “I’m gonna be there, P,” Lucy assured as she turned her door handle just enough to pull it from its hinge. She kicked her foot inside. And use it to pull the door open as she lunged for her sunglasses on the table by the front door and it left her stumbling out into the hallway and right into a moose of a human being. 

Her phone dropped, but her gaze traced up a familiar, muscular silhouette. 

“Mikko?” 

Lucy stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide and her heart pounding so hard in her ears that she almost could hear Piper calling out to her from the floor where her phone rested face down against the carpet. 

Mikko looked taller than she remembered, or maybe it was just the way he filled up the narrow hallway, looking so out of place in a space she never expected to see him. She had never invited him back to her place, they had always gone back to the hotel. Yet, there he was, with his messy blonde curls and soft blue eyes gazing at her just as they had the night before he left Raleigh – and it hit her. 

He knew.

He just couldn’t bring himself to tell her. 

Her stomach suddenly felt heavy as she knelt down, picking up her phone from the floor and muttering a quick, “I’ll have to call you back,” before hanging up.  

Lucy looked up at him, a heavy silence falling between them. Even after coming all the way to the door, Mikko seemed to struggle to find the words he wanted to say – and that hurt her more than him not telling her at all. 

“I have a flight to catch,” Lucy bit out in a strong moment of self confidence that wavered when Mikko finally spoke. 

“I only need five minutes to explain,” his words were quick, natural, as if he had practiced begging her for just a minute of her time on the drive over. 

Lucy hesitated, her hand clutching the handle of her suitcase so hard it made her palm ache. She had already been given a minute too many, and when she thought she found the strength to walk away, she nodded. 

Lucy needed to hear what Mikko had to say. 

“I should have told you I was leaving,” Mikko started, his voice wavering as he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brown. 

Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he was nervous, or if it was just from how hot it was outside. 

“I never wanted to leave Colorado… and I never wanted to play for Carolina. I was never going to stay,” Mikko could barely meet her eyes as he spoke. But when he paused, his shoulder shaking with a deep inhale, they found her and Lucy could see the pain he had in them. They were heavy with the weight of what he had done, and so glossy he thought he might be holding back tears while her stomach felt as if a blade had been shoved right into it and twisted with his every word. 

“I led you on,” he added, his tongue slipping out from his perfect lip to run over his lower lip, “but only about the team. Not about us. I didn’t know what we were, or how to say goodbye to you, because I don’t think you really knew what we were either. And I-” his words caught trying to force out all of what he needed today before she decided his time was up, “And I couldn’t say all I needed to say over a text, because it wouldn’t have been right, and I don’t think you would have believed me.”

“I still don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Lucy countered, her hand falling to raise on the swell of her hip as her eyes glanced down at her phone to check the time – worried that her Uber driver would have fully given up on her. 

“I care about you-”

Lucy’s breath caught. 

“I knew it when I left,” his voice was soft, “I mean, I must have felt it before. But when I got to Edmonton, Vancouver and all the way back in Dallas. I couldn’t sleep. And I know now that the reason was you.”

Lucy’s eyes burned as tears threatened to spill. She had been feeling so many emotions that she couldn’t fathom how to reply to what she just heard. She hated that he had kept leaving Raleigh from her. That he lied about staying in Carolina for so long that she still was clearing real estate ads from her browsing history. And she hated that he cared, because she cared for him too. 

It would be so much easier to forget the pain he had put her through if she had never cared. 

Instead of telling him how she felt, Lucy’s mind focused on the one thing she knew how to put into words at that moment. “I have a plane to catch.”

“Okay,” Mikko nodded. If her aversion to his confessions hurt him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he smiled softly as he reached for her bag and spoke without hesitation. “I’ll drive you.”

***

The drive to the airport was quiet, the only conversation made through lingering glances. Even when stuck in traffic – when her mind and heart racing because of the sheer presence of him – she couldn’t find anything to say. Instead, she sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes stealing glances when she thought his eyes would be fixated on the road. But at stop lights, or when they were left kissing the bumper of the car in front of them, she would catch his eyes lingering on her just long enough for the corner of his lips to form a soft smile. 

When they pulled up to departures, Lucy got out of the car before he could even think about saying goodbye. She pulled open the back seat, grabbed her bags as if her flight was going to take off any minutes without her – because she knew it was – and turned on her heels to make a run for it. 

A run for the plan and away from facing the reality that was Mikko flying all the way to Carolina. For her. 

But then she froze. Hesitation holding her in place on the curb. Her luggage fell from her hold, clamoring against the ground as she turned to face Mikko. He was standing just outside the driver’s side door, his arm slung over the driver’s side door as he watched her. 

Then, before her brain could register what she was doing, Lucy stepped off the curb. Quick steps carried her around the car rushing right to him. Her arms stretched out, wrapping around Mikko’s neck as he leaned in to meet her. Their lips met in a firm kiss. One that was deep, and quick, and desperate to make up for the too many days they had spent apart – and all the mistakes that were made. His arm wrapped around her, his large hands splaying over her back as if he could draw her in any closer. And the tears she had been holding back, were finally slipping down her cheeks. 

When they both finally pulled back, Lucy was clinging to him. Not ready to let go. Not yet. Not when there was so much left to be said. 

“When do you get back?” he asked slowly. 

“In a week,” she whispered. 

“When you do…” he spoke slowly, cautiously, “I’d like to pay for you to come visit me in Dallas.”

She nodded slowly, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck just a little closer. 

“And until then, I’ll call you? You’ll answer?””

“Yeah, I will,” she assured. 

“Good,” Mikko sighed, a smile tugging wider, “Because if I’m going to convince you to come to Dallas with me, I’m going to have to start now.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Lucy scoffed slowly. 

“I can be very persuasive, Lulu.” 

“Don’t tease me with a good time Mikko,” Lucy sighed, her playfulness beginning to leech back into her words. “Not when I’m about to fly away.”

Silently, Lucy pulled back her eyes fixated on him until she joined her luggage on the curb. She gathered it quickly, praying that she could make it through security and to her terminal before final boarding. 

She ran through the airport with a smile that she hadn’t worn in months. Even if running made her ass jiggle, her breast hurt, and her shoes were in no way made for running. There was no amount of discomfort that could take away from what she had to look forward to when she got back. 

She would see Mikko again, for this wasn’t goodbye. It was just the beginning for something and she was ready to see where it led. 

***

One Week Later…

Lucy was tired of travelling. From the delayed flights, to the child that kicked the back seat the entire way to Dallas, it made her never want to set foot on another plane. Or maybe it was the dehydration from her steady diet of complimentary resort alcohol, her aching sunburn, or the ungodly number of hours she had spent in airports just to get to Dallas. She’d flown from Cuba to Atlanta, then Raleigh, only to turn around and connect to Dallas — all because she needed more than bikinis and a sarong to survive Texas. But it was finally over.

She followed the crowd through the airport, her carry on slung over her shoulder and her headphones in. The crowd slowly began to thin, people staying off to baggage claim, but she pushed onward. She had only travelled with the one bag. Her stepped hastened, her heart thundering in her ears, drowning out the music as she rounded the corner into the arrivals area. 

There she saw him. Standing tall and holding a sign with her name written across it in bold as if she wouldn't be able to spot him in the crowd. He held it high, his eyes searching for her – and when he saw her his smile grew and lit her with an excitement she felt every time they were in the same room.

It took all of her strength not to run to him, but there was no being coy about how much she missed him.

He dropped the sign the moment she was in arms reach, their bodies finding each other in that same embrace she hadn’t wanted to leave a week before. 

“I was going to get an Uber,” she muttered. 

“I thought I’d give you a ride,” he spoke into her hair, the heat of his words blossoming over the top of her head – fuck, she would never get over how big he was.

“I think someone missed me,” she teased. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits in a quiet confession, “I have missed you every single day since I left Raleigh.”

She tried to swallow back the lump that was suddenly in her throat, but couldn’t quite make it go away. There was no avoiding the conversation now. Not when she had flown all the way there to face it. 

“Sounds like you’ve had a steady diet of adrenaline and regret.”

Mikko laughed softly, “Something like that, yeah – don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, but the Dallas nutritionist has nothing on you. Their smoothie bar is–”

“You still drink it?” she cut him off with a laugh. 

“Of course I do,” Mikko said and his arm fell around her shoulders, carefully guiding her off to the parking garage. 

“Good, means you didn’t just bring me over here to make you smoothies,” her tone was teasing before it fell back into the seriousness of their conversation. “So, what happens now?” 

“Well…” he hummed, taking her carry on from her casually. “You’re here for just a few days right?”

“The weekend.” 

“Well, I’ll show you around. My apartment, and Dallas.”

“And then?”

“That depends, what are the chances I can convince you to stay longer?” 

Lucy stopped  just outside the airport doors, her head leaning back to look up at Mikko as he towered over her. “How much longer?” 

Her heart hammered against her chest

Mikko stood across from her, looking down at her with a playful smirk. “I was thinking eight years, at least.”

“That’s going to take a lot of convincing,” Lucy had meant for her words to be playful, but they came out as a mere whisper. 

“I’ve found I can be quite persuasive,” Mikko countered. 

He leaned in just enough to tease her with the ghost of a kiss that he could have given her. Then, he drew back, his hand slipping down the length of her arm to hold her hand as he led her out into Dallas. His home, and if he played his cards right, it would be her home too. 

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50 , @hagelpoint-3821 , @macklin-celebrini-71 , @m00nlightdelights , @laurenairay , @idonthaveaclue , @dasiysthings

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[willyonice]

;; What Comes After for @kurlyteuvo for the summer fic exchange 2k25

Summary: When Mikko is traded mid-season to the Carolina Hurricanes, it feels like he's lost everything. The last thing he expects is to be drawn to Lucy Deveraux dietitian. Lucy has worked hard to earn respect in both in life and in the league, even if she doesn't quiet have it for herself. She’s used to players cycling in and out of her life. What she’s not used to is someone like Mikko noticing her for more than just what she can do for his diet. Kinks & TW: player x employed by the team, undefined relationship, plus-sized/curly original character, height difference, thigh riding, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving), trade angst, resolved angst, edited but probably poorly. As always, if you feel like I need to add any other kinks/triggers, please yell at me. Author Notes: DONNA! I don't think I've done a very good job at hiding that I've been your fic writer because I've been tip toeing around the topic every time you've talked about writing yours! I hope I still managed to keep it a surprise. And I apologies with how rushed the plot (and the editing) may seen. The deadline snuck up on me very quickly -- and as always, the plot I found myself forming could have easily been a full size novel. There was so much more I wish I could have included but I hope you enjoy it all the same. And of course, a huge thank you to @wyattjohnston for putting the exchange together, and always finding me a recipient that has players/tropes that challenge me as a writer! Please be kind. This is the first time I've really written a curvy/plus-sized original character that struggled with her body imagine all the while being confident and beautiful in her own skin! I hope you all love Lucy as much as I do! Word Count: 15k+

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Rantanen, Hall traded to Hurricanes in 3-way deal with Avalanche, Blackhawks – Necas, Drury go from Carolina to Colorado; Chicago gets draft pick

***

January 29th, 2025

First thing in the morning, the kitchen space in Lenovo Center could only ever smell like one of a few things: Steel-cut oats with cinnamon and strong coffee, or the sweat of twenty-three over-worked professional athletes. Lucy preferred the former of the two, which she could always guarantee if she arrived early. If the kitchen was alive with the clatter of plates of the chirping of rookies trying to earn their place in the line up – and an extra piece of bacon on their breakfast bagel – she knew she was too late. But the morning was quiet. She heard nothing more than her sneakers squawking faintly against the clean tile floor as she stepped into the prep area with her tablet in her hand and her stomach growling.    

She walked straight to the cupboard, going through her inventory without any hesitation. Lucy had done it so many times since he had been hired by the organization that it was second nature. They were out of the yogurt Seth preferred. The fruit bowl had a disproportionate ratio of apples to bananas and the citrus were all gone. And Andrei’s overly complicated, but strongly preferred, supplement mix recipe that was scribbled down on a bright pink sticky note and taped to the cabinet was suddenly missing. 

Sighing, and ignoring the sudden rumble in her stomach at the thought of a cold orange slice, Lucy added to her list on her tablet. Work was her happy place. The organization, the science, the routine. It gave her control in a way the rest of her life failed to have. 

Her stomach growled again, so loudly that she couldn’t ignore it anymore.  

Lucy had skipped breakfast. Again. It was the second time that week the food in her own kitchen had gone untouched. She tried not to put much thought into why, but they haunted her as she stood at the centre of the counter top face to face with anything she could fathom for breakfast. Her scale had glared at her when she had stepped on it that morning, and her date the night before had ended with a you’re nice but… text she wouldn’t reply to. 

The thoughts alone should have been enough to tide her over until lunch, but there was no ignoring the ache in the depth of her stomach. Lucy would compromise. It wasn’t food if it was blended. She made her way to the industrial blender and dumped in frozen bananas, oats, a spoonful of powdered peanut butter, almond milk and cinnamon. But no kale. She didn’t have the energy for kale today – and she actually wanted to enjoy her smoothie. 

She was halfway through pouring the smoothie into her favorite cup – a sparkly purple cup lid and straw combo that was a gift from her mother on her last birthday – when she heard a heavy sigh from somewhere in the room. 

Her first wrapped around the cup so tight it almost overflowed at the realization; she wasn’t alone. 

Turning slowly in place, Lucy looked out over the seating area that looked like a high school cafeteria when it was flooded with players. But it was completely empty, with chairs tucked into their respective tables instead of moved to where it was most convenient to talk about fantasy NFL rosters or the team’s next big party. All except for one. The player sat alone in the corner at the far end of the room, facing the wall. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to be seen. Lucy blinked, her head cocked to the side as she let her eyes drag down his head of golden curls and across the breadth of his strong shoulder. Silently, Lucy chastised herself. She should have noticed him sooner. 

“You’re early,” Lucy said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Or an insomniac.”

The player looked up from the table top and up at the wall in front of him. But he didn’t look at her. She watched as his shoulders tensed, straightening up from their heavy slouch before he reached a single hand up to stroke through his hair. “Bit of both.”

Recognition should have hit her then, but she didn’t know that voice. She had been working with the players for over two years now, but he wasn’t one of her guys – which meant he had to be one of two people: Taylor Hall or Mikko Rantanen. The two of them had been the product of the blockbuster trade that sent Necas and Drury to Colorado and left a mess of paperwork on her desk. Lucy had yet to review their files that had been sent over by their respective team’s nutritionists – she hadn’t expected them so soon. 

Stepping a little closer to the table, Lucy leaned in a little closer just to get a better look at him – she couldn’t risk misidentifying him. Big shoulders, stoic features and eyes so blue that they made her heart skip a beat – it was only then it clicked. 

“Rantanen, right?” She asked, even though she knew she was right. “I’m Lucy Deveraux. Team Nutritionist. I handle what goes in your body when it’s not adrenaline and regret.” Lucy smiled softly and raised her smoothie cup up in a casual greeting. 

Mikko offered her what she was sure was supposed to be a smile. His lips had curled so slightly that it almost looked like a grimace, and there was a darkness in his bright eyes that reminded her of rainy days. It didn’t look like he was tired. It was something heavier that she couldn’t quite identify without knowing him. 

Her eyes fell from him and down to the plate on the table in front of him. He had made himself a breakfast – or what she was sure was supposed to be breakfast. A piece of dry whole grain toast, a single boiled egg sprinkled with pepper, and a sad cup of Seth’s plain yogurt. No flavor. No joy. Just enough to stop his stomach from growling.

“I’ve heard McKinnon was a hard ass for nutrition, but I didn’t think he had you all eating like he was an almond mom.” 

Mikko’s lips tugged upwards – a real smile – before falling again. He looked down at his place, then back up at her. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You don’t have to be hungry,” Lucy told him, “but you do have to fuel your body.” She held out her smoothie, glittery cup and all, an offering to him. “Here. Try this.”

His head cocked back a little further, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he asked, “Are you always this persistent?”

“Only because you’re going to be tired after your first practice with Rod,” Lucy told him, her voice soft as she wiggled the sparkling cup at him. The sparkled danced under the fluorescent lights, and she just hoped it made it more enticing. “You’re not the first guy to look like hell after you’ve landed. I’m not asking you to love it here just yet. Just don’t let your performance be the thing you lose next.”

Mikko’s shoulders rocked with a heavy sigh as he reached out for the smoothie. His fingers brushed hers as his large hand wrapped around the cup in his fist. After a quick examination, and what looked like a subtle sniff, he took a sip. The smallest of smiles returned. 

“Banana, oats, peanut butter, almond milk, cinnamon,” she listed, “I usually add kale, but, I didn’t feel like ruining my day right from the start.”

He made a small sound that almost sounded like a laugh before taking another sip. 

“I’ll take that as a success, and I’ll just get rid of this for you,” she added, reaching for his depressing breakfast. Lucy carried it with her back into the kitchen and tossed it into the compost bin without waiting for permission. She tucked the plate into the dishwasher,then grabbed a disposable cup to make herself another smoothie. 

The industrial blender whirled, masking Mikko’s footsteps as he walked up beside her and joined her at the counter. She almost jumped when she spotted him out of the corner of her eyes. He was tall, just two inches shy of being an entire foot taller than her and he was broad – so much so his arm nearly brushed up against hers as he took over most of the prep space just by existing in it. 

Lucy wouldn’t have to ask why his nickname was Moose. 

“Thanks,” Mikko said, his voice soft. 

“For doing my job?” she quirked up a brow as she popped the flimsy recycled plastic lid onto her compostable cup. 

“For not treating me like a headline.”

Lucy paused, her eyes fixating on the pale brown liquid of her smoothie as it overflowed from the mouth of her cup and oozed down the side of the cup. Then, she turned, catching his gaze as he stood there, his neck craned slightly to look down at her. Their gaze met for a second longer than she meant to, and the intensity in his eyes sent a nervous prickle over her pale skin.

Her mouth went dry, and she took a quick sip of her smoothie – under the guise of trying to prevent it from spilling further – before she could speak. “You’re welcome,” she managed, “But let me be clear, I will annoy the hell out of you if I see you trying to skip out on a real meal again.”

Mikko took another sip from her sparkling purple straw, and he smiled again. This time, there was a calmness in his eyes, like a ray of sunshine after a storm. It shined down on her for a mere moment before the thunder of chaos struck: The rest of the team was arriving, and the whole room was about to know Seth’s last yogurt cup was missing – and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him where it had ended up. 

***

January 31st, 2025

The fluorescent lights above Lucy’s desk buzzed softly, barely audible, but just loud enough to make her skin crawl. Normally, she liked to work with them off, with the light of her computer and the amber glow from her floor lamp – her favorite thrift-store find: a brass arc floor lamp she was sure was from the 80’s. It brought a homey feeling to the otherwise sterile, too small office. It was windowless, and perpetually cold – like most of the lower-level rooms in the area. But it was a place to call her own instead of having to make a meeting space out of the kitchen when she had to meet one on one with the players. 

Files were stacked in piles at the corner of her desk, it was a mess of organized chaos to sort through before the files could find their final destinations. Beside them was her coffee stained Carolina Hurricanes mug and a tiny bobblehead of Rod Brinda’Amour hoisting the Stanley Cup. 

He was a beacon of inspiration for any player that came into her office. A reminder that while they were the key pieces in what would be a push for the Stanley Cup, but that the staff stood with them and would support them in every single way that they could. From the edges of the skate blades, to the food that fueled them, they could finally fight their way back to the cup if they worked together. 

Lucy reached out with a single manicured finger and tapped the top of Rod’s head and watched it bobble with a small smile before her eyes raised back up to her computer screen. She was scrolling through Mikko Rantanen’s records that had been sent over by the Avalanche’s steam. It was highlighted with a rainbow of colors, focusing on what she wanted to discuss or any area she felt like they could improve on while he was with the team. It really wasn’t all that much to review, Lucy ultimately started to highlight random things in pink just to make herself look busy when there was nothing else on her to do list – and that was exactly what she had been doing when she heard a soft knock against the doorframe. 

“Come in,” she welcomed him without looking away from her screen. 

She heard his heavy footsteps as Mikko made his way inside, and the gentle closing of the door behind him. It was only then she looked up, no longer needing to pretend to be busy. He was dressed in a grey dry-fit shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin and  black joggers that hung loose and low on his hips. His only accessories were the slight sheen of sweat – or maybe it was water from a hot post-practice shower – that clung to his neck and the heavy bags under his eyes. Mikko looked tired, not just from practice, the kind of tiredness that came from racing thoughts and sleepless nights. Lucy could see it in his eyes, and how he wouldn’t quite meet hers. She had seen the look so many times before in the reflection of her own mirror. 

Mikko sat across from her stiffly, his arms crossed lowly on his chest and his shoulders slouched. He didn’t want to be sitting across from her, but no one ever really did at first. Not when she looked the way she did. 

Lucy wasn’t unhealthy, she knew that, but she knew she didn’t fit the body type that people usually associated with nutritionists. She wasn’t a size zero. She wasn’t muscular, nor was she running any marathons any time soon. So when a professional athlete walked into her office and saw just who was going to be telling them how to take care of their bodies for peak performance, it made it difficult to earn their trust – but Mikko, he seemed different. He didn’t seem like he didn’t want to be in the same room as her because she didn’t look qualified to do her job. He didn’t want to be there for one simple reason: Carolina wasn’t his home. 

“Alright,” Lucy smiled, her fingers tapping across her colorful keyboard before she turned her screen towards him. “I’ll make this quick and painless for you,” she hoped her playfulness would put him at ease, but Mikko only seemed to slump further into his chair. “Here’s where we’re starting. Weight’s stable. Body fat has gone up just a bit since your last measurement in Colorado, but nothing we’re worried about here. Lean mass is solid. And..” she tilted her head to the side, her hair falling into her eyes as she spoke, “you’re dehydrated.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mikko shrug. “I drink when I’m thirsty.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Lucy challenged, “Are tasks that used to be easy now leaving you feel weak? I’d put money on you having headaches. Daily. And there’s no hiding these,” she tapped the skin below her own eye, “sunken and purple. Dehydrated and not sleeping right, double whammy. Your body is screaming at me for help.”

Her tone was heavy with a playful drama that earned a faint smirk from Mikko. 

Lucy smiled to herself. Progress. 

“I know you’ve probably done this a hundred times, but I don’t know you. So please, humor me. At least pretend you’re going to consider my suggestions.” Lucy slid a slim folder across the desk towards him as she spoke – a food log on one side, a sleep tracker on the other. 

“Walk me through what your day looked like yesterday. Start with when you woke up.”

Mikko leaned back in the chair, a single hand reaching up to knot in his damp curls of blonde hair. His head leaned back, resting on the top of the chair as his eyes fell shut. “Woke up around six. Didn’t sleep well, the hotel bed is too soft.” He paused, a heavy sigh rocking through his body as he seemed to melt further into the comfort of the chair. “Grabbed coffee in the lobby. Tried eating breakfast here, and drank that smoothie instead. Had practice, and ate a protein bar after.”

“What did you have for lunch?” Lucy prompted. 

“Grilled chicken salad.”

“Well,” Lucy hummed, “that’s boring. And what was for dinner?”

Mikko didn’t answer right away. Instead he sat up slowly, his eyes peeking open like a child that knew they were about to get in trouble. “I didn’t really eat much. Nothing before the game. I ordered room service afterwards. Only ate the bread that came with the soup. Wasn’t hungry.” 

Leaning back in her chair, Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and found herself mirroring Mikko’s casual posture as she studied him. Her eyes dragged from the tried expression of his face, and down his body that rested there. She looked at him not with judgment, but with concern. She had been working as a nutritionist long enough to recognize when something wasn’t right – and she had been struggling with enough herself to know that he was trying to hide it. So, she wouldn’t push him. Not yet. 

“You do know that your body burns through four thousand calories on a heavy day, right?”

Mikko shrugged again, “I’m not trying to bulk right now.”

“Are you trying to play hockey right now?” Lucy countered, her voice soft. “Because the last time I checked, you have a game tomorrow and then,” she pulled up the team schedule, “you’re on the road for four, starting in… Winnipeg.” She cringed at the thought. If she wasn’t convinced he was struggling already, he surely would be after having to go to Winnipeg for the second time within thirty days. 

There was a long silence between them. Mikko wouldn’t quite meet her gaze and his jaw tightened. He didn't like something she had said.

“I get it,” Lucy sighed, “I’ve never been in your position, but I’ve seen a lot of guys who have. Starting over in a new city, in a new system all the while wearing a jersey that doesn’t feel like your own. You sleep like shit, and then your appetite goes–” 

Mikko cut her off, his words sharp. “Didn’t realize nutritionists doubled as therapists here.”

“Therapist? No,” Lucy shook her head, “Just concerned. Looked like you needed a little reminder that you’re human.” 

Mikko simply blinked at her. His lips parted only to close again as he straightened up in his seat. “Alright,” he cleared his throat, “what do you want from me?”

“Three meals a day. Two snacks. One smoothie. Real foods– things with fiber, fat, protein, color. Drink literally anything. Water. BodyArmor. Put diet Coke in your water bottle, I don’t care as long as you’re drinking something. And check in with me once a week.” She paused, then added, “And start treating your body like it didn’t just get traded. It’s still yours.”

Lucy slid another sheet of paper into his folder. It was a suggested meal plan that she didn’t really expect him to follow. Many players didn’t – they had their own personal chefs, or wives, that took care of that for them. But it was neatly laid out for him, and annotated, with his name written in her tidy cursive at the top of the page. And in the bottom corner, hidden behind the hold of the folder, a message for him in faded blue ink:

You didn’t choose to be here, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. – Lu

Mikko picked up the finger, reading it over slowly and she watched as his thumb brushed over her message at the bottom of the page. For a moment, he sat there in silence, his bright eyes fixed on the page.  Then, finally he spoke quietly: “This is the first thing that’s made me feel like this will work out.”

Lucy smiled softly when she answered, “We want you here Mikko. That’s why you’re here. But for this to work out, you’re going to need to want it to. You don’t have to know how everything’s going to happen now. But I am going to ask you to do one thing for me, right now.”

“What’s that?” he smirked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. 

“Go eat a real meal, dammit.”

***

February 1st, 2025

Lucy always found a certain comfort in what others saw as chaos when it came to pregame prep. There were different routines from the ones she had set for off days. There was no time for inventory and rarely an opportunity for one on one meeting with the players. They had to focus on their pregame routines, and Lucy, she focused on everything else. Hydration. Post practice meals – and pre game meals for those who didn’t have arrangements at home. Lucy also made sure the room was stocked with anything extra the players may need from a quick to assuring everything from mustard packets to snacks would be prepared by the team chef for the first intermission. 

She was scribbling her pen across her checklist, trying to get the black ink to bleed out onto the page instead of leaving nothing but faint impressions on the page, when the first wave of players rolled in. With them was Seth Jarvis, who went straight to the fridge and made a satisfied hum when he found that his favourite yogurt had already been stocked. 

“Thanks Luce!” he called out to her, and she forced a smile to hide the grimace that threatened to take her features. 

She hated that nickname.

Hearing it never failed to make her feel like the toothless, pudgy child that got bullied on the playground – someone she never really outgrew, who she kept buried deep down inside. It was almost enough to pull her from the comfort of her pregame routine, her mind slipping into doubt that someone like her didn’t belong there – even though the players had never left her feeling unwelcome. 

Lucy took a breath, her eyes focusing on the page and the impact of footsteps against the floor. She tried to let the familiar sounds calm her, to pull her back from her insecurity, only to fall in too deep to notice someone standing right beside her. 

“Morning,” Mikko said softly, but his words still left her lurching in surprise. 

A single hand raised to rest over her chest, as if it could calm her racing heart. Lucy looked up at him just as he held out her sparkling purple smoothie cup, rinsed and clean. 

“Morning,” she replied, taking it with a smile that was no longer forced, “I can’t tell if you’re returning the cup or silently asking me to make you another smoothie,” she teased him. 

“Returning it,” he clarified and reached out across the counter for one of the disposable smoothie cups they kept on hand, “as for the smoothie, I think I can take it from here, Luce.”

Lucy stiffened, her shoulders rising and falling with a heavy breath as if to silently cry: Oh no, no him too. She hovered there, awkwardly near the counter as Mikko stood beside her, towering over the smoothie bar. His shoulders were slouching forward as he scanned over the different beverage containers and the neat labels she had given each of them – almond milk, oat, cashew – as if one would call out to him, telling him exactly what belonged in the drink she had made him before. 

Lucy leaned in a little closer, dropping her voice low. “If you promise to never call me Luice again, I’ll tell you what I put in the smoothie.”

Mikko glanced at her out of the corner of his bright eyes, his face softening. And just when Lucy thought he was going to question her about it, he didn’t. Instead, he obliged. “Alright. We’ll just have to find a new nickname for you then, Lucy.”

Her chest fluttered in a way that Lucy couldn't quite explain. It wasn’t anxiety, and it wasn’t her beginning to spiral. With his simple words, Mikko had done something no man had done in a long time – he made her feel heard. Valid. Maybe even special. 

“It was almond milk,” she offered, “don’t forget the cinnamon, and today, maybe add the kale – or spinach. You know, just for the extra boost before the  game against the Kings tonight.”

When she glanced up at him, Mikko gave her a small smile, his eyes soft as he scooped frozen bananas into the blender. “Thanks, Lulu.” 

“Lulu?” she raised a brow. Her head cocked as he blended up the smoothie, the whirl of the blades leaving no room for conversation. When the air went quiet with nothing more than the rumble of conversation heard as he poured the smoothie into his cup, Mikko smiled down at her. 

“Lulu, I like,” he smiled, “you like?” 

“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, “actually, I do. Thanks.” Her gaze dropped to the dirty countertop, and she was quick to fall into the habit of making sure the prep space was neat and tidy for the next player that required it. But then she froze, quickly turning in place to stop Mikko before he could join the rest of the players in the seating area where they had first met. “Mikko, wait.”

He stopped on the other side of the counter, his lips wrapped around his straw as he took a sip. His eyes were wide, questioning what she was calling out to him for without saying a word. 

“If I don’t see you before puck drop, good luck today,” Lucy smiled. 

His lips, stilled wrapped around his straw, curled up at the corners. Whatever version of Mikko this was, it was better than the one she had seen in her office the day before. A little less tired, and a little happier to be that – and maybe, just maybe she had been a motivator behind that. 

***

Staying until the game was finished wasn’t something that was expected of Lucy. But with the upcoming road trip she wanted to make sure everything was done before the team hit the road. Lucy made her final confirmation emails with the team’s hotels and the caterers that would be serving them while on the road all from the tranquility of her office. It was quiet there, even with the almost 19,000 fans in attendance, she could only hear them after the blare of the goal horn. 

Lucy had only heard it twice during the night as she worked, and she didn’t hear the cheers that came with the storm surge at the end of the game which told her all she really needed to know about the game: The Hurricanes lost. 

Packing her bag, Lucy shut down for the night and moved through the lower levels of the arena, with the intention of one last look in the kitchen to assure the lights were off for the night – and to maybe steal a snack from the fridge for the ride home. The corridors were mostly empty already. Players and staff were always quick to leave the rink after a loss when morale was low. But she could still hear showers echoing in the distance sending a scent of what smelt to be eucalyptus soap into the air with the scent of rubber and sweat that forever lingered there. With the doors in sight before her, Lucy became excited by the idea of fresh air – but then she heard it, a loud bang from the locker room. 

Pausing in place, Lucy looked up and down the corridor cautiously. For a moment she had thought she imagined the sound, but it quickly became clear that she may have been the only one around to hear it. Everyone else had gone home. Slowly, she moved to the entrance of the locker room. It wasn’t somewhere she went often, only when she was required, and it felt almost intrusive to hover there waiting for the source of the noise to make itself known. And when it didn’t present itself to her, Lucy sighed. 

“Hello? Is there anyone still in there?” She called out, and received nothing in return. 

Lucy looked up and down the length of the corridor one more time, looking for a stray hockey stick or hockey skate to arm herself with as she muttered to herself under her breath. “Why does this have to feel like a goddamn horror movie?”

She found nothing, but even with her courage weaning, she knew she had to enter the locker room. “Alright, I’m coming in!” Was Lucy’s final warning before she entered the room and found only one player remaining. 

Mikko sat at the far end, his head in his hands, damp curls falling between his fingers and down onto his knuckles. His gear was off and long ago packed away by the team, but he had a broken stick at his feet and a wet towel draped around his neck. His whole posture sagged under an invisible weight that he had been carrying around since he arrived in Raleigh. The loss had only added to it. 

“Mikko,” she said softly, “you’re going to have to give a girl a warning next time you want to break things. I thought I was about to get whacked in here.” 

There was a playfulness in her tone as she spoke, but it didn’t phase Mikko. He remained in his seat, unmoving – Hell, he didn’t even look up at her. He only seemed to sigh, the heavy weight of it rocking his tense shoulders. 

“I know I’m not exactly the right kind of person to give a past-game pep talk,” Lucy spoke slowly as she crossed the floor - careful not to step on the team logo in the middle of the floor - and sat on the bench next to him in the stall labeled J. Blake. “But when I have a shit day at work, I like a drink and a good meal.”

Mikko didn’t move. 

“There’s this place not far from here. Comfort food, low lighting, strong drinks. I think you’d love it. It’d hit the spot if it were me.”

Lucy reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone to pull up the restaurant details for him to take down. She was typing it into Google when his voice stopped her. 

“Would you take me?” he asked, his eyes still fixated on the ground in front of her, but his hands had dropped from his face. One had found its place on the bench right next to hers. So close, she could feel his heat radiating from him. 

Lucy froze, her teeth coming down on her lower lip as she considered his request. 

She wasn’t supposed to fraternize with the players. She knew that. Lines were made – some so clear that they were involved in her contract. 

But Mikko, he looked so alone. How could she say no? 

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Sure, Let’s go.”

***

Lucy didn’t like to brag, but when she did it was often because one of her closest friends owned one of the hottest restaurants in Raleigh. It meant she got a table even on the busiest of nights, and it was always the same one. Tucked into the corner, just big enough for two, was her quiet table. Lucy had only ever eaten there alone, eating whatever her friend would bring out to her. But it was different with Mikko joining her. It had earned a raised brown from the hostess, and whispers from the bartenders as they passed. Word would soon reach the kitchen that she wasn’t alone, but that she was in the company of one of the NHL’s biggest superstars. 

Carolina wasn’t the biggest hockey market, but they had been selling out home games for as long as she could remember. And with Necas being traded away in the multi-team deal with Mikko and Hall, she was sure the 6 '4 hockey forward would be well recognized – even in the dim light. 

The thought kept Lucy tense as they sat together at the table, silently looking over their menus like it was an awkward blind date until the waiter arrived asking about drink orders. 

Mikko looked up over the corner of his menu at her, an eyebrow raised up, as if to silently ask if he would get in trouble for indulging himself in a drink. 

Lucy stifled a laugh. 

“As long as you make it to practice tomorrow, I don’t care what you drink,” Lucy assured him. 

“Gin and tonic,” Mikko said after a moment. 

Lucy smiled as she looked up at the waiter, “Lemon drop, please.”

If she had a signature drink, a lemon drop would be it. Both sweet and sour, fun and bright – and while Lucy didn’t know Mikko well, she was sure a gin and tonic was his; Classic, smart, serious even. But it only took one drink for Lucy to meet the real Mikko. 

By his second drink, Mikko was worlds away from the tired, slumped over, recently traded hockey player she had met mere days ago. His voice came alive with a hint of laughter as he spoke. He sat up straight, almost proudly in his seat across from her as he raved about the appetizers that were brought out to them by the staff without having to be ordered – Yet again one of the many perks of knowing the chef. He knew exactly what she liked. And his wit led to a real laughter that Lucy could feel deep in her own chest, something like a flutter. 

If they were on a date, it would have been going well. But it wasn’t. Lucy wasn’t trying to make Mikko fall in love with her – but the city, and she was sure it was working, one bite at a time. 

The chef sent out food, plate after plate. Small servings made with care for the two of them to get a taste of all he had to offer. One bite, then another, just enough to leave them wanting more before they were presented with a small dessert menu. 

“Oh no,” she shook her head at the waiter, “I really shouldn’t.”

Mikko leaned forward with a lopsided smile that left her brain short circuiting. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. But the light caught his eye, uncovered its mischievous gleam as he spoke. “Let’s share just one,” he said with a wink, “I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t.” 

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Lucy hesitated. She could already feel the familiar uneasiness of guilt on the depth of her stomach. The smaller portion sizes made her feel a little better about what she had eaten, but dessert? Just the thought was enough to leave her teetering on the edge of spiralling. Just one more bite would have been enough to have her call her therapist in the morning – But Mikko was looking at her with such happiness in his eyes that she didn’t want to be the one to extinguish it. So she nodded. 

They shared a single slice of cranberry cheesecake. Its flavors were unlike anything she had tasted before. Lucy almost melted back into her seat, her head lulling back as she enjoyed each note. With each bite she swore she could taste something more: the tartness of the cranberry, a little hint of citrus and then a hint of rosemary too. It was unlike anything she could have imagined – and Mikko seemed to enjoy it too, as he licked the last morsel of cheese cake off his thumb. 

“That was,” Lucy breathed out. 

“Incredible,” Mikko finished her words, Lucy could only hum in agreement, as she sat there her eyes shut as the relished in the flavors that lingered on her tongue. 

She sat there in the darkness of her mind for so long that she didn’t notice when the server returned with the bill.  The bill that Mikko paid for in full without even questioning her. 

“Hey,” Lucy half snapped, “you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know,” Mikko nodded, his smile a little bigger now as she stood up from the table and offered her his hand. 

Lucy took it carefully, her mind screaming this is not a date at her as she maintained her casual composure. She followed Mikke through the restaurant, the crowd thinning as it grew closer and closer to the closing team. He led her out into the street that was left cold and quiet in the night. 

They walked together under the glow of the street lights, his hand never leaving hers as he walked her back towards the rental car they had arrived in. When they reached it, they stood together by the passenger side. She wondered for a moment if he was going to open the door for her. But then he stepped a little closer… a little too close. 

Mikko opened his mouth. Then shut it again his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back any words he had thought to say, and then when Lucy thought nothing would come, Mikko found his words. 

“This is the first time since I arrived in Raleigh,” his words were so quiet they were almost lost in the rush of a car as it drove down the street. Lucy had to lean into him at a dangerous proximity just to hear him. “This is the first time that I haven’t felt alone, and it’s because of you, Lulu.”

Her new nickname hits her like a strong wind over her face. Lucy felt like she was suffocating as she stood there, her hand squeezing his just a little tighter suddenly worried that he might come to his senses and  pull away. But he didn’t. Mikko only flexed his hand around her in return, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he used that comforting hold to draw her in. 

They met at the lips, Lucy having to press up on her toes just to meet him. She had never considered herself short, but Mikko, he made her feel small for the first time in as long as she could remember. 

Mikko’s hand fell from hers slowly, only to find the curve of her waist and hold her to him as he kissed her. It was a slow, tentative kiss. Not frantic or hungry, but cautious as Lucy kissed him back. 

She knew it was a bad idea. Having dinner with Mikko toed the line, but kissing him? It was far from professional. It wasn’t smart, and if anyone ever found out, it would surely cost Lucy her job. But Lucy couldn’t bring herself to pull away. 

Lucy could only cling to him, her hands clutching to the fabric of his shirt as her lips parted. She breathed in the taste of him, the lingering flavors of cranberry and gin sending a shiver through her body. It started in her spin, sending a radiating heat from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. The feeling left her gasping against Mikko’s lips, her heart racing as she pulled back just enough to glance up at him. 

It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel the wav he had, and she couldn’t help but feel that alcohol might have been the driver behind it all. She had three drinks of her own, but she had always held her liquor well, but she didn’t know how Mikko had fared. He had four drinks of his own, so he had to be intoxicated, right? She squinted against the bright light of the street light that was lit behind him like a halo, her eyes searching for any indication that Mikko wasn’t sober. But what she found was a man looking at her with bedroom eyes and a soft smile. 

“Come back to my hotel with me?” Mikko asked, his tone almost pleading. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

The realization made her chest ache. Mikko had arrived in Raleigh days ago. He had only played four games with a team of strangers, and for whatever reason Mikko failed to find solace in the locker room. But he seemed to have found it with her. 

Lucy refused to let him go. 

“Yeah, okay” Lucy breathed out, her hand slipping away from the grasp they had on his shirt. “I’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow.”

Mikko’s hands fell away from her body, and for the first time that night Lucy realized just how cold it was. Her arms coiled around her chest, trying to keep the warmth of his body from leaving her completely as he stepped back and opened the passenger side door for her. 

They drove back to his hotel in silence. The air was thick with words left unspoken, but things didn’t feel heavy. Mikko was relaxed behind the wheel, one hand on the wheel as the other casually dropped to rest on her knee. It was the most relaxed Lucy had seen him since he had arrived, and she could do nothing but stare. His comfort and ease was magnetic, attractive and it lured her all the way back to his hotel room. 

Mikko led her by the hand, his soft gaze cast over his shoulder as he led her to the foot of the bed that hadn’t been touched since housekeeping had made it. His stare lingered, on her face, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was looking for. Approval? Excitement? Panic, maybe? 

But he saw nothing but stoic calmness on her features. It was a practiced look, one she had mastered back in high school when her friends would give her compliments disgusted as insults. It wasn’t the feeling of hurt that she was masking this time. Instead she was concealing so much more. 

Eagerness. 

Uncertainty. 

Insecurity. 

They were all so consuming, Lucy was sure Mikko could feel her hands tremble in his. He held them until he sat down at the end of the bed, the bed sinking under his weight as he made himself comfortable there. Then, his touch settled on the swell of her hips, stoking over them as his fingers teased the waist of her jeans that felt a little too tight after dinner.

Lucy held her breath as his fingers came to pinch at each side of the button fly. 

“Can I?” Mikko asked, his voice so deep she almost hadn’t heard him. 

Lucy nodded quickly before her better judgment could threaten to take her. She bit back the sigh of relief that came with them being undone, their impression left behind across her belly and thighs. Lucy squirmed in place, pressing her thighs firm together before relaxing at the feeling of him dragging the fabric down her legs slowly. The fabric teased her skin on the way down, sending her head lulling back and her eyes fell shut as it hit the ground in a heap around her ankles.  

When she moved to step out of them, her loafers fell from her feet, and she moved to stand right beside the clothes Mikko had discarded. Instead, his hands were on her hips, hiding her to straddle one of his thighs. 

“Mikko I-” She started to protest, but was cut off by the hunger of his lips.

The tension of her body was eased by the lack of caution in his kiss. She was left melting down against his thigh as she tasted his tongue in her mouth as it stroked along her own. No one had ever kissed her like that. 

Like she wasn’t the last resort when all of her better looking friends already had someone to go home with – Like he really wanted to. 

Gasping she drew back, her hands finding his cheeks to cradle. Lucy forced him to look at her – to really look at her – to see her for who she was. Not only the team’s dietician, but the girl that too often skipped breakfast because of her own haunting words of insecurity in her head. 

She wasn’t skinny. 

She wasn’t blonde. 

She was nothing like any of the other hockey wives or girlfriends she had ever seen parading around Lenovo Centre. And while she didn’t think that would ever be a possibility for her – for them – she didn’t want Mikko to regret a night in bed with her... Because she didn’t think she could handle the rejection that would come after.  

“Are you sure?” She asked him slowly, her stomach jumping up into her throat. 

Mikko didn’t answer with his words. Instead, he held her stare as his hands settled on her hips. He gripped the soft flesh there tight, slowly hiding her along the strength of his thigh. 

Lucy’s lips parted in a gasp. The cotton of her patties tugged back and forth with the movement, as he guided her cunt over his flexed quad. His hands remained on her hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her ass, only until he knew she had fallen into the rhythm all on her own. Then, his hands found her face again, guiding her lips back into his. 

He was kissing her slowly, almost teasingly. And only did he stop when Lucy let out her first moan. She had tried to swallow it, but her panties had caught, and the harshness of his denim jeans against her clit had been too much for her to contain. 

“Keep going,” he encouraged, “you sound so pretty when you like something.”

Lucy watched him through thick lashes, fighting to keep her eyes open as she dragged her core up and down the expanse of his thigh. She could feel her thighs beginning to ache – so close to trembling – and her core felt weak, already so close to coming. 

She fought it off with a deep breath, only to be pushed right back to the edge as Mikko slipped a single finger into her panties. It struck her clit, sending a shock through her body, but it didn’t stay there. He dragged her panties to the side carefully, leaving her bare cunt to drag over his leg. 

Mikko leaned back slowly, propped up on his elbows as his eyes feasted on the sight of her. 

She could feel her arousal soaking into his jeans, and she was sure he could too. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Mikko cuased and it stilled her. 

She couldn’t have heard that right. 

“What?” her word was a barely audible gasp as Mikko sat up so effortlessly her own abs hurt. 

Fuck, it must have been nice to be built like a fucking god. 

“You, Lucy,” Mikko hummed, his hands finding her hips again, “are beautiful. You don’t hear that enough, do you?” 

Lucy could only shake her head as Mikko guided her up off his thigh, and lay her out on the bed. Slowly, he lowered himself down on the bed between her legs, a smile on his lips as he placed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. 

“Let me show you, yes?”

“Yes,” Lucy gasped weakly as he placed another, sloppier, opened mouth kiss on her upper thigh. 

Mikko kissed his way up to the apex between her thighs. Then her legs began to truly tremble. It was enough to make her whine as she reached out with both hands to knit in his thick golden curls. 

Her touch drew Mikko in closer, his hot breath blossoming over her sweet, glistening core just long enough for it to throb with desperation. Then, as if he could feel her desperation coursing through her veins, he knocked her legs open and indulged in the very taste of her. Mikko’s face was buried there, his tongue parting her before delving inside her. 

Lucy hissed through her teeth, her hands guiding him to just the right spot. She tested him with the simple roll of her hips, and helmet her. She ground against her mouth and tongue, the pleasure slowly beginning to pulse through her. So close to falling over the edge of her climax only for Mikko to pull back.

He could feel it, the gentle throbbing of her core. She knew he had to. Because he was teasing her now. 

Mikko wanted her to come. 

He wanted to make her come. 

But it would need to be on his cock. 

The bed felt lighter as he pushed himself off it, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. She could hear him rustling through a bag in the next room. When he returned he was completely naked, with a condom already stretched out over his impressive cock – hell, what about him wasn’t impressive?

Slowly, he crawled up the length of the bed until he was hovering over her. One hand rested on each side of her head, and she watched as the muscles of his shoulders flexed. He was so strong, so built, that in that moment she admired him – trying to ignore the feeling of his cock dragging over her thigh – he made her feel small. 

Mikko noticed, and he smiled, his lips and chin left  slick with saliva and with her. 

He held her gaze as he reached down between them, two thick fingers pressing against her clit. It left her moaning as they moved in a slow, agonizing circle, and he swallowed the sound in a kiss. Her self heaved as his fingers parted her, clearing the way for his cock. Her pleasure coiled deep in her belly, his skin glistening with perspiration and leaving her desperate to pull off her own blouse. 

She tugged at the fabric as she threw her head back against the pillows. Her eyes shut tight as she fidgeted with each too-tiny button only for them all to be free with one calculated pull from Mikko’s hands. 

He freed her from the confines of her shirt, and tugged down the cups of her bra with one hand. It sat awkwardly on her rib cage as he watched her breasts quake with his every thrust. Mikko watched them with a sparkle in his eyes, and he spoke out a string of words she would never understand. 

Her body. The pleasure of feeling her around him, had reduced Mikko back to his mother tongue. 

Lucy melted away beneath him, her legs intertwined with his holding him in place when she was sure he wanted to lean in and devour her breast – but she was so close now, she wasn’t going to let him edge her again. 

Reaching her arms around him, she anchored herself on the strength of his shoulders. Her nails dug into their strength, leaving a small crescent behind as the roll of his hips became more desperate. 

She met his every movement, and it left her trembling as her climax throbbed through her. Her head leaned back in a moan that left her throat raw, but Mikko drew her back in,his fingers knotting in her short dark hair as he guided her face into the crook of his neck. She kissed it slowly, her tongue stroking alone it’s angry before she moaned again. 

Then, she felt him angle his face just right, burying it into her hair. She felt his every breath as it hastened. He thrust deeper, faster, desperately, until his cock throbbed and he stilled deep inside her, the only thing separating him from the deepest parts of her a thin layer of latex. 

Lucy was left breathless when they were through, sprawled out on the bed. Tired, happy, but not quite smiling. 

Mikko eased himself from her slowly, but he didn’t go far. He just rolled over, occupying the bed beside her, and just watched her. His sartre was dreaming, and his smile was soft. 

Suddenly, Lucy was self conscious. 

Reaching out for the top sheet, Lucy draped it over her body carefully. It hid the blouse that she would never get to wear again unless she fixed the button. It hid the bra that now hung low, just beneath her breasts, and how her panties were still on, completely soaked but tucked up between one of her thighs and her pelvis. He had seemed to want her so desperately, yet, she couldn’t rid herself of the heavy feeling in her chest. 

“Mikko,” she croaked, “do you really think I’m beautiful?”

Mikko sat up slowly as he reached out with both hands. He helped her out of her blouse slowly. Then he peeled off her bra before slipping down the length of the bed to tug off her panties. He left her completely naked – vulnerable – in her bed, and kissed his way back up her body before he found her lips in a simple kiss. 

“Absolutely, I do,” Mikko assured her, and then he was gone. 

Lucy just lay there in his bed, listening to Mikko as he moved around the hotel room. She didn’t know what exactly he was doing, she didn’t think to look, but then she heard the subtle click of the light switch, and he was crawling back into the bed right next to her. 

She cuddled in close to him, her head on his chest as she looked across at the bright glow of the hotel room clock. She let herself smile softly, feeling special for the first time in a long time. And the best part? She didn’t have to be up early for work in the morning. 

***

March 6th, 2025

The hotel room had long stopped feeling temporary. If anything, it became Lucy’s second home as she sat cross-legged on Mikko’s bed with her laptop balanced on her bare thighs. The screen was glowing softly in the dim light as she scrolled through real estate listings. Scattered all around the room were little glimmers of her life that had crept their way into Mikko’s hotel room that felt a little more like an apartment. 

On the windowsill was a plant that she purchased at a local farmers market that never made it back home. In the corner of the room was a pile of dirty laundry that continued to grow as – as her clothes were always replaced by one of his t-shirts that fit just right. She kept telling herself she at the very least needed to stuff it in a bag in the back seat of her car. Her half-finished smoothie was on the nightstand, forming a ring of condensation where it sat, and her cardigan was draped over the back of the desk chair like she lived there.

And in some ways, maybe she did. 

“Can you pass me the laptop charger, it’s just there,” Lucy pointed to the bedside table as her laptop gave her the error message that her battery was about to die. 

The bed shifted as Mikko sprawled out across the bed for the charger, and when he rolled over to hand it to her, he placed a simple kiss on her shoulder. 

“Looking at real estate again?” Mikko asked. 

His question was a heavy sigh, but it didn’t phase her. They had been inseparable since the beginning of February and she had heard him sigh many times before. He sighed when the hotel bed was too hard, and the pillow too soft. After a tough game, and he reached out over the centre console to drive back to the hotel with his hand on her knee, he would sigh too. But her favorite sighs that she had heard were when he was between her thighs. 

“Just checking to see if there is anything new,” Lucy said.

Casually, Lucy scrolled to the top of the page where the new listing had been. “I book marked a few not too far from the area if you want to take a–”

Mikko’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. He was quick to answer, sitting arched over at the bedside before he stood, mouthing, “one sec.”

Lucy nodded, watching from the corner of her eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom. She didn’t follow him. She didn’t listen. Didn’t eavesdrop.  She just kept scrolling though the listings, his voice low and quiet in the next room. 

When he returned a few minutes later, he offered her nothing more than a soft smile. 

No reason, or explanation for the late night phone call as he crawled into bed. 

Lucy didn’t press. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. 

Whatever the phone called entailed, it was private. And she wasn’t privy to anything like that. She wasn’t his wife, or his girlfriend. She didn’t know what she was. 

“You ready for bed, Lulu?” Mikko asked slowly, his hand brushing over her bare knee slowly to make sure he had her attention. 

“You don’t want to take a look at this one?” Lucy countered, “Three-bedroom in North Hills. Could walk to the market and has a big kitchen–”

Mikko rolled over slowly so that his back was to her and away from the glowing light of the screen. He didn’t look at the house, or at her. 

He was quiet. Tired, maybe. But completely uninterested in the houses she had saved to show him. 

“I have an early start tomorrow,” Mikko mumbled, his face half squished into the pillow. “Lay with me?”

Lucy closed her laptop slowly, and placed it down on the bed side table before reaching out and turning off the lights. In the cover of darkness, she crawled under the covers and settled in behind him. Her body formed to his so casually, her cheek coming to rest on the strength of his back as her knees tucked in behind his. Her arm lay lazily over his middle, and the blanket rustled as his hand found hers beneath the blanket. He stroked it slowly with his thumb before upbringing it up to his lips in a sweet kiss. 

“Goodnight, Lulu,” he hummed. 

“Night,” Lucy answered, but she didn’t sleep. Not right away. 

Instead, she lay there watching as his body rocked with his every deep and even breath. She admired how his blonde hair curled against the pillow, and swallowed back a sigh as he rolled over and consumed her in a strong embrace. 

Mikko held her close, his touch enough to ease her mind and lull her to sleep. 

***

March 7th, 2025 

Mikko was still holding her when her alarm went off at five the next morning. It was a time she loathed waking up, but was essential when she knew she had to make multiple stops on her way to the rink. 

Carefully, she eased Mikko’s heavy arm off her. She didn’t know what he deemed an early start, but she didn’t want to wake him before his own alarm went off. 

She moved through the room slowly. Gathering her dirty clothes that she knew needed washing, and her bag, before she snuck out the door. 

Lucy made two stops before going to the arena. First, was to her apartment where her house plants were wilting and her bed was still made. She tossed her dirty laundry on the foot of the bed before pulling open her half-empty closet. If she wanted to wear anything presentable she needed to do laundry. It took two hours to run the washer and the dryer. And while that annoyed her, it gave her time to hop in the shower before dressing in her clean clothes. Her second stop was the little cafe down the block from her apartment. 

It was after nine when Lucy walked into Lenovo Centre with her purse in one hand and her coffee in the other. Her hair was still wet and her makeup was not done. She would do it at her desk before the rest of the staff got in and her day got busy. 

The arena felt colder than usual. 

It left Lucy tugging her coat a little tighter around her shoulders as she slipped inside the staff entrance. Her sneakers squeaked against the freshly mopped floors as she navigated the familiar path to her office. She could hear the hum of the zamboni in the distance as the ice was prepped for the optional practice that day. She knew not many would take it, because it was trade deadline day. 

While most players would be at home with their families hoping not to get a phone call from their agent, Lucy would be hiding in her office and waiting for emails to come her way about onboarding and forwarding player files to their new teams. 

The first notification came around when she had finished fixing her makeup in reflection of her own webcam. The team had received Mark Jankowski from the Nashville Predators in exchange for a 5th round pick. Which made her job easy. She would receive and review his files by the end of the day, and she didn’t have to rush to send anything off. 

With each passing out, the day felt more and more like a day she was going to spend catching up on emails. That was until four in the afternoon, when she was slowly beginning to pack things away. The chime of an email arriving in her inbox almost made her jump. 

The subject of the new email was in bold, highlighting its importance: WELCOME LOGAN STANKOVEN.

The contents of the email directed to her were brief: Start onboarding ASAP. 

Lucy exhaled, her fingers reaching up to push through her messy hair as she tried to remember where she had heard that name before. It took her a moment before it hit her. Logan Stankoven was one of the Dallas Stars rookie players. From what she could remember he was fast, skilled. He was a great acquisition for the Canes who liked to play smart and fast hockey. But at what cost? 

She scrolled through the email again. Looking for a name or draft pick to jump out at her, but found nothing. There was no note. No Memo. No explanation for what they lost. 

Her stomach twisted. 

She reached for her laptop, and opened X with a single click. As trash as the app was, it was always the easiest to find the latest hockey news right from the source or from a hockey insider. She chewed her cheek nervously as she scrolled, trying to find the breaking headline she was sure to see. 

Then, there it was, right from the Dallas Stars themselves:

Lucy stared at the post, reading it over and over again until her eyes burned and her vision was blurred by tears. She blinked hard, trying to rid them from her eyes to clear her vision. As if then she would see the post for what it really said, and not as she imagined it. She wiped her eyes with her fists and it all came into focus. What she thought she imagined, was reality. 

Mikko was gone.

Shoving her chair back, Lucy stood, and made her way door the corridors to the locker room. With each step she prayed that she heard something, anything, to indicate that maybe he was still there. But when she peaked her head inside, the room was completely empty. 

Lucy looked up and down the corridor once before slipping inside. Her steps were small as she shuffled her way to the empty stall that was once Mikkos. His gear was gone, and his nameplate removed. She could already see Roslivic’s nameplate had returned to bear the number 96 as if Mikko hadn’t been there at all. 

All that remained in his stall was what he left for her; her small potted plant and her laptop. 

She grabbed it quickly, hoping no one had seen it there before she could grab it. It wouldn’t have been hard to explain – she had always been a good liar – but she didn’t know if she could. Not now. Not when she was so close to tears. 

She choked them back with an ease that came with many years of practice. She held her laptop to her chest, and cradled the plant in one hand as she carried them back to her office where she would prepare the onboarding for their newest member. 

But for hours, all she could do was sit there. The glow of her computer screen illuminating her face as she just stared at the potted plant on her desk and asked herself how she could let herself get in over her head. 

He was just a player. 

They were never anything serious. 

Yet, her heart was breaking. 

Because it wasn’t just a trade; it was an ending she never saw coming. 

***

Rantanen traded to stars by Hurricanes, signs 9-year, $96 millon contract  – Carolina unable to sign forward after acquiring him from Avalanche in January; gets Stankoven, picks…

***

March 8th, 2025

The plane hit the tarmac hard, sending a jolt through Mikko’s body and pulling him from his sleep. His neck ached from how it had been angled for the majority of his three hour flight from Montreal – and the rest of his body ached from his day of traveling from Raleigh to Montreal to Edmonton. He had spent the entirety of his day in the air or at airports just to make sure he could meet his new team before their next game. 

Edmonton wasn’t his new home, but meeting Dallas there filled Mikko with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

This trade was different. 

This trade wasn’t him getting cast aside by a team that felt more like a family than a career. He got to influence where he went – back to the West Coast – with a team that wanted to sign him long term. And they had, Dallas would be his home for 8 years and his first game was mere hours away. 

He kept his headphones on and his head down as he moved with the crowd off the flight and to the baggage claim where his gear, hockey sticks and his life that was packed into a single suitcase waited for him. Everything else was scattered between Denver and Raleigh, or was boxed up en route to Dallas. 

Mikko’s hand flexed around the handle of his bag, his palm sweating at the thought of dawning victory green for the first time against Edmonton. They were more than just rivals. Edmonton had knocked Dallas out of the playoffs the season before, The game was going to be an all out war leading up to the Stanley Cup Playoffs where a rematch was a likely possibility. 

This year, he was going to be the difference maker. 

The weight of the fresh start was heavy on his chest. It wasn’t just what the reporters and the team that expected of him, but what he expected of himself. While he knew he would need to earn it, he wanted to be a voice in the locker room and the bench. Someone other players looked to for leadership and as a friend. He wanted to get pucks to the net, and his name on the score sheet. But most of all, he was going to matter again. 

***

The locker room buzzed with shouting voices and the clatter of sticks as the team lined up in the tunnel, preparing to take the ice in Edmonton. The logo on his chest was different now – the star of Dallas stretched across it, and for a second he looked down and stared. Breathing in, he took in a heavy breath, his hand reaching up to tug at the jersey collar that felt tight around his throat. He was nervous, superstitious maybe, his mind lingering on everything that had gone wrong since he arrived at Rogers place. 

When he first arrived, he had met with the equipment manager to talk about his gloves, and how they needed to be just right. Yet, they still felt damp after warmups. He would already need them replaced again. 

And his pregame meal? Chicken, rice and vegetables were prepared by the caterer. It was all textbook, covering everything he would need going into a game. But the rice was salty, and the chicken was bland and dry. He had to choke it down before he gave up on finishing it. 

Then he had tried to make a smoothie, just like Lulu used to make, but the blender had given him a dark green sludge that tasted more like vegetables than the banana, and peanut butter he craved before the game. 

It left Mikko’s jaw clenched and stomach growling. 

Lulu wouldn't have screwed it up. 

Not his dinner. 

And definitely not the smoothie. 

Lulu lingered in the back of his mind as he stepped out on the ice, the roar of the crowd sending a rush of adrenaline through him, but there was no ignoring the ache that he felt deep in his chest. 

It lingered there until the final seconds of the 3rd period, when he had an assist on the score sheet but the team still lost to Edmonton 5-4. 

Mikko had done what he wanted to do, he’d shown up and had already begun to prove that the trade to Dallas wasn’t a mistake. It was a good first game – but he missed her anyway.

***

March 9th, 2025

After the plane had touched down in Vancouver,and the team had loaded up into the bus that would take them to the hotel, Mikko pulled out his phone for the first time since he had arrived in Edmonton.  The bright light contrasted the dark sky that consumed Vancouver in the blackness of night. It left Mikko squinting as he scrolled through the series of notifications – congratulations from friends, family and former teammates – but he was looking for one. 

A message that he didn’t deserve but hoped for. 

A text message from Lucy. 

The airbreaks of the bus hissed as they arrived at their hotel, and Mikko quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and threw his bag over his duffle bag over his shoulder. He shuffled off with the rest of the team, and listened to their tired chatter, to distract his mind from Lucy. The Captain, Jaime Benn was talking about a breakfast reservation for the team the next morning at one of his favorite brunch stops. Everyone was welcome, but not all heard the invitation that would surely be sent out as a text later, because the rookies were talking about Call of Duty – or maybe it was Fortnite, Mikko couldn’t really tell but it was some sort of video game. He should have eavesdropped. He should have indulged in conversation with one of the other Finnish players that instantly made the team feel a little more like home. But the thought of her was loud, screaming - craving to hear from her. 

After their night in his hotel room back in February, they had messaged each other every day. The two of them talked about everything from work to casual conversation that wasn’t all that casual now that he thought about it. He had clung to her in Carolina with the Hurricanes. She was his lifeline while he waited out the storm that was playing for a team he didn’t feel at home with. 

He had told himself it wasn’t anything serious, and it couldn’t be. Not when she was a player, and she worked for the team – but he wasn’t a member of the Carolina Hurricanes anymore… and he missed Lucy more than he thought he would. 

When he got the hotel room that he would be sharing with Roope Hints, Mikko dropped his things to the floor with a quiet thud. He had to remind himself it was just for the night when he looked around and saw the nearly identical layout as the hotel room back in Raleigh. Worst of all, it had the same smell: harsh chemicals mixed with the awful air freshener they used to try to mask it. 

The smell made his head hurt as he pulled off his sweatshirt and disappeared into the bathroom to wash up before bed. He brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cool water before slipping himself into something more comfortable. And when he returned to the main room, he crawled right into bed and turned off the bedside table light beside him – cutting off any opportunity for small talk before bed. 

Mikko lay there in silence, listening to Roope as he disappeared into the bathroom. He lay with his eyes closed, hearing the sound of the rushing water, and the light of the bathroom as it was flicked off. Roope’s footsteps were soft against the carpeted floor as he passed the foot of the bed and climbed into the second queen sized bed in the room. Then he waited, until the room was pitch black and all that could be heard was the rookies being too loud next door and Roope’s soft breathing. 

He was asleep. 

Mikko ran his hand slowly over the surface of the bed where Lucy would be sleeping if he had been back in Raleigh. His fingers strained against the cool fabric until he found his phone lost among the wrinkles of the duvet. 

He should have been more prepared for the screen's blinding light, but he was left flinching back at its intensity as his thumbs dragged over the screen, navigating its way to his text messages with Lucy. His eyes fixated on the last message they had exchanged, and suddenly his chest was tight.

Taking in a long inhale, Mikko tried to rid himself of the aching guilt that consumed him there. It twisted sharply like a knife because he knew he should have told her he was leaving because he knew. He knew the moment he saw his agent’s name on his call display as he sat right beside her in the hotel bed that he would be leaving. And when he left the bathroom, after their brief conversation, he knew where he was going. They were just waiting on the paper work, and the return. He should have warned her then instead of leaving her to see it on the team’s social media announcement like everyone else. 

What he felt though, wasn’t just guilt. It was something else too. Regret that he hadn’t said goodbye to her  before he left for the airport. And maybe, just maybe, he was grieving the thought of truly losing her and leaving the one good thing about Raleigh forever. 

Three dots appeared. Then, they disappeared. A minute passed, and his lungs burned as he held his breath. Waiting as they reappeared again. Lucy was going to reply.

He stared at the message until his screen dimmed. 

His heart sank as he typed something, only to delete it again. Mikko did this three times before he settled on something he was sure she would reply to. But when he hit send, Lucy didn’t reply. 

There were no dots. No reply. Just the small message below his own text: READ.

***

Edmonton Oilers vs Dallas StarsConference Final

Mikko sat at his stall in the dressing room, his hair sweat drenched from warmups sticking to his forehead as his head hung low on his shoulders. Around him, the team was loud as they hyped themselves up for game time. Some shouted, others jumped from one skate blade to the others, and the coach would be giving his pregame speech soon. There was chaos around him, but Mikko was focused on nothing but the tapping of his stick on the ground in front of him. 

It was game five. The stars were down in the series 4-1. If they lost tonight, they would be eliminated and his dream of winning a second Stanley cup would be over. 

Yet, all he could think about was the first game he had played with Dallas. It had been against Edmonton, but at Roger’s Palace. They had lost 5-4. He hadn’t performed the way he would have liked to that game, but since then? He had found himself again. 

And they were playing in Dallas now. 

They had home ice advantage. 

Dallas as a city and a team felt like home faster than expected. And with that comfort, he found his game again. In the playoffs alone he had twenty-one points in seventeen games, and he had been the reason they had won games they should have lost.  

They had beat his former team, Colorado in seven games. 

It had only taken six to beat Winnipeg. 

They wouldn’t be winning the series against Edmonton that night, but Mikko was determined for the series not to end. Not with them on the losing side. 

The coach finished his pregame speech and the locker room erupted into hoots and hollers as they all got to their feet and fell into a line. 

Adrenaline hit him like a wave, all consuming, almost suffocating as they made their way out towards the arena. The building seemed to rumble with the excitement of the crowd. If it were any other team, their confidence would have waivered, but Dallas was resilient. The voice of their Captain giving one last shout of encouragement was almost lost in the crowd's cheers as the team erupted from the tunnel and took to the ice. 

The lights were low as they sang both the American and Canadian national anthems, the adrenaline keeping him on his toes as the bright colored lances danced over the crowd, sending them a glow in victory green. When the lights went up, the fans roared louder than when they had arrived. 

They had to prove that they deserved to be in this series. That while Hintz was hiding the limp that game with breaking his foot, and Seguin was playing with an injured shoulder, that they were the tough team in this series. And Mikko? He could take the weight of carrying them to victory if he had to.

He was fighting just like the rest of them. 

This was his team. 

Not Colorado. 

Not Carolina. 

Dallas. 

He would prove that they made the right call trading for him.

They had to win. 

***

When the final horn sounded in American Airlines Center, Mikko skated right to the board by the bench and bent over it. His mouthguard hung loose from his lips, and his eyes were shut in a long, tired blink to keep himself from looking back at the ice. 

Behind him, the entire Edmonton Oilers bench had exploded onto the ice. They had won the game 6-3, sending them back to the Stanley cup final for the second time in two years. 

And his season was officially over. 

Mikko had done everything he could - his name on the score sheet again as he assisted on Jason Robertson’s goal midway through the third period. But it hadn’t been enough. Not when the goalie got pulled – not when everything that could have gone wrong seemed to all at once. 

The handshake line was a blur, his sportsmanship something done out of habit as he wished McDavid, Draisaitl and the rest luck in the finals. What they said to him, didn’t register. 

His mind was already lost as he walked back to the locker room, removing his gear out of muscle memory in a solemn silence. Mikko skipped the shower, choosing to get dressed sweaty in his suit just to go home. As he pulled on his pants he could already feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket. One notification after the next. He ignored them until he was seated in the front seat of his car, his head leaning back against his seat. 

Exhausted. 

Defeated. 

He read through each painful media notification of their loss, looking for one thing. 

A message from Lucy.

But there was nothing there.

He thumbed open the last conversation they shared. The one she had left on read for months. Mikko kept telling himself he would try again.

Tomorrow. 

Next week. 

After the playoff. 

He had no excuses now that his season was over. But he didn’t know what he could say. There were no words that he could say to justify what he had done. Even as they had lost, Mikko didn’t regret the trade. Or the extension. But he did regret one thing. 

Only One.

***

Stars stung by 3rd straight exit in Western Final with Game 5 loss – Can’t catch up to Oilers in 4 straight losses to end season

***

One Month Later… 

Craning her neck to the side, Lucy sandwiched her phone between her cheek and her ear and welcomed the worried tone of her best friend, Piper. While Piper was already at the airport drinking her overpriced coffee waiting for their flight to Cuba to board, Lucy was staring at a bottle of sun screen wondering if it would make it through security. She shook it in her hands, contemplating leaving it behind, before tossing it in a Ziplock bag with the rest of her questionable “liquid” items. Then she tossed it in her bag that was still open on her bed, spilling over with too many swim suits, linen dresses and the kind of sandals she was already regretting bringing but knew they would look amazing in her vacation photos. 

“I know I'm late,” Lucy groaned into the phone, hoping she might accidentally hang up on Piper's unimpressed hum as she flipped her suitcase closed and pressed it down to antiseptic the zipper along its track. “But I'll be there. My Uber is almost here – just don't board without me!” 

Piper's laughter echoed through the phone, “By the time you get here, I'll be on the beach at the resort drinking a Margarita. Because the traffic to get here was hell, babes.” 

Lucy cursed under her breath as she dragged her suitcase with two hands towards the door. “I’m gonna be there, P,” Lucy assured as she turned her door handle just enough to pull it from its hinge. She kicked her foot inside. And use it to pull the door open as she lunged for her sunglasses on the table by the front door and it left her stumbling out into the hallway and right into a moose of a human being. 

Her phone dropped, but her gaze traced up a familiar, muscular silhouette. 

“Mikko?” 

Lucy stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide and her heart pounding so hard in her ears that she almost could hear Piper calling out to her from the floor where her phone rested face down against the carpet. 

Mikko looked taller than she remembered, or maybe it was just the way he filled up the narrow hallway, looking so out of place in a space she never expected to see him. She had never invited him back to her place, they had always gone back to the hotel. Yet, there he was, with his messy blonde curls and soft blue eyes gazing at her just as they had the night before he left Raleigh – and it hit her. 

He knew.

He just couldn’t bring himself to tell her. 

Her stomach suddenly felt heavy as she knelt down, picking up her phone from the floor and muttering a quick, “I’ll have to call you back,” before hanging up.  

Lucy looked up at him, a heavy silence falling between them. Even after coming all the way to the door, Mikko seemed to struggle to find the words he wanted to say – and that hurt her more than him not telling her at all. 

“I have a flight to catch,” Lucy bit out in a strong moment of self confidence that wavered when Mikko finally spoke. 

“I only need five minutes to explain,” his words were quick, natural, as if he had practiced begging her for just a minute of her time on the drive over. 

Lucy hesitated, her hand clutching the handle of her suitcase so hard it made her palm ache. She had already been given a minute too many, and when she thought she found the strength to walk away, she nodded. 

Lucy needed to hear what Mikko had to say. 

“I should have told you I was leaving,” Mikko started, his voice wavering as he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brown. 

Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he was nervous, or if it was just from how hot it was outside. 

“I never wanted to leave Colorado… and I never wanted to play for Carolina. I was never going to stay,” Mikko could barely meet her eyes as he spoke. But when he paused, his shoulder shaking with a deep inhale, they found her and Lucy could see the pain he had in them. They were heavy with the weight of what he had done, and so glossy he thought he might be holding back tears while her stomach felt as if a blade had been shoved right into it and twisted with his every word. 

“I led you on,” he added, his tongue slipping out from his perfect lip to run over his lower lip, “but only about the team. Not about us. I didn’t know what we were, or how to say goodbye to you, because I don’t think you really knew what we were either. And I-” his words caught trying to force out all of what he needed today before she decided his time was up, “And I couldn’t say all I needed to say over a text, because it wouldn’t have been right, and I don’t think you would have believed me.”

“I still don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Lucy countered, her hand falling to raise on the swell of her hip as her eyes glanced down at her phone to check the time – worried that her Uber driver would have fully given up on her. 

“I care about you-”

Lucy’s breath caught. 

“I knew it when I left,” his voice was soft, “I mean, I must have felt it before. But when I got to Edmonton, Vancouver and all the way back in Dallas. I couldn’t sleep. And I know now that the reason was you.”

Lucy’s eyes burned as tears threatened to spill. She had been feeling so many emotions that she couldn’t fathom how to reply to what she just heard. She hated that he had kept leaving Raleigh from her. That he lied about staying in Carolina for so long that she still was clearing real estate ads from her browsing history. And she hated that he cared, because she cared for him too. 

It would be so much easier to forget the pain he had put her through if she had never cared. 

Instead of telling him how she felt, Lucy’s mind focused on the one thing she knew how to put into words at that moment. “I have a plane to catch.”

“Okay,” Mikko nodded. If her aversion to his confessions hurt him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he smiled softly as he reached for her bag and spoke without hesitation. “I’ll drive you.”

***

The drive to the airport was quiet, the only conversation made through lingering glances. Even when stuck in traffic – when her mind and heart racing because of the sheer presence of him – she couldn’t find anything to say. Instead, she sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes stealing glances when she thought his eyes would be fixated on the road. But at stop lights, or when they were left kissing the bumper of the car in front of them, she would catch his eyes lingering on her just long enough for the corner of his lips to form a soft smile. 

When they pulled up to departures, Lucy got out of the car before he could even think about saying goodbye. She pulled open the back seat, grabbed her bags as if her flight was going to take off any minutes without her – because she knew it was – and turned on her heels to make a run for it. 

A run for the plan and away from facing the reality that was Mikko flying all the way to Carolina. For her. 

But then she froze. Hesitation holding her in place on the curb. Her luggage fell from her hold, clamoring against the ground as she turned to face Mikko. He was standing just outside the driver’s side door, his arm slung over the driver’s side door as he watched her. 

Then, before her brain could register what she was doing, Lucy stepped off the curb. Quick steps carried her around the car rushing right to him. Her arms stretched out, wrapping around Mikko’s neck as he leaned in to meet her. Their lips met in a firm kiss. One that was deep, and quick, and desperate to make up for the too many days they had spent apart – and all the mistakes that were made. His arm wrapped around her, his large hands splaying over her back as if he could draw her in any closer. And the tears she had been holding back, were finally slipping down her cheeks. 

When they both finally pulled back, Lucy was clinging to him. Not ready to let go. Not yet. Not when there was so much left to be said. 

“When do you get back?” he asked slowly. 

“In a week,” she whispered. 

“When you do…” he spoke slowly, cautiously, “I’d like to pay for you to come visit me in Dallas.”

She nodded slowly, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck just a little closer. 

“And until then, I’ll call you? You’ll answer?””

“Yeah, I will,” she assured. 

“Good,” Mikko sighed, a smile tugging wider, “Because if I’m going to convince you to come to Dallas with me, I’m going to have to start now.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Lucy scoffed slowly. 

“I can be very persuasive, Lulu.” 

“Don’t tease me with a good time Mikko,” Lucy sighed, her playfulness beginning to leech back into her words. “Not when I’m about to fly away.”

Silently, Lucy pulled back her eyes fixated on him until she joined her luggage on the curb. She gathered it quickly, praying that she could make it through security and to her terminal before final boarding. 

She ran through the airport with a smile that she hadn’t worn in months. Even if running made her ass jiggle, her breast hurt, and her shoes were in no way made for running. There was no amount of discomfort that could take away from what she had to look forward to when she got back. 

She would see Mikko again, for this wasn’t goodbye. It was just the beginning for something and she was ready to see where it led. 

***

One Week Later…

Lucy was tired of travelling. From the delayed flights, to the child that kicked the back seat the entire way to Dallas, it made her never want to set foot on another plane. Or maybe it was the dehydration from her steady diet of complimentary resort alcohol, her aching sunburn, or the ungodly number of hours she had spent in airports just to get to Dallas. She’d flown from Cuba to Atlanta, then Raleigh, only to turn around and connect to Dallas — all because she needed more than bikinis and a sarong to survive Texas. But it was finally over.

She followed the crowd through the airport, her carry on slung over her shoulder and her headphones in. The crowd slowly began to thin, people staying off to baggage claim, but she pushed onward. She had only travelled with the one bag. Her stepped hastened, her heart thundering in her ears, drowning out the music as she rounded the corner into the arrivals area. 

There she saw him. Standing tall and holding a sign with her name written across it in bold as if she wouldn't be able to spot him in the crowd. He held it high, his eyes searching for her – and when he saw her his smile grew and lit her with an excitement she felt every time they were in the same room.

It took all of her strength not to run to him, but there was no being coy about how much she missed him.

He dropped the sign the moment she was in arms reach, their bodies finding each other in that same embrace she hadn’t wanted to leave a week before. 

“I was going to get an Uber,” she muttered. 

“I thought I’d give you a ride,” he spoke into her hair, the heat of his words blossoming over the top of her head – fuck, she would never get over how big he was.

“I think someone missed me,” she teased. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits in a quiet confession, “I have missed you every single day since I left Raleigh.”

She tried to swallow back the lump that was suddenly in her throat, but couldn’t quite make it go away. There was no avoiding the conversation now. Not when she had flown all the way there to face it. 

“Sounds like you’ve had a steady diet of adrenaline and regret.”

Mikko laughed softly, “Something like that, yeah – don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, but the Dallas nutritionist has nothing on you. Their smoothie bar is–”

“You still drink it?” she cut him off with a laugh. 

“Of course I do,” Mikko said and his arm fell around her shoulders, carefully guiding her off to the parking garage. 

“Good, means you didn’t just bring me over here to make you smoothies,” her tone was teasing before it fell back into the seriousness of their conversation. “So, what happens now?” 

“Well…” he hummed, taking her carry on from her casually. “You’re here for just a few days right?”

“The weekend.” 

“Well, I’ll show you around. My apartment, and Dallas.”

“And then?”

“That depends, what are the chances I can convince you to stay longer?” 

Lucy stopped  just outside the airport doors, her head leaning back to look up at Mikko as he towered over her. “How much longer?” 

Her heart hammered against her chest

Mikko stood across from her, looking down at her with a playful smirk. “I was thinking eight years, at least.”

“That’s going to take a lot of convincing,” Lucy had meant for her words to be playful, but they came out as a mere whisper. 

“I’ve found I can be quite persuasive,” Mikko countered. 

He leaned in just enough to tease her with the ghost of a kiss that he could have given her. Then, he drew back, his hand slipping down the length of her arm to hold her hand as he led her out into Dallas. His home, and if he played his cards right, it would be her home too. 

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50 , @hagelpoint-3821 , @macklin-celebrini-71 , @m00nlightdelights , @laurenairay , @idonthaveaclue , @dasiysthings

Join my taglist.

[willyonice]

reading through some articles outlining the testimony in the hockey canada case and

the entire scenario is pornographic which leads the question of where these boys even got the idea of doing something like this from

there was this bizarre video filmed after the entire assault ended where EM states that she consented to everything and that she liked it except there’s no proof that video wasn’t taken under duress?? logically speaking if she felt threatened enough to participate in sex acts against her will how does it track she wouldn’t have felt threatened into filming this video? also it sounds like McLeod coached her on what to say before recording the video. the other disturbing facet is that in the group chat when all the boys are getting their story straight they seem to convince themselves that the existence of this video clears them of all wrong doing- against the video that can’t be proven to not be taken under duress and was recorded after the fact not prior to the assault. just weird to me that these boys thought the words “I consent” being spoken in any context was a get out of jail free card.

there was a group chat where all the guys got their stories straight as soon as they found out this was being investigated. the texts are clearly the boys trying to figure out what to say to get out of being in trouble. they are not recollecting events in a neutral way at all. “all we have to say is…” and then the guys come up with the plan to say she was begging for it. why someone felt the need to film that weird consent video if she was begging for it all night doesn’t really make sense to me, it feels like the kind of thing you do to cover yourself when you know you took something too far. even McLeod knew the videos were weird and suspicious because he asked the group chat what he should tell investigators if they questioned why he had taken the videos

steenbergen’s testimony strikes me as inconsistent. he seems to contradict himself and at one point suggests that whoever recorded the statements he made in 2022 “miswrote” his statements which EM was found to be an unreliable witness with a tendency to blame others yet this guy is allowed to not get his story straight and pin it one someone else? He also insists he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening in the room and yet what he says about what he witnesses is supposed to be taken seriously?

statements made in the 2022 investigation related to the civil suit where deemed inadmissible - at one point Formenton lied about seeing Dube slap EM and then admits to the lie in a subsequent interview 4 days later and says he lied because Dube asked him too. Formenton also describes seeing Dube pick up a golf club and “swing it in EM’s direction” while she’s on the ground after Dube has already slapped her

howden develops selective memory loss and conveniently not recall “the details that are particularly damning to his friends and teammates” in 2018 he stated that he saw EM put her clothes on and try to leave and that Formenton asked him if he was “allowed to do this” before following EM into the bathroom. his whole testimony is a mess that contradicts a lot of what he said in 2022 and 2018 atp I don’t think anyone’s testimony is “credible”. Brett Howden is a weak man is all that can be said for how he conducted himself

I would like to return to the group chat. One thing many of the players stated in their testimony is that they gathered in the hotel room and where hanging out and EM was flirting with everyone trying to get them to have sex and they all declined her but in the group chat they all establish that what they’re going to say they gathered to hang out and eat food and she was the one who was pressuring everyone. The problem w/ this version of events is that McLeod got everyone to come to the room by sending a text to the group chat that said some to my room if you want to have a threesome and then also got guys to come into the room by asking guys if they wanted a blowjob and per witness testimony the interaction went that McLeod was doing all the talking and EM was silent so how does it make any sense these guys were in this room for a wholesome good time and just stumbled into depravity

McLeod’s report to the London police in 2018 did not include any mention of EM asking him to invite other players into the hotel room that was a detail he added later in subsequent interviews. EM has maintained the whole time that she did not know that McLeod sent a text telling guys to come to his room and she would perform sex acts on them. McLeod’s attorney argued that McLeod neglected this detail in that initial interview because he wasn’t formally charged so he did prepare as throughly for the interview as someone facing charges would have. An 18/19 year old boy isn’t taking a police interview about a sexual encounter with a drunk girl seriously because he hasn’t been charged with anything?? is that likely ?

I knew the details were going to be frustrating when I finally looked into them but I didn’t expect this. EM literally said in her testimony that she did what she felt she had to so that she could leave the room alive. Even if she did sober up through this encounter; she’s alone with a crowd of men she doesn’t know who have been invited into this room with the expectation she perform sexually for them. The men (who all state they can’t recall certain details of the night) say they don’t recall her being slapped degraded or spit on but EM testified she was being slapped spit on and degraded. One of these men (Dillon Dube) picks up a golf club and is swinging it in the room so you’re already afraid these men are going to let you leave alive and now one of them is holding a weapon. Even in the way the men tried to protect each other it’s obvious they understand they did something wrong. This case is insane in how clear it actually is that they all know what they did. The not guilty verdict was a reflection of the legal system’s inability to adequately handle situations like this, not the innocence of those 5 players

[willyonice]

7.19.25 via brookeawright1

[willyonice]

;; Sister of the Groom

Summary: Your big brother Jordan is finally getting married, and as his wedding planner you have been more than involved with his big day. From planning to being a member of the bridal party you're ready to let loose and have your team take over for the night. Being the planner also helped keep you from being blindsided when your ex-hookup, Vince Dunn, arrived to support his ex-teammate. Worst of all, even after 4 years apart, the attraction is still there. Kinks, Tropes & TW: Sister of the groom, Binnington!reader, player's sister!reader, wedding planner!reader, bridesmaid!reader, situationship, "exes" to lovers, secret relationship, unprotected sex, car sex, implied jealousy, implied caught feelings. Word Count: 4358 Note: I used a different editing software to edit this fic. So please if anyone could reach out and let me know if there was like any improvement in it, that would be great.

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl @wingedwheelprxncess @misunderstoodwerewolf @callsign-denmark @puckmaidens @xcicix - I swear I'm going to get better at remembering to do this.

While Earth had four seasons, your life had two: hockey season and wedding season. 

It was a peaceful harmony. A perfect balance between work and play, as a wedding planner - but this season was different because your big brother was finally getting married. You had written off your entire wedding season for it. You turned many offers to plan the weddings for hockey superstars like Tyler Seguin and Brady Tkachuk. Jordan and Cristine were your utmost priority. It left you wearing many hats. From being the wedding planner to the sister of the groom to the bridesmaid, you didn’t know a moment of calm. That was until the morning of the wedding, when Cristine put the first drink in your hand. 

You sipped mimosas at breakfast. 

You had done a shot of Crown Royal with Jordan and your sisters, Sydney and Callie, moments before he walked down the aisle. 

Going into the evening, you remained in the state of a pleasant buzz that you would not let yourself push past into intoxication. It would be too much of a risk if something went wrong. It was a far too dangerous thing for the sake of the wedding, especially when your ex was there. Well, he wasn’t your ex, not really.

You and Vince Dunn had never been official. 

The two of you never went on any dates, but you and Vince had been hooking up since he and Jordan played on the Chicago Wolves roster together. But it never got more serious than that. It was the occasional fuck when you both were back home in Ontario for the summer. Or when you had been down to visit in whatever city your brother called home. It all ended with the expansion draft. It was the moment he uprooted his life that had mere glimmers of you in it and moved to Seattle. 

Vince quickly faded into a memory of your young adulthood, becoming nothing more than someone who once knew your body better than anyone. Someone that you only thought about when the weather was just right or when his name came up in conversation. It always left you with a faint smile, fond of the unspeakable memories that the two of you shared. When you saw his name on the guest list, you wore that same smile. Then again, when you saw he sent back his RSVP without a plus one. 

You should have known better to go into the night thinking you could control yourself with him around. Especially once you caught sight of him in the beige suit that almost looked pink as you helped the photographer with the pictures at sunset. You couldn’t help but stare. Your eyes flashed over how his button-down shirt would grow tight over his chest as he threw his arms around his former teammates. And they fixed on his smile as it tugged at his cheeks so playfully. Not once did you look away from him. Vince and how his curls hung down into his forehead or from how his suit fit him just right. Nor could you ignore how his laugh consumed him so fully. 

That was until his eyes fixated on you in return. 

A heavy breath coursed through you, your eyes falling to the grass before you fell into a full retreat towards the reception hall. You lost yourself in the crowd, the toasts, and the occasional comfort that came from sipping champagne when you felt the buzz beginning to fade. But not even drinking could rid your mind of his green eyes and how you could feel him staring at you. They were on you as you sat at the head table with the rest of the bridal party for dinner. And they followed you again as you took to the dance floor to kick off the evening with a dance. 

You let your eyes find him again in the crowd as you danced with the groomsman who had also walked you down the aisle during the ceremony. His hand was low on your back, his fingers wrinkling the blush satin fabric as you danced. But your mind was all too distracted to enjoy the moment. Your eyes found Vince at the edge of the dance floor. His head cocked to the side as his eyes dragged up and down your figure. And when he noticed you staring back, he smirked. 

He instantly knew that, even after four years, he still had his hold on you. 

Biting your lip, you glanced towards the bathroom. The song was slowly fading into the next and joined the voice of the DJ as he welcomed the rest of the guests to the dancefloor. It was the perfect opportunity. Your eyes found Vince again, glancing one more time towards the bathroom before you were slipping from the groomsmen’s hold. His hands travelled down the length of your arms, desperate to hold on to you - to keep dancing with you. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to use the washroom,” you said, offering him your soft excuses. 

It wasn’t a complete lie. You fully intended to slip away into the bathroom, but you would not use it as it was meant to be used. You would clear each stall, then desecrate every virtuous value weddings uphold in one of its stalls. Or maybe you’d let him fuck you on the countertop or against the door if you were feeling so bold.  

Your heart jumped into your throat, the beat of it synonymous with the bass of the music as your every step carried you towards the bathroom door. Eyes fixated on it, and you took steady breaths to keep yourself calm. 

The music that played and the glow of the surrounding lights left you feeling as if you were in a dream. That at any moment, you would wake up in a cold sweat in your hotel room bed alone. But the touch of a large hand against the small of your back confirmed that this was all very much reality. 

“Hello, Princess,” Vince said. You could barely hear him over the music, but you felt his hot words against the shell of your ear and in your hair that was slowly losing its style. It would be nothing more than a mess of curls by the time he was done with you. 

“Vince,” was all you could manage, his voice a mere breath on your lips as your eyes felt the bathroom door and fell on his features. 

He hadn’t changed all that much since you last saw him. He was still as pretty as ever. Your lips parted to tease him, only to be reduced to silence as the careful pressure of his hand guided you away from the bathroom door and towards the foyer. 

Your head cocked to the side, a brow raising. Where was he taking you?

Your steps didn’t falter, the music and lights fading behind you and into the calm of night on the patio. Minutes ago, before the first dance, the patio was full of guests smoking cigars and enjoying the night air, but with the first dances of the night captivating, there were only a few stragglers to catch you and Vince sneaking away. None of them knew you both enough to say a word as he led you to the fence that divided the patio from the path to the parking lot. He left you void of his touch for a moment as he hopped over the fence before extending his hand to you to help you over. 

One hand found his hand while the other hiked up your dress, giving him a good look at the length of your legs as you hopped the fence yourself. It wasn’t the most graceful attempt you could have made, but his hands were quick to find your waist. His hold kept you steady on your feet before he lead you off to the parking lot. 

At first, you were going to question it, but it made the most sense. No one would leave the venue for hours, and the only interruption you’d get would be from the valet. Whereas in the bathroom, there would be a constant cycle of women needing to pee, photo ops, and the occasional guest who would need to vomit after drinking far too much. The bathroom came with too great of a risk of being caught by your mother, your sisters, or the wives and girlfriends of one of his teammates. But in the parking lot, there would be no one to catch you there. 

He weaved you through the lot, in between cars until he led you to one that was clearly a rental and leaned up against the hood. Vince propped his leg up so that his bright white, never-been-worn-before sneaker rested up against the car’s fender. Then he patted the hood casually. The impact was a simple invitation to join him, one that left you leaning up against the car at his side. 

The cool night air sent a shiver down your spine and you crossed your arms over your chest to keep the goosebumps from rising. But Vince was already doing you one better. He had reached back and pulled off his blazer and draped it over your shoulders as he spoke. 

“It’s been a long time, Princess. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you said slowly, simply. Nervous, you swallowed back anything more complicated than you could have said to him. You hadn’t gone out there for a conversation, you wanted him to touch you. 

“Things are good,” you repeated, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as they raised from tracing over your silhouette again, “How’s Seattle?”

His smile grew, and your heart fluttered. His smile always made you weak for him.

“It’s great,” Vince answered, “we actually made the playoff this year-”

You cut him off with a laugh, your hand coming up to rest over your lips before you could stop yourself. “I know. I didn’t stop watching hockey just because you don’t play with my brother anymore.”

At that moment, you already knew you had said too much, and Vince wasn’t going to let it go. 

“You watch my games?”

Every single one. 

“When I can,” you lied, “the team had an incredible season.” 

And so did you. 

He had reached career highs in every category. Goals. Assists. Points. He hit milestones for them all as he helped take the team to the second round. A round you still believed they deserved to win over the Dallas Stars - but fate had other plans for them. Maybe he could help take them all the way next year, but first, he would need to sign a contract extension. 

You knew it would be the last thing he wanted to talk about. So, it became the last thing on your mind as you watched him reach up to push his fingers through his thick curls. They raked through each strand, breaking up his curls before letting them fall back into place. It left you to breathe out a long exhale, fighting back the fuck that craved to be cursed on the end of your tongue. Vince knew exactly what he was doing by enticing you with his curls. You had once loved to stroke your fingers through them - to use them as your anchor as he fucked you - and now it was all you were thinking about as he hummed. 

“We’ll be better next year.”

“Oh?” you raised a brow at him as you turned in place to face him fully. You had to fight the urge to hitch up your skirt and climb onto his lap. Instead, you lingered at the front of the car, standing between his knees. “Am I getting the inside scoop from Vince Dunn himself?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, a slight laugh in his words, “Nothing yet, but I want to stay there. They drafted me. They wanted me on their team,” he said, smiling. “It’s like home, but it’s complicated. You know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, “I know.”

Your brother was in the NHL. You knew how complicated the lifestyle could be. Their worlds revolved around the game and the team. More often than not, the rest of their lives had to be put on hold. Some players would go without relationships and families. Others left the home and the children under the control of their wives and any support they would need to raise them. Hockey season was the very reason you and Cristine had done all the wedding planning without Jordan. But Dunn, he never had that. He didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend or kids. Instead, Vince had hockey season and an off-season, which was dedicated to training for the next season. He just had hockey. And well, you. 

“So you, ah,” Vince hesitated, “You bring a date to this thing?”

Your cheeks flushed, your hand coming down to rest on each of his thighs as you stood between them. “No, I came alone.”

Vince straightened up, sliding down the hood of the car so his feet rested firmly on the ground. It was there his hands found your waist and held you near as he quirked up his brow. “And the groomsmen you were dancing with?”

“Was a formality,” you assured him. 

“He was handsy,” Vince said, his words a complaint. It left you smiling.

“He was,” you confirmed, leaning in oh so slightly. “Are you jealous?”

Vince looked away, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought about just what to say. Was jealousy even in his vocabulary? 

Was it in yours? 

For years, you had been on-again-off-again hooking up between his temporary flings and your attempts at a stable relationship. And not once had either of you tried to interfere. There were no strings that tied you to one another, and yet you always found your way back to his bed after what seemed to be an inevitable breakup. Even now, four years later, you were still single, and from what you could tell, so was he, and you were both so quick to want to fall back into your old habits. 

“If I was?” Vince answered after a moment, his words more of a challenge than a clue to how he felt about seeing you dancing with someone else. 

Smiling, you leaned in so that you spoke softly into his ear, “I think I could think of a few ways to put you at ease.” As you spoke, your hand that was resting on his thigh travelled up. Up over the strength of his muscle and between his legs to stroke his cock through his trousers. 

“Fuck,” he cursed out, his bright eyes falling shut as you felt him grow stiff beneath your touch. “I left the doors unlocked. Get in the backseat. Panties off, Princess.”

Easing back, you cast a glance over the parking lot that was consumed by the amber glow of dusk. You looked for any sign of anyone who could catch the two of you in the back seat, and when you found no one, you moved to the backdoor of the car and crawled inside. 

It wasn’t the most spacious of cars, the back seat narrow and the roof low as you laid out on the seat and hitched your dress up high on your hips. The slinky fabric threatened to slip with your every movement as you hooked your thumbs around your seamless panties and guided them down your legs before they slipped down your calves. When they reached your ankles, you kicked them down to the tips of your toes and let them slide to the floor.

While it hadn’t been the most elegant way of undressing, nor the most comfortable with the seat belt buckle digging into your back, it captured Vince’s attention all the same. Vince made his way to the back door you had left open, one arm propping himself up against the car while the other fell to his too-white belt around his waist. Lazily tugging at his belt, his pants became loose around his hips. Then, he worked the button and the zipper, free with a single hand, his eyes not once leaving you as you lay propped up on the narrow seat. You could feel his stare drag down your face and over the angles of your body before his eyes fixated between your legs. 

Vince ran his tongue over his lower lip hungrily, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you suddenly remembered the last time you had Vince between your thighs. It was the night of the Stanley Cup Parade. His intoxication was so severe he staggered into his apartment, and you were no better. No amount of foreplay could keep his cock hard, and so he lay with you in bed for what seemed like hours, his head between your thighs. His tongue and fingers had brought you to your climax once and then again and again. Vince hadn’t stopped until your clit grew too sensitive to touch and he sobered up enough to keep his cock hard.  

His tongue and fingers alone brought you some of the most intense organisms you ever felt - that was once you showed him where exactly your clit was. And the sex that followed only left your legs trembling and your body reeling with pleasure. 

You wouldn’t have the same luxuries of foreplay now as you lay there, waiting, in the back seat of his car. 

With his pants falling, pooling around his knees, Vince hopped into the car and shut the door firmly behind him. Then came the awkwardness of you both trying to get into just the right spot. His large body was between your legs as you propped a foot up on the back seat. Then the center console. Finally, your foot settled on the back of the driver’s seat headrest. He was stroking his eager cock as he contorted his body just right. You were sure his back was aching with the arch he needed to maintain as he guided you up the seat awkwardly until you ‌lined up with the tip of his cock just right. And before one of you could slip, he thrust his cock inside you in one swift motion. 

There was a sting of resistance in your core. Your body was not quite ready for him, and it left you cursing as he pressed his hips flush with yours. Vince braced himself against the backseat, remaining still inside you as your walls broadened to accommodate him. The lack of foreplay and the unfamiliar sting only indulge your pleasure. It left your core aching for the thrust of his cock and the rocking of your hips. Feeling him fill you up with every inch of his cock so fully. It made you wet. 

“That’s my girl,” Vince said, his words a satisfied hum as a smile spread across his features. Then, let his hips take their first teasing roll. “Always get so good and wet for me.”

Your teeth came down on your lower lip at his praise. You threw your head back into the seat, biting down harder. But there was no stopping the sweet “‌fuck” that slipped from your lips as you felt him draw out halfway and plunge his inches back into your desperate core. 

Vince let his hips roll over and over. A smile of satisfaction grew on your face as your expression softened with pleasure. His hand left the back seat and dropped to your cheek carefully. His thumb dragged over your cheek, and settled on your lips - his focus on the swell you had coaxed to your bottom lip as he said: “So ‌beautiful-”

You couldn’t take hearing his words, his praise, so you silenced him. You stole the space between you, your lips finding him as effortlessly as you had many times before. It was so easy to fall back into old habits with him. To kiss him and to have Vince kiss you in return while he buried his cock in your tight cunt​​‌. To bite his lip, just to coax a moan from his lips against your own just so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. You knew his every weakness. Every move or trick to bring him closer and closer to his release - and he knew the same for you. 

With your tongue stroking along his in his mouth, you could taste the familiar flavour of champagne that was served at every table. It left you completely intoxicated by him, your body on high alert as it recognized his every touch, kiss, and thrust. The pleasure left your head spinning, your lips parting in a moan that you didn’t even attempt to hold back. And you only became louder as he tugged your hair aside just enough for his lips to kiss down the angle of your neck. Desperate, you reached out to grasp at anything for support. Your hand fisted his shirt when they couldn’t carefully surround the seat beneath you. From there, you were a goner. Your moans left your throat raw and your words left your lips before you could stop yourself from saying them. 

“Fuck,” you cursed out, your words lacing with your desperate moan, “I missed this. I missed you-” 

You almost choked on your words. Your eyes burned as they threatened to water at the realization of what you just said. You silently cursed yourself, suddenly unable to meet his eye. If Vince asked, it would be hard for you to take back what you said - to deny that he crossed your mind almost daily for the last four years. 

Yet, he didn’t question a thing. He only smiled against the delicate skin of your neck and let out those soft groans he couldn’t stop himself from holding back when he was close. 

Your lips pulled back into a smirk as you dropped your heel from the back of the headrest and pressed it into the small of his back with zero hesitation. The simple action coaxed a deeper groan from his lips. 

“Are you sure?” Vince asked. His words were breathy against your neck before he dragged a messy kiss along the sweet angle of your neck. 

It left you gasping as you lifted your head from the cushion of his seat just to get a good look at his cock slipping in and out of your cunt. The sight alone left you speaking through grit teeth - you were so close, “If you don’t, you’re going to ruin my dress-”

And his rental car and you didn’t want to have to worry about cleaning up either. 

Nodding slowly, Vince buried his face into your hair. You could feel his every heavy breath wash over you. The heat of his breath blossomed over your neck and became a sweet melody with his moans. Moans softened and broke with every thrust and became strangled by his climax. 

You nearly let your eyes roll back in your own pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut as your own orgasm coursed through you when you felt it. His every thick web of cum flooded your cunt after his last thrust left him buried balls deep in your core. 

With your legs wrapped around your middle, you both remained there in his back seat until the desperate panting of your lungs subsided. It was then you let your heels slip off his hips and let Vince ease from his place between your legs. You winced at the void feeling that was left there. The only thing remaining was his cum that threatened to spill from your cunt. 

Sighing, you reached for your panties on the floor, your fingers untangling the flimsy fabric quickly. Then, with your hips tilted up to keep his cum from slipping from you before you worked the panties up your trembling legs. The highs of your orgasm still lingered as Vince offered you his hand. You took it carefully, using it to steady yourself as your legs threatened to give out beneath you when your feet hit the pavement. 

You offered him a half smile, and you let his hand fall. You needed to return to the reception. This was where your night with him ended. With the help of the reflection of his car window, you straightened out your dress and fixed your hair just right. Then you began your walk back inside without a thought as to if Vince was following you back inside or not. 

You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in him any further tonight. 

Not at your own brother’s wedding. 

Dim lights greeted you in the reception hall. A song that could have only been a request from a guest because it was not on the playlist you and Cristine put together accompanied their amber glow. Hearing it had you gravitating towards the DJ to direct him back to the curated list when you felt a hand engulf your wrist. You held your breath and your head snapped around to find Vince. He still wore that same confident smirk he had on while he was fucking you, but his eyes were playful now. With a careful tug, he was guiding you out to the dance floor. 

“Vince,” you said his name alone. A caution to him as your eyes searched the dancefloor for your brother. 

With his eyes glazed over from his intoxication, Jordan was standing mere feet away. If he saw you, he may not even remember it come morning. Yet, Vince kept the dance playful and unthreatening to your honour. That was until the song changed and slowed. It was then he pulled you in, your body flush with him as the two of you swayed to the melody. There, he buried his nose into your hair so you could feel his hot breath wash over the shell of your ear as he said those oh-so-complicated words, “I missed you, too.”

[willyonice]

if ur into hockey you also need to like at least 1 player that fucking sucks. its good for your health

[willyonice]

my hand is over my mouth

[willyonice]

I just think marner would’ve liked dc that’s all

[willyonice]

corporate needs you to find the difference

[willyonice]

Not me frantically collecting every picture of Nicklas Backstrom I can find because ONE WEEK FROM NOW his contract is "technically" "done" and I will have to reckon with the reality of him no longer being signed to the Washington Capitals and I don't have enough tissues to handle that.

[willyonice]

Checkout by Caroline Bird

[willyonice]

Checkout by Caroline Bird

[willyonice]

I wish for every historian, soon-to-be historian and history lover to discover one day something very specific and unknown about their fave, and become famous in a small circle of scholars who are just as obsessed about them as you are.

[willyonice]

If seeing Joe Burrow, a man who will never know you, out with someone bothers you that much then maybe it's time you step away from the internet for a bit. And I'm saying that in a kind way. Nothing like this should ever rile you up to the point where it's all you talk about.

Joe is a grown man and you don't have to like his choices. I get that, fully, but there are limits to the amount of vitriol spewed. Some of the comments I've seen here for months now are disgusting.

I never want to seem like I'm holier than thou but this community has changed so much and not in a good way. Right now we need joy and light in this world and so many of us use this as an escape and we should try to use it that way 🤍

[willyonice]

Florida Panthers star Matthew Tkachuk said he will take a few weeks to decide whether the injuries which cost him the final 25 games of the regular season will require surgery.

Tuesday night, Tkachuk made public what his injuries were.

“I know I tore my adductor [muscle] right off the bone,” Tkachuk said after Tuesday’s 5-1 win in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Final. “I did not think I was going to be able to play.’’

Tkachuk also sustained a sports hernia on the same side, explaining the flak jacket he was seen wearing around.

If Tkachuk needs surgery on either injury — or, perhaps both — he would likely miss all of training camp and the start of the following season.

“I’ve got to go through some steps here and then see if I need surgery or not,’’ Tkachuk said at Florida’s exit day at the arena on Saturday. 

“It’s going to take a few weeks to determine if I need it. It’s probably 50-50, right now. I don’t know if it’ll be a normal summer or not. I hope so. I’m not just going to jump right into surgery without talking to everybody and going through everything. I have a few weeks here where I can figure it out.”

Tkachuk confirmed  on Tuesday that he traveled to Europe following his ‘lower body’ injury sustained at the 4 Nations Face-Off in February.

“I went to so many places, like five different cities,’’ Tkachuk said on Tuesday. “The doctors and trainers here were unbelievable. But I went to a bunch of places, and it got me to the point of playing.”

And the pain?

“It was [freaking] brutal,’’ Tkachuk said.

Saturday, Tkachuk said he was going to enjoy the team celebrations before making any further decisions.

He said he plans to bring the Stanley Cup back home to St. Louis and do many of the things he did with it last summer.

“I don’t really think I’m going to change much with how I’m celebrating,’’ Tkachuk said. “I’m really excited for my day with the cup in St Louis. I don’t know when it is yet, but I’m already looking to do a lot of the same things I did with the Children’s Hospital and bring it to the police and fire station, and then having a party for my friends and family.

“I think probably will definitely savor more moments just because of how much harder this year was for myself, personally, with what happened. So this year was really rewarding for for me, and it was a grind. So I’m going to enjoy this one and just take a step back when this is all done — the parade and everything — and just be really proud of how it all went down.”

via Florida Hockey Now

[willyonice]

Matthew saying Connor will win “wherever that is” is possibly the most ratty thing he could do, and he just stomped all over that man’s hopes and dreams for a second time 🤣