My Hockey Alpha



"Nice to meet you," Mila said, extending her well-manicured hand.

Putting on a smile, I reached out and took it. Her grip was light-almost too light-and her fingers felt dainty and fragile as she shook my hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Mila," I said, making a mental note of her almost flimsy handshake.

"So, you're Enzo's special lady," she said, her eyes flicking toward Enzo for just a moment. "He talked about you so much the last time he was here."

"That's nice to hear," I replied, watching her eyes as they seemed to trace Enzo's form.

At that moment, Tim broke into our little circle. "Enzo, the team is ready. Would you like to get your gear on?"

"Absolutely, Tim. I'll head to the locker room right now," Enzo responded enthusiastically. He leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. "You good here?"

"I'm great," I said. "I've got a book to keep me company, so take your time on the ice."

He smiled at me, his eyes locking onto mine in a way that said he knew something was off but wouldn't press. Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask Tim or Mila."

"Will do," I assured him, but I was more focused on Mila, who seemed to have locked her gaze on Enzo as he started to walk away.

"Your boyfriend is quite the athlete," Mila commented, still watching him.

"Husband," I corrected her, holding my hand up to show off the two rings on my finger. "But yes, he's very passionate about what he does."

"He must be, given how toned he is," she added, finally looking back at me.

"He works hard," I said, keeping my voice neutral.

"Sure looks like it," she replied. There was a suggestive note in her voice, and I didn't like it.

"So, Mila, you're the team doctor?" I changed the subject, trying to steer the conversation away from Enzo's physical attributes.

"Yes, I've been with the team for about three years," she said, sounding far more professional now.

"Three years? You must be good at what you do, I noted.

She shrugged. "I like to think so. But it's more than just treating sports injuries; it's about keeping the team in top condition. Like your Enzo, for example. A man like that needs to be taken care of," she said, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

I was already growing sick of her innuendos. But, for Enzo's sake, I choked down my annoyance and put on a tense smile. "Of course. Athletes do need to take special care of their bodies. It is their livelihood, after all."

Mila looked like she was about to say something else, but just then, Tim poked his head back through the door." Mila, I'd like to go over some player stats before the training starts."

"Of course, Tim," she said, disengaging from our conversation with a fluid ease that made me wonder how often she found herself in such awkward interactions. "It was nice meeting you, Nina. Maybe we can chat more later?"

"Sure, sounds like a plan," I said, more relieved to have an out than anything.

As she walked away with Tim, I glanced over at the locker room door where Enzo had disappeared moments ago. The feeling of unease was still there, but so was my confidence in Enzo.

I stood by the sidelines, mesmerized by Enzo as he skated gracefully across the ice. His instructions were sharp, crisp, and full of authority. It was incredibly appealing to watch him in his element.

"Keep your weight forward!" he barked, skating circles around the players as they ran drills across the ice. "Knees bent, chin tucked!"

I was leaning against the side of the bleachers, watching him with my hands in my hoodie pockets. He had been at this for a while now, but showed no signs of fatigue yet. The team, however, was a different story. It was clear that they lacked a bit of discipline.

Suddenly, an all-too-familiar form sidled up next to me. I glanced up to see Mila standing beside me, her arms folded across her chest. Great.

"So, you're the 'team doctor' for Enzo's original hockey team?" Her voice seemed to drip with condescension, but I chalked it up to my own nerves.