He knew now that he wasn’t playing, his name would begin to fade from people’s memories. His face wouldn’t be instantly recognised by sports fans, and he would have to move back into the real world.
Examining his feelings about that, he was surprised when it didn’t feel bad, and he actually liked the idea of a normal life. With a dirty car because no one cared if it was clean and an anonymous existence where he wasn’t on display.
He was already getting a taste for that life living in Australia, having discovered no one really cared about ice hockey.
“Sorry. The car’s a mess.” Hel unlocked the door and opened it for him.
“No problems.” Frost hoisted himself out of the chair and hopped into the car, slightly disappointed when she didn’t put a hand on his arm to steady him.
Hel walked around to the driver’s side and chucked her workbag over the seat into the back of the car. Frost frowned when he noticed her bag was a reusable supermarket shopping bag and her rear seat was piled high with similar bags. Was she moving?
“I’ll be a few minutes taking the wheelchair back. Don’t puke in my car.” Hel peered in at him, giving him a cheeky grin.
“Ha ha,” Frost said sarcastically, as she walked away laughing.
Frost closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. He tried not to recall how he had acted earlier, but snippets kept coming back to him. He seemed to remember singing loudly. And pushing someone, who must have been one of the ambos—he liked that word—that Hel told him he had hulked out on. Shit, he was mortified.
When Hel climbed into the car, slamming the door, he peeled his eyes open, having nearly fallen asleep in the quiet.
“Do you mind if we nip to the shops? I need a couple of things, and you said you wanted milk and bread. Also, I’m treating myself to an Indian takeaway tonight. Do you want some?”
“That sounds amazing.” Frost’s mouth watered as soon as she mentioned food. He would kill for a curry, naan bread, and poppadums’. His diet was usually so bland to keep himself in peak form for hockey, but that no longer mattered. He could enjoy delicious food without guilt.
“Great. The takeaway is next to the supermarket. I’ll order when we arrive, then do the shop, and it’ll be ready when I’m done.” Hel picked up her phone and handed it to Frost. “Can you add your shopping list to the notes app? If you don’t, I’ll forget what you need the second I go in.”
“Sure.” Frost stared at the battered phone in his hand, which looked like it had survived being run over, with a dented case and cracked screen protector.
Hel glanced across at him and must have seen him turning her phone around to examine the damage. “It’s my own fault. I keep it in the top pocket of my scrubs, and every time I bend over, it hits the floor.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she didn’t buy a new one when he bit off his words, reminding himself again that not everyone was as privileged as him.
Playing with the Wombats had reminded him of that. None of the players were paid to play, they all did it because they loved it and had ‘real’ jobs outside hockey, which didn’t earn them the millions he had been contracted for.
He added his list to hers, then opened the camera app and leaned towards her.
Hel’s eyes cut to him. “What are you doing?”
“Selfie.” He snapped a photo and checked the shot. When he saw it, he began to laugh.
“What?” Hel asked.
She pulled up at some traffic lights, so Frost held her phone out to show her.
“I look absolutely terrible!” Frost said.
His hair was wild, and his stubble messy, not styled like he usually kept it. He had black rings under his eyes, and now he stared at the screen harder, he noticed some drool on his chin.
Hel looked a lot better than him, at least she hadn’t dribbled on herself—he wiped at the drool with his hand—but her mouth was wide open, and she was frowning.
“That’s awful. Why would you do that?” Hel reached out to snatch the phone, but the light went green, and she had to drive.
“It seemed like a good idea.” Frost shrugged.
“Delete it,” Hel demanded. “I look rough.”
“No, you don’t.” Frost looked again.
Her hair was wild after she had taken out her hairband and her hazel eyes sparked with outrage at him taking the photo. She may have been tired, but she looked fantastic and alive, not artificial or posed.
