Finding Hearts

“I’m so pissed you’re making me do this,” Angel grumbled, flattening out her simple black dress.

Alisa rolled her eyes, finishing up an eager text to Geno, bragging about how drop dead gorgeous her best friend looked. Alisa knew Angel’s personality, it was much like her own, and they were two of the same. Guys weren’t meant to be trusted; they’re all liars, cheaters and heart breakers. This especially applies to hockey players, the worst breed of men, the true players- on and off the ice. However, Alisa had known Geno for years and if there was anybody who could break down Angel’s walls and win her heart, it was him.

“Shut up,” Alisa demanded, dropping her phone on the zebra print sheets, “You look beautiful, and he’s going to look as handsome as ever, you two will hit it off.”

Angel spun around, shooting her friend a death glare, “He doesn’t even speak English!”

Alisa shrugged, she had thought about that. Evgeni’s thick accent and broken English was going to be a barrier for the pair’s conversation, but if he could be understood by twenty or so teammates, one woman wouldn’t be that difficult.

“You’ll understand him,” she said simply, waiting for the next argument.

Rolling her eyes, Angel turned back to her mirror, fixing her dark hair, “Why couldn’t you have picked a teammate and doubled with us. That way this would be less uncomfortable, and you could be a translator or something.”

Alisa cringed at the thought and shook her head, “Absolutely not. I have no interest whatsoever in one of his teammates. He’s the only potentially dateable one on the team, and I’ve known him too long to even consider that.”

Scoffing in reply, Angel finished putting her second earring in and glanced at Alisa through the mirror, “Save the bullshit. You’ve never had a real conversation with any of them, so you cannot say they’re un-dateable.”

Alisa realized that she was, indeed, right. Sure, she’d been to many parties, and many games, but her conversations with them were always short and sweet. She didn’t know any defining details of their lives, or even their eye colors, but she had watched them with women. Lots of women. That alone was reason enough to put a red ‘X’ over all of their names.

Alisa was about to argue when the doorbell rang. Her eyes drifted up from Angel’s bed to see her frozen. She started panicking, fixing her hair, double checking her eye makeup and talking a mile a minute. Alisa sighed, standing up and walking to her best friend, who was towering over her in height, and reached up and placed her hands on her shoulders, calming her down.

“Stop.”

Angel blinked, nodding.

“You look sexy,” she said quietly, “Now, let’s not keep him waiting, he might think he’s being stood up.”

Rolling her eyes, Angel plastered a smile on her lips and walked out of the room and down the few steps of the small, second floor of their apartment. Alisa followed behind her and leaned against the wall of the kitchen, waiting for their eyes to meet for the first time. She was giddy with excitement; she had full faith in this match up.

Angel grabbed the doorknob and took a breath, opening it.

Alisa’s smile widened when she saw Geno in a black dress shirt and nice jeans. She watched Angel stumble over finding her words, so she figured she should step up.

“Hey G,” She said.

Geno’s eyes finally left Angel and he looked at Alisa, smiling, “Hey.”

“You two have fun,” She grinned, flashing them both a wink before turning away, “She better come back smiling,” she warned in Russian.

Once she was upstairs, Geno looked back at the girl in front of him. He didn’t know her, not one bit. The only thing he knew about her was her first name. He’d be lying if he said he was looking forward to this, he hated this type of thing and by the look on her face he’s pretty sure she agreed. However, she was a pretty girl and there was nothing wrong with getting to know a pretty girl.

“Evgeni,” He stuck out his hand.

She flashed him an award winning smile and took it, shaking lightly, “Angel.”

“Dinner, Angel?” He asked in his thick, musky voice.

Angel nodded, “I’d love to.”



Alisa looked up from the couch as Angel walked in and stripped off her heels. Alisa took note that she had returned home, so she hadn’t ripped Geno’s clothes off and got her way with him. Without saying a word, Angel walked passed her and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before walking back into the living room, plopping on the couch, and silently watching TV.

Alisa rolled her eyes; she knew what she was doing.

“How’d it go?” she asked, shoving her lightly.

“Awful.”

Alisa frowned, saddened by her answer, “Really?”

Angel smirked and looked at her best friend, “No. He’s a nice guy, we’re going out again on Friday.”

“Yes!” Alisa cheered, throwing her fist in the air, “Yes, yes, yes!”