Plié and Clout

Chapter 55: Showering, Please

Kinda short, enjoy tho

-rabid

***

STEPH

I'm... stunned. My heart rate is too high and I'm over the moon and back.

I manage to fight Jorgen enough to let me walk back into the locker room. I can, he re-taped up my knee and iced it, so the mild swelling from the collapse is gone, but he's going to lecture me again about it.

The guys and I go through the whole dress-down and post game hype talk before we're released to hit the weight room for about forty five minutes.

Rocket corners me on our way to work out. "You look... so out of it, what the fuck did Jorgen give you in pain killers?"

I shake my head. "Not painkillers. August came down with Jilly to make sure I wasn't dead or in need of medical transport."

He raises his eyebrows. "And how did that go?"

"I'm going over tonight." I glance up at the clock. "The second I'm done here I have one shot to explain my sorry ass."

"Oh? That's an improvement."

I nod, stringing my earbuds around my neck. "We tried to talk in there but it was just a lot of stuttering and repeating and it just wasn't working."

He gags. "Oh, no no no, yeah, she's sold on wanting you back already, you can't fuck that chat up at all. She stayed in a room with you while you were game-sweaty. I thought she just popped her head in"

"I know, right?" I laugh. "I barely want to be around myself when I'm game-sweaty."

"You better shower real thoroughly after this. I know nobody likes the team showers here but goddamn." He pats my shoulder. "Gross."

He's right about nobody liking the team showers. "At least it isn't Vancouver."

That gets a laugh. "Nothing like showering in one big room with 25 of your closest all male friends and acting like it isn't gay."

I cringe. "Nothing like knowing who has the biggest dick on the team."

Rocket and I both unknowingly glance at Paxton. Rocket sucks in a breath. "Yeah, nothing like it."

"Really... perfects that family-style team building. I have no idea why Nico makes us camp when we have to go through Vancouver's showers together."

So, we get some light weight training in and then at the end of my workout, I head to the showers with about three other people. The less people, the weirder. With more guys in there you can start up some friendly banter or chatter about the game, but when there's only four in there, talking is weird.

So I get soapy and then start trying to work the smell of dried then wet then dried sweat off my body. Rink showers really don't get it all really, I'll take it, considering I can't go home and make it to August's in a reasonable time of night; it's about 10:45 now and I still have to get dressed and talk to Jorgen about the knee and future planning on it, maybe seeing if I can bump the surgery up to during-season, probably not.

"Alright, you four."

Rocket cusses from the other side of the room. "Jesus, Nico, these are the showers."

"Right, and I've seen a dick before," she clears her throat, "so I've got a couple of little reminders about practice tomorrow and then you're free to go. It's a chill day post-game and we don't have much work to do between here and when the Wild comes at the end of the week. So, game day in the afternoon, sleep this one off and show up at one."

We all kinda nod at her.

"Alright, I'll get out of here." the door shuts and I go back to scrubbing at my hair.

"Something about the sweat smell just doesn't like coming out." Paxton mumbles from across the room.

"Baking soda." Fen supplies, "it's alkaline so it'll neutralize the sweat smell which is normally acidic."

"Well, look at you, Mr Science, but do you have any baking soda on you? Because that's the only way that'll be helpful."

"Yep," that surprises me. I turn a little to see Fen toss a bottle from his cube to Paxy's. "It's just baking soda paste, don't over do it."

"Me next." I call, "I gotta go to August's tonight and try to talk my way out of this mess. It'll probably go better if I don't reek."

"You got it." Paxton tosses me the bottle and I only manage to catch it after a couple of seconds of scrambling. "Smelling bad normally doesn't help with getting laid."

"Paxton," I laugh. "I'm not going over to get laid."

"Sure you aren't."