Chapter 10

"It's a good turnout, better than I expected," I said as I peered out at the crowd in the arena. It was nowhere near the sell out crowd I was used to but I hadn't expected it to be this full. 

"Well they did a great job of marketing it," Beth said, leaning back against the wall of the tunnel and looking back at me with this bemused expression that kind of made me want to drag her to the equipment room and kiss the look right off her face. 

"You mean you did," I reminded her. She shrugged and said nothing. She'd used the team's and my twitter page to blow this event up, not to mention facebook and every other social media outlet she could think of. She'd run me off my feet sending me to every radio station from the university to the biggest sports radio station in the city and then she'd booked me on every local news station. I hadn't worked as hard since training camp for the Olympics. I wasn't the only one impressed either. 

"Fabulous job," Norm extended his hand towards Beth. She looked down at it and looked honestly shocked. "You've obviously got a flair for marketing. We should talk," he added, gripping her hand once and then turning to head back down the tunnel. She stared after him and then turned her still wide eyes towards me. 

"The man has a point," I smiled at her. It felt like I was getting an `atta-boy' too. "Like I keep saying, pretty and smart," I added, tapping her shin lightly with the blade of my stick. She frowned at me but smiled. 

"Well go, finish off my work," she smirked but there was something in her eyes that told me she was proud of her success but I knew her well enough by now that the only way I was going to get that out of her was by tackling her and tickling her until she cried uncle. Maybe later, I thought as I heard the sound of the skates of the other guys start to come up the hallway. 

"Well go out somewhere nice, after this, to celebrate," I promised. She shrugged and said nothing. Nice places didn't impress her. Pulling one glove off and holding it between my elbow and my side, I reached, hooked a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and tugged her closer to me. "How `bout a kiss for luck?" She wrinkled her nose. 

"This...smell is gonna take some getting used to," she coughed and stuck her tongue out. 

"The quicker I get a kiss the faster the stink goes away," I promised. She rolled those green eyes of hers' at me, pinched her nose between her forefinger and thumb and then leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth. "Aww, c'mon, you can do better than that," I laughed as she tried to pull away.

"Not while your cheering squad is watching," she whispered and tilted her chin in the direction of a group of pucks down by the glass. I'd already spotted them, I guess outta habit, but as soon as she drew my attention to them these girls started waving and making all kinds of noise.

Well shit. I hadn't had to think about this before. I'd heard some of the guys talking about how their girlfriends had a hard time dealing with the pucks. I looked at them and then at Beth. Somehow I wasn't worried about how she was going to deal with those girls. After all, I'd seen her in action at the bar back home. 

Still....

"Sorry," I said, because I felt like I should. She shrugged and smirked. 

"If one of them tries to pull my hair I'll break her surgically perfected little nose." I laughed. It was exactly what I'd thought she'd say. 

"I'll meet you here, after the game, `kay?" I hadn't let go of her yet. She shrugged again and gave me those eyes that she did sometimes at home, when I was getting out of the shower. That look made my dick twitch behind the cup. Not a comfortable sensation. 

"That depends on how you play," she purred, a sexy half smile on her face and then she licked her lips. Daaaamn. 

"I thought this was for charity," I whined. "I was gonna go out there and fuck around, not do much of anything." This time when she shrugged she had an `oh well, your loss' look on her face. I groaned.

"That's not what the people paid to see Super Boy," she teased and then pressed another, butterfly light kiss on the corner of my mouth but this time one of her hands slid between us and she gave my cup a pat. I clenched my teeth. The woman did not play fair. 

"Alriiiight, jeeeeezuzzz," I moaned. She giggled as I let her go and turned and sashayed down the hall, swinging her hips to the beat of the blood draining down into my balls.

"Remember, play good," she called over her shoulder. I just stared. I still didn't understand what kind of spell she'd put me under but I had it bad. 

"That yours?" one of the guys in the firehouse red uniforms asked as he donned his helmet before hitting the ice. 

"Yeah," I grinned, still watching her walk away, "I don't know how or why, but yeah." 

I had checked on the t-shirt sales and walked around the concourse as the crowd began to drain into their seats, a good feeling bubbling up in my chest. I'd done this. Well...not by myself, but it felt like my accomplishment all the same and I figuratively patted myself on the back for it as I bought a bag of popcorn and followed a young woman and her son down into the seats. He was wearing a bright red plastic fireman helmet and had a little black and white stuffed Dalmatian wearing a Hawks jersey under one arm. 

Little boys and their big dreams I thought as I found my seat and opened the bag, popping a dry and, to be honest, stale kernel into my mouth. I made a face and thought about rolling the bag shut again when a big hand reached over my shoulder and grabbed a handful out. 

My panties knew who that disembodied hand belonged to before I turned to look but I had to satisfy my curiosity. Once I did, I wished I hadn't. 

The self satisfied smirk he was wearing as he chewed made me want to toss the whole bag over his head. So did the way he was wearing his baseball hat on backwards like that made him cool. The way the white waffle shirt he was wearing screamed uncle across his shoulders made me want to chew it off him with my teeth. 

"So this is what you've been trying to keep from me huh?" he asked, surveying the arena like it was his kingdom. I glared at him and turned back around. Pat was skating towards the red carpet they'd just rolled out at center ice. Someone was going to give him a microphone and he was going to give a short speech. He was worried about it. It pissed me off that Jon was there knowing he'd mock him in the room if he fucked this up. "I know everything about everything that happens around here," he whispered in my ear, reaching around me this time to dig his long, thick fingers into the popcorn. I didn't answer him. It didn't really matter now if he knew, except for this part. 

"I...uh...I just wanna thank everyone for coming to the first annual Chicago PD versus FD charity hockey tournament." The crowd hooted and hollered. I looked up at his face on the big screen and watched Pat take a deep breath. 

"You know you would have filled the place if you'd got me and a couple of the other guys involved," he whispered into my ear, interrupting. I turned and gave him my best death glare. He laughed and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. How was it, I wondered as I turned back around and tried to concentrate on what Pat was saying about his personal donation to the widows and orphans fund, that the blue eyed blonde haired All American boy was the black sheep while the dark eyed conceited bastard sitting behind me got to be the hero?

As Pat handed back the microphone and skated towards the bench to get his stick to take the opening face-off, his personal fan club erupted in high pitched screams. I glared at them too, my glare turning murderous when I heard what could only be described as a masculine giggle behind me. 

"Y'know, I've always wondered this," he chuckled, climbing over the back of and sliding down into the empty seat beside me, "do they wait outside his place and do that when he gets out of his car?" He reached for more popcorn. I shoved the bag at him and got to my feet. All of the positive feelings I'd had about this moment were gone now. 

"At least they're women. Most of your online stalkers seem to be boys," I snapped at him and then turned on my heel and started running up the stairs. I knew I couldn't out run him, not with those long, long legs of his, but I hoped that he'd leave me alone, even if I knew better. 

"Hey," he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him at the top of the aisle, "it was just a joke. I thought it would make you laugh. All the WAGs hate those girls," he grinned, that crooked, butter wouldn't melt grin that was featured in every other picture of him on Tumblr. I stared at the center of his chest instead. "He will go back to them, maybe not tonight but his ego will lead him back down the path of least resistance eventually." It was a speech that was supposed to play on my insecurities. The only way that could work the way he obviously wanted it to was if I actually cared, which I didn't.

 

"You're really use to getting whatever you want, aren't you?" I said quietly, wrenching my arm from his grasp and making a move to go around him; a move he blocked as easily as he would have deked a defenseman out on the ice. 

"I think you have me confused with your boy Buzz down there," he growled at me, his hand closing around my upper arm. It didn't hurt. In fact his whole big possessive guy routine was making my panties melt slowly like a candle. "I've had to work for everything I have. I'm not saying I don't get what I want," he added, giving me one of those long, up and down glances, "eventually." I groaned and rolled my eyes because that's what I felt like I should do, it's what a loyal friend would do and what a girlfriend ought to do even if what I really wanted to do was dig my hands into his shirt and pull that smirk down and kiss it off his face.

"You really think you're something don't you?" I smirked at him and for the second time tried to wrench my arm free. This time I failed, miserably. 

"I'm more interested with what you think," he purred, leaning close, his dark eyes daring me to lie.  I stared at him, concentrating on his eyes, which, unlike the rest of him were short enough of perfect that I could overrule my libido long enough to tell him a certain kind of truth. 

"I think you should get down of that pedestal everyone around her has you on and ask yourself if you're the kind of man any woman would want." The smug smile on his face faded and his eyes darkened. My pulse leapt. Christ on a pogo stick the man was even sexier pissed off. 

"He's a conceited self centered little asshole. You don't want to be with a guy like that," he hissed at me, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of my upper arm. I winced. 

"I don't want to be with a guy that would try and muscle in on his best friend's girl," I replied very slowly. If I'd said it any faster I probably wouldn't have got it out at all. At the very least it would have gotten all breathy and sounded insincere. As it was, my blood was coursing through my veins so quickly I thought he must be able to hear it, must be able to see my heart beating in my chest. 

 

"Best friend?" he sneered. "Is that what you think we are?" I took a deep breath in, kept my gaze level with his and smiled. 

"It's what all these people think you are and I'm guessing that's exactly how the team wants it," I reminded him as calmly as I could. His mouth twitched. His nostrils flared and his fingers dug deep into my arm. "How am I going to explain those marks to Pat later?" I hissed at him. I thought it would make him let me go. It didn't. He pulled me closer so that his cheek brushed along side of mine and his lips brushed the outside of my ear. 

"I want to put all kinds of marks on you." My body convulsed. It wasn't a shudder, a shiver or a tremble. It felt like I'd had those pedals they put on you to revive you. I could almost hear someone saying `charge to 300'. I closed my eyes. I could picture him closing his teeth around the ivory white skin of my breast and lower. I gasped. 

I didn't even realize he'd let me go until a woman, a complete fucking stranger put her hand on me and peered at me like I'd just escaped a loony bin.  

"Are you okay?" she asked. I blinked at her, bringing her into focus before glancing around me at the crowd now streaming into their seats. 

 

"Yeah..., yeah just...dizzy I think," I smiled at her and she smiled back, probably glad I hadn't started muttering to myself or pulled a knife. "Thanks," I said again as I focused on his back, the mile wide width of his back as he disappeared into the crowd. "I'll be fine now," I promised, sucking in a long breath and turning to head back to my seat; alone. 

 

He was signing autographs and joking around with the guys like he was a good guy, like he didn't beat up cab drivers and get sauced and try and fuck their daughters the first chance he got. At least I could see that he'd made good on his promise to come to training camp in good shape s he sat there with his shirt off, the beginnings of a six pack showing. 

"Hey man, when did you get here?" he asked, grinning up at me like I was puck teetering on high heels with her boobs trying to escape her too tight top, like he was actually glad to see me. I shrugged. 

 

"Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about," I replied with as big a shit eating grin I could manage, putting on a show. 

"Wow, Toews right? Can I have your autograph?" Some guy with his two front teeth missing shoved his sweat soaked jersey at me. I nodded and smiled and pressed the jersey up against his back to sign down his number. 

"How come you didn't play?" he asked me. 

"Because he sucks," Pat laughed before I got a chance to answer. 

"Well, technically Kaner's still on injured reserve," I corrected him and caught myself beginning to narrow my eyes at him. I put my happy go lucky mask back on and handed the guy his pen back."During the season we're obligated...some rule about no pick-up games, y'know, insurance or whatever," I added, doing my best to sound like a dumb jock just following the rules. I understood the rules and lived them to the letter. It was my teammate sitting there with a handful of hockey cards in one hand and a jiffy marker in the other that insisted on colouring outside the lines all of the time. Want some help with those Buzz?" I asked, grabbing a handful of cards and reaching for one of the sharpies on the bench. 

"Great, thanks man," he grinned and punched my shoulder hard enough I wanted to wince but I didn't. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. It would be like letting your little brother know he could beat you at something. It was much better to suck it up and deal with the pain. "You shoulda played, it was a gas," he added, handing one of the guys' kids a card. The kid looked at him with huge, wide eyes; like he was someone amazing. I wanted to tell the kid's dad that there were way better role models in the room than either one of us but I kept my mouth shut and smiled. 

"Well I hope you're gonna play better than that when the season starts." It was mean. It was meant to be and he laughed it off just like I knew he would. 

"I'll show you up," he replied smugly. I nodded like that was the answer I was looking for. I signed a few more autographs, letting him relax before I went for the jugular. 

"So you think that girl...what's her name? Do you think that's a good idea, the distraction? I mean, isn't that the kind of thing that gets you in all the trouble?" I kept my head down. I could feel him frowning at me. He hated this, when I got all big brother knows best on him. 

"Fuck, jealous much?" I fucked up my signature, ending up writing most of it on my leg. I hadn't expected him to cut so close to the mark. He's not usually that astute. 

"Just worried about you man, that's all." It was partly true but I couldn't look the guy in the face and say it.

"Yeah well..., maybe it's good, y'know, just one chick. Who'd have guessed y'know?" I had to give him that and nodding, I handed him the rest of the stack. 

"Yeah but...how long's that gonna last?" I smiled down at him as I got to my feet and he grinned right back up at me. 

"Yeah well...I guess we'll see huh? Wanna put some money on it?" I was opening my mouth to agree, because, well, I'd already put a bet on that in my head but the room got suddenly quiet around us and then Pat's grin faded at the edges. 

"I'll take that bet." I knew the voice instantly. I didn't need the colour fade out of his cheeks to know she'd just walked into the room. I didn't look back. I kept my gaze focused on Pat's even as his rose to meet hers, his mouth twitching. He didn't know what to do. 

"Are you sure you wanna do that?" I asked her, not him but anyone else in the room, including Kaner could be forgiven for thinking I was talking to him as my gaze remained on him. 

"I'm nothing if not loyal," she said quietly but firmly and then she walked right by me and put herself on his lap, her arms twined around his neck but her eyes...those fucking jade orbs of hers' were all for me. "Got a fifty on ya baby?" she purred, letting one of those hands run down his bare chest. I felt my pulse double.

"In my jeans probably yeah," he laughed, the fucking moron actually laughed. Of course his hand was on her ass so I guess he had at least one reason to smile. 

"Why don't you give me that fifty and I'll take one from Mr. Know it All here and I'll hold onto those and let's just see which one of you gives in first hmm?" she purred like a big contented cat and, while she stared right at me, planted a playful kiss on his sweaty cheek. I ground my teeth together. I was hating him right at that moment and her too...just a little. 

"Wait...what does he have to do?" Kaner asked, predictably. 

"Oh he has to do something muuuuch, much harder baby," she smiled up at me as she held her hand out towards me. "He has to be celibate for as long as you're faithful to me." Our gazes met and I knew she knew she was wounding me. Kitty cat can scratch and bite. 

"Oh fuck, well you may as well give him the pot right now. I've roomed with the fucker, he hardly ever even wacks off in the shower," Kaner sighed and tipped her off his lap. 

"Is that right?" she looked up at me from beneath her eyelashes and smiled. "That's too bad," she added softly, a poisonous smile tugging at the corners of her full lips, "maybe he's just never had anything to wack off to," and as she took the fifty from my hand she went up on tip toe and whispered in my ear, "like thinking about all the places you want to mark me and knowing he's doing it instead."

I nearly lost my balance as all the blood in my body rushed suddenly south. Ninety minutes ago she'd glared at me. Now she was baiting me. My head was swimming. 

I practically ran after her into the corridor where the cops and firefighters kids, wives, girlfriends and families were milling around, not to mention a few members of the press. Normally that would have been enough to make me think twice, but not at that moment. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I grabbed her wrist and swung her around to face me. She stared defiantly up at me but her eyes were glistening with tears I could tell she was doing her damndest not to let fall. 

"You think that just because I'm some uneducated beer wench from Buffalo that you can just crook your finger and I'll come running...," she began and then shook her head and clamped her mouth shut. 

"No," I hissed menacingly at her, "actually I was kind of picturing you crawling." Her eyes got wide and I knew, like I'd always had a feeling with her, that was exactly what she wanted. It was why she didn't really mind my clamping down on her wrist like this, or why her breathing hitched as I pressed her up against the concrete wall. 

"You want to play games?" she whispered at me, defiance still in her gaze even as it focused on my mouth like she wanted it on her, wanted me to do things with it to her. 

"Yesss, you have no idea," I replied, blowing out a breath I felt like I'd been holding since the moment I'd set eyes on her. 

"I will come to you, I'll do whatever you want me to if...," she pressed the palm of her free hand on my sternum. It felt like it left a brand in the shape of her hand. "If he cheats on me but you can't encourage him. You can't put those...sluts in his way. You can't encourage him. You can't...you can't give him ideas. In fact," she added as if it had just occurred to her to prick my skin with pins and pour molten hot wax into the wound, "you have to be his friend. You have to help him to be better. Do you hear me?" Her gaze had warmed, gone as molten as the wax I imagined her now pouring over my skin. I shook my head.

"Why? Why can't you just come with me now?" I asked, breathless with the need to have her, here, up against this wall, now, in front of everyone. 

"Because I owe him that much and so do you," she whispered. If I thought her dare, her wicked little plan had been designed to taunt me, it was nothing compared to being made his keeper.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist into the wall right beside her head. She shut her eyes but barely flinched.

"No one gives him a chance. I sure as hell didn't and from what I've seen you work pretty fucking hard at undermining him every chance you get. He's been good to me. I will not throw that back in his face. Not just for something...," her eyes opened and for a long moment she stared straight ahead and then, slowly, she raised her gaze to meet mine and I knew...I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. "Not for something that will just burn up in no time." I clenched my teeth together and fought the overwhelming urge to take her mouth, to force her to kiss me. 

"He will fail...with or without anyone's help," I promised her. She shrugged one shoulder and the corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile that I felt right down to my nuts. 

"Then you can have me, however you want me," she whispered and for one, fleeting moment I could see the promise of release in her gaze and then she ducked under my arm and fled like a fox pursued by a pack of dogs, ducking in and out of the crowd until she disappeared from view. 

I leaned my head against the cool concrete wall and cursed under my breath but that couldn't cool my jets; nor did grabbing a stick from the wrack and breaking it over my knee. The only thing that was going to quench this fire was her, beneath me, begging me for more. 

Chapter 9

I'm on a dark kick...I think I'm still angry with my boys or something

"Fuck." 

I looked up from reading about the latest machinations of the Tea Party and watched Pat rip the sports pages into several, small pieces which he then tossed onto the floor like a toddler throwing a fit.

"Problem?" I asked, picking an errant piece of the paper out of my eggs. 

"They always say the same things about me. They're always picking on me," he whined and then kicked the leg of the table, as if it too had done something to him. 

"Then why do you read that stuff?" I asked and went back to reading actual news instead of conjecture about a season that hadn't even started yet. 

"I dunno," he grumbled sullenly and started to poke at his breakfast like he was trying to kill it too. Sighing, I folded the part of the newspaper that I'd been reading, sat back in my chair and watched him squirm. 

"You know damn well why you read that stuff," I urged him. He glared at me with icy blue eyes and shook his head. I narrowed my eyes at him and felt like I was about to have an argument with a five year old over eating his spinach. "You're looking for them to say good things but from what you tell me you know damn well you're the whipping boy so guess what? They're not gonna say anything positive until you do something positive for them to talk about." 

"Oh yeah, like Captain Wonder Pants!" he sulked. I rolled my eyes at the name but inside something stirred in the vicinity of my panties at the mere mention of the Captain of the Hawks. 

"Why don't you...get involved in some kind of charity?" I offered. Pat made a noise deep in his throat that sounded partly like disgust and partly like resignation. 

"I do stuff with the firemen and the troops all the time," he grumbled. I uncrossed my arms and pushed my chair back. Gathering the dishes, I took my time taking them to the sink while I thought about how I was going to say what was on my mind. 

"I know you do things," I agreed quietly. He'd taken me along on one such outing, a fund raiser for two widows of local firefighters back in Buffalo whose lives had been taken in a warehouse fire. "But you don't do them publicly," I pointed out quietly. I heard the sound of disgust he made and smiled. All the things I'd read about him online pointed to his being a selfish spoiled rich kid who spent more money on beer than anything else. That wasn't the kid his parents had raised him to be, but few people saw that Patrick. "I know that's not the point," I agreed as I rinsed the plates and stacked them, one by one, into the dishwasher, "but if you want some good press...." I held up my hand to stop the protest I could hear in my head before he said it out loud. "I know that's not the point but for you...right now, I think it would be...helpful." His father took pride in Pat not calling attention to the work he did with charities back home but this was Chicago and here, his blue eyed boy was a black sheep. 

"Okay, like what?" he grumbled. I smiled and closed the dishwasher. 

 

"There's firefighters here right? Cops play firefighters in beer league...maybe you could do something with that?" I suggested, thinking about some of the tournaments I'd been to back home. Pat looked thoughtful and then smiled at me. 

"Yeah, I guess I should call our press guy," he added thoughtfully, grabbing his phone off of the counter. 

"Tell him not to invite any of the other guys," I called after him as he got to his feet and headed towards the living room. The request was as much for his sake as it was for mine, but I still felt guilty as I took the dish cloth and wiped down the table. 

There had been something about the way that Captain Shoulders had touched me that had made sleep virtually impossible for days. I felt like a silly grade school girl with a crush on the quarterback of the varsity team. All I had to do was close my eyes and my skin still tingled at the memory of his touch and that felt disloyal, not to mention ungrateful. 

"You know you're pretty and smart?" I rolled my eyes but smiled at the touch of Pat's hand on the small of my back. He was still on his phone, obviously on hold by the sound of the ridiculous music coming from the vicinity of his ear. I stuck my tongue out at him but as I tried to head back to the sink he pulled me into his side. "I'll have to go in to the offices. Go put on one of those pretty new outfits and come with me." 

It wasn't a request, but it was an order given with a boyish grin that was infectious, so I ignored a lack of the magic word and nodded. I also ignored the slap on my ass as I headed away from him. I just shook my head when he laughed and flipped him the bird over my shoulder.

"I'm happy you want to get involved in something like this." Norm twirled his pen in his fingers as he rocked his big leather chair back. He didn't look happy. In fact he looked like I'd walked into his office with dog shit on my shoe and besides that he was spending way too much time looking at Beth. 

"I do stuff like this at home," I told him, just as Beth had suggested. "I just thought there might be some groups I could get involved with here."  She squeezed my hand encouragingly and I forced a smile on my face. This meeting could have been worse, I knew. If it had been Stan Bowman he would have straight up called me on my shit by now but Norm was trying his best to figure out my angle. 

"And you don't want to get the rest of the guys involved?" It wasn't the first time he'd asked me this since we'd got to his office and I was starting to squirm. I understood why she'd suggested it, to make sure someone else like Captain Yawn doesn't take credit for it, but I knew that Norm knew that I'd never come up with some shit like that on my own. 

"Like I said, I...uh, work with some of these charities at home so...it doesn't have to be a big thing, I just had some ideas." I could feel Beth staring at me so hard that it felt like she was actually drilling a hole in the side of my head. This was where I was supposed to bring up the idea of a game, cops and firefighters, army versus navy, to raise money for widows and orphans. I just kept thinking that it would be more fun if some of the other guys got involved. 

"We usually have you two working these things together." I knew this was going to come. Tazer and me, we're like the Men in Black, we're always together in all these commercials like we're best friends which isn't exactly the truth. We've roomed together on the road and I guess I get him but I wouldn't say we're buddies.

"Yeah I know but...like I said, I do this at home so...." It was my only argument. I didn't have any other to use, not without actually saying I didn't want Tazer stealing my thunder. That wasn't going to get me any brownie points and I badly needed those. 

"Well...we'll see what we can put together," Norm shrugged and suddenly looked bored, like a cat does when the mouse no longer squeaks and squeals. 

"Actually...," both of us turn and look at Beth, equal expressions of surprise on both of our faces, "I thought maybe I could help with that, or the WAGs could," she adds swiftly as Norm frowns at her. "The uh...ladies are putting together a few other events, so I thought I could add this to the schedule." Norm raises a single eyebrow at her and she visibly tenses. I wasn't ready for this or I'd have come to her defence but I'm as curious as he is where she's going with this. "I'd like to help," she ends quietly, twisting her hands together in her lap. 

Norm looks over at me, still wearing a quizzical expression and for a moment I wonder if he's more shocked at her or at me for being with someone like her. I'm willing to bet it's the latter. 

"Well...yes, certainly the organization is always happy to have an extra set of hands in cases like these," he smiles at her but still looks...curious. "If you'd like to stay behind Miss...Miss...?" 

"Just Beth," she said quietly and smiled at him in that professional sort of `I'm here because I have to be' kind of way that reminded me of Tazer at a press conference. 

"Well, Beth," Norm enunciated her name like he was adding it to his mental address book and made a notation on the big calendar on his desk, "let's see what you and I can put together. You're checking in with the medical staff right Pat?" It was like being dismissed from the table when the adults didn't want you around anymore. I stared at him, half surprised and then got up to go but at the last minute, I turned back and reached to tip her lips up to mine. 

"Thanks babe," I told her sincerely. It was strange having someone actually have my back for a change and I realized that I was grateful. She smiled up at me and reached up and patted my hand where it rested on her cheek. "I'll see you downstairs okay?" She nodded and then turned her attention to the man in the suit across the desk, like she was dismissing me too. I stared at the pair of them, and then shrugged. I wasn't really into the meeting thing anyway. 

"Our goal this year is the same as it is every year," I replied trying not to sound as irritated with the idiotic question the reporter in front of me had just posed, "to win the Cup," I added trying to force myself to smile when I said it. I wanted to say that I didn't want to suck like last year and that I wanted a better effort out of most of the guys but that was something that was best said in the room, not in public.

"Are you looking forward to the season? How does the team look?" I breathed out through my nose and counted, silently, to ten while I ground my teeth together. It was the same questions from the same guys every fucking week and they had the stones to say that sometimes I sounded like a robot when I answered their stupid fucking questions. 

"I can't wait to play," I answered truthfully. Practice was all well and good, necessary even, but it wasn't the same as getting out in front of the crowd of the Madhouse and hearing them cheer and scream my name. "We've got a great group of guys. We're all looking forward to getting going," I added knowing that happened to be more true of some guys than others. 

"What will the lines look like and how long will Kane be out?" I was careful to keep my expression blank as I answered the question. The way Pat had played the last part of the season, injured or not, I didn't much care when he played again. 

"I don't think any of the lines have been solidified. I mean, we have so much talent on this team it's a privilege to play with any of these guys. As far as Kaner goes, I guess you'll have to ask him," I added with what I hoped was a meaningful glance down the hallway, as if Pat could be coming out of the room any minute. He wasn't, of course, but there was something else that caught my eye down the dim concrete corridor. "That's it guy," I dismissed the reporters with my usual `golly gee shucks' grin that made them all smile back at me and leave feeling like they had something. 

I turned my back and waited for them to go, adding my gloves to the collection on the dryer, all the while keeping an eye on the woman that looked like she'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine, in a skirt that was short enough to be almost indecent, boots high enough that they hugged her knees and a mock neck sweater that was the perfect Kelly green to set off her copper waves. She was tapping one foot impatiently on the floor and keeping an eye on her watch as I ambled slowly down the hall, waiting for her to notice me.

Was it my imagination or did her eyes get big as she looked up at me?

"Pat's not here," I told her. Did she look surprised or maybe flustered? She was flushed. The colour looked beautiful in her cheeks. 

"He is," she told me emphatically, hooking her thumb over her shoulder towards the door. I looked up at the name plate. It was the office the assistant coaches shared. I tried but knew that I failed to keep a sneer off my face. 

"What'd he do this time?" She wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at me. 

"Do?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Had I been staring at the way her sweater pulled across her chest? 

"Y'know, mug a cabbie, fall over drunk...you're not pregnant are you?" The first two were facts that normally were skirted around but I wasn't sure she knew and I was just petulant enough to bring up. The latter...well that was for my own information. She gaped at me, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. I'd gone too far and I knew it. I needed to back pedal and fast. "I'm just sayin', he gets himself into these scrapes...it was a joke," I added necessarily as she frowned at me, her gaze making it clear she thought I was being the worst kind of friend. 

"We were organizing a...a thing," she muttered and glanced down the hall like she was expecting someone or maybe she just wanted to be rescued from me. Did I make her that nervous or was she actually angry? I hoped it was the former and not the latter. 

"A thing?" I prodded, leaning on my stick and lowering my voice, trying to sound interested and not like I was prying. In those heels I bet she was as tall as Pat but with my skates on she only came up to the middle of my chest. I could have easily rested my arms on the top of her head. I liked that she had to look up at me. I would have liked it better had she been looking up at me from her knees. 

"A fund raiser kind of...thing," she explained, her eyes darting to the empty hall behind me and then up at me with the kind of wariness that tells me she's definitely smarter than the average puck, too smart for Pat. 

"With the Wags or...?" I prompted her, going for genuine curiosity. She pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged with one shoulder. There was something she didn't want to tell me. I thought about pressing her, I kind of wanted to just to see how far I could, but I had an inkling she'd only get more and more defensive and I knew if I couldn't get it out of her I could always get it out of Pat. Failing that there was always the new receptionist in the GM's office with the long dark wavy hair. 

I couldn't breathe. 

He was trying to intimidate me one moment and being mocking and arrogant the next and he wasn't so much looking at me as into me as if he was trying to see the thoughts in my head. He smelled of sweat and mildew and I wanted to roll in him like a dog on a dead fish.  

 

"Ready to go?" I almost fell backwards as Pat tugged the door open behind me. I stared at him like I hadn't seen him before. He looked so `normal' compared to the enormous sweaty man who was still leaning on his stick and now looking bemused as I grabbed onto Patrick like I'd been thrown a life preserver. 

 

"So, you're doing a thing...without me?" Jon asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow Pat's direction, the corners of his lips almost turning up in a smile. He reminded me of a big tomcat toying with a mouse before he killed it. 

 

"That's not a problem, is it?" Pat asked, looking and sounding defensive. I rubbed his arm gently, doing my best to be reassuring. 

"No, I just thought we were the two amigos, y'know, we do everything together." Jon had a happy go lucky all American boy smile, with dimples and everything, but I could feel it disingenuous. His gaze slid to mine and there was something dark and brooding in it that made my flesh crawl like I'd touched a live battery. He wanted Pat to feel bad about keeping our plans from him but he wanted me to know he knew I was behind it. 

 

"Uh huh," Pat frowned and then turned, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him down the empty hallway. I smirked at the back of his Goldilocks curl covered head, amused and a little surprised by his clipped non reply. I thought I was the only one with an issue with Captain Hot Stuff. 

 

"What's up with you two?" I asked as we burst out into the late summer sunshine. I hoped my question sounded innocent and naive. Pat grumbled under his breath as he dug in his pockets for his keys. 

 

"How d'ya think it feels to know your always gonna be the smaller, not as good, cheaper version of that?" he snapped and then sent an apologetic look my direction and shrugged. "He gets on my nerves sometimes." I nodded and gave him an encouraging and I hoped sympathetic smile while every word he said lined up with every thought I'd had myself. "Wanna get somethin' to eat?" he asked unlocking the Hummer and climbing in his side. 

 

"Yeah...let's get out of here," I agreed, the angel on my right telling me that I should be loyal while the devil on my left looked longingly back towards the arena. 

 

Chapter 8

“Here.” I looked at the proffered card and then up into his blue eyes. 

“What’s that?” I asked, reaching for my glass of orange juice instead. Pat put the piece of plastic down on the table and pushed it towards me. 

“It’s a credit card. There’s like...five g’s on it. Get yourself whatever you need. But it’s not for stuff like groceries, okay?” I looked down at the American Express card and then up at him and waited. It felt like there had to be a catch but as I waited for him to add the addendum, he attacked his wholewheat toast with a butter knife, smearing jam and peanut butter all over it and said nothing more. Turning my attention back to the credit card, I pulled it the rest of the way towards myself and noted that my name was on it. 

“Does Penny know about this?” I asked, thinking about the credit card commercial I’d seen him in while I’d been up late eating Bugles and watching re-runs of Saturday Night Live. I’d known if I’d gone to bed I’d only lie awake trying my best not to think. Pat smirked and reached for another piece of toast. “Thanks,” I said quietly, taking the card and slipping it into the front pocket of my jeans. I felt guilty taking it, despite the fact that it had become more than evident that the other WAGs had no problems spending their significant other’s wages.

“Whatever, if it gets me out of the doghouse with the...,” he bit his bottom lip, effectively muting himself and grinned. “Anyways, I love the motorcycle boots but uh...maybe you should get some of those heels all the girls have.” I raised a single eyebrow at him and he shrugged. “Okay, I like them too, but...y’know there’s no need to go around being taller than me.” It was times like this when it was hard not to find the boy sitting across the table from me as adorable as I knew he was trying to be.

“Maybe I’ll ask that girl Julia...I think she’s Bolland’s girlfriend...?” 

“Fiancée,” he corrected me, making a face like being engaged was something perverse, or worse, a communicable disease that caused irreversible facial scarring.

“Yeah well, I must have missed the bling,” I shrugged to make him feel better. It seemed to have the desired effect. He perked up immediately. “You’ve got another one of those practices today right?” He nodded, chewing on a piece of toast and reaching for another. “Unless you want to come with me?” I asked, because I thought I should. He stared at me over the piece of toast he was smothering with butter. 

“You mean do the whole Pretty Woman shit? Sitting around stupid girl shops and helping you pick out shit and waiting for you to try it on? Um, no thanks,” he replied, wrinkling his nose, shuddering dramatically and then shoving at least half of the piece of toast into this mouth. 

“Okay if you put it that way, you’re totally not invited,” I laughed, picking up my mug of coffee and savoring its rich, dark aroma. I watched him through the steam, the way the morning light slanting through the windows of his high rise townhouse caught the hint of golden whiskers on his otherwise baby soft cheeks. He was a man and a boy in one package, but more a boy than a man still and I told myself that was why my skin didn’t feel like electric current was running over it when he touched me and why my heart didn’t skip a beat when he looked up at me like he was doing now.

“What?” he asked and I shook my head. 

“Just wondering if I was going to have perform the Heimlich,” I lied. He popped the rest of the piece of toast in his mouth and then brushed the crumbs down the sides of jeans. I rolled my eyes. 

“Call me if you need more. I can always call Peggy and give her a few more tips,” he said, standing and miming holding a hockey stick with both hands. “Y’know, a little shimmy this way, a little shimmy that way....” His antics made me grin, which I supposed was meant to be the point. 

“I’m sure it will be more than enough unless you’ve also hired those guys from What Not to Wear,” I replied as I reached for his plate and stacked it on mine. “Wait...you haven’t, have you?” I asked, peering over my shoulder with mock horror. 

“No way,” he laughed, suddenly wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. “I like you fine the way you are,” he added in a gruff tone as his blue eyes grazed my skin where it disappeared into the artfully ripped t-shirt. He made a sound deep in his throat and grazed my neck with his teeth before planting wet and sloppy kisses down to my collarbone. I giggled and fought to maintain my balance and not drop the plates. 

“You’d like it if I was naked all the time,” I squirmed. He looked up at me with a playful grin and waggled his eyebrows at me. 

“Yeah, give me that card back,” he growled and then made crazy eyes and opened his mouth wide as if fangs should suddenly descend from his gums. I shrieked in feigned horror and pretended to faint as he growled again before biting into my neck. 

__________________________________________________________________________

“You gonna break a sweat on that thing or what?” I flipped Seabs the bird, put my head down, got my ass off the seat and pedelled harder. The last thing I needed was for it getting back to Coach Q that I wasn’t giving my off-ice work out a hundred and ten. 

“How’s the arm?” I looked over and find Tazer climbing on the stationary bike beside me.

“Fine,” I replied, doubling my pace. He smiled in that way he does when he thinks he’s so awesome. It makes me clench my teeth.

“Good,” he said, that smile growing as he started to peddle. I cursed under my breath. I knew what he was going to do, or what he was going to try and do. I leaned forward and focused on a spot on the wall and willed my legs to move faster. I could hear the gears spinning as he pumped the pedals. I could even hear his bike creak as he leaned into the handlebars. The fuckin’ guy is always trying to prove he’s better than me.

“You can’t fucking do it,” I breathed. He looked over at me and a slow, menacing grin spread across his face. 

“Oh I think I can.” 

“My money’s on Tazer!” I glared at Seabs. He’s always sucking up to Captain Self Importance. 

“Nah, Kaner hasn’t just done ten minutes of wind sprints,” Rat held up a twenty. Seabs grabbed it.

“Tazer’s been doing wind sprints three times a day all summer. He’s totally got this.” With a growl I leaned forward and peddled like I’m being chased by a hungry fucking Grizzly. 

“You’re going down,” I heard Jon say smugly. 

“You mean you are,” I snarled back. He laughed. I fantasized ten different ways to kill him with my bare hands, if I could just figure out a way to avoid that he’s got at least a three inch reach on me. 

For about ten minutes the only sound in the room wasthe gears and the chains on the bikes. After that I could hear my own heart beating in my ears. After twenty minutes I was breathing heavily. He, however, was not.

I fucking hate this guy. 

“Your girlfriend’s kinda cute,” he said, right out of the blue. I glanced over at him. I knew he was just doing it to distract me. I ignored him, turning my attention back to the hole in the wall that he kicked the last time he got injured. “She’s too good for you,” he added. Oh joy, that old gambit. 

“You say that about every girl I go out with,” I snarled. 

“You don’t go out with girls,” Seabs pointed out. I growled at him too. 

“Any living breathing female would be too good for me as far as you’re concerned,” I hissed. Tazer grinned, bearing his teeth at me like a Pit Bull. 

“You might have a point,” he smirked. Rolling my eyes I looked away and beared down.”When you text'd me about her I thought maybe she was the blow up variety,” he added for good measure. I ground my teeth together. I would flipped him the bird but I was kind of afraid if I took my hands off the handle bars I'd fall down dead. “So are you paying her to stay with you or is she really your house keeper?” 

“Jeezus, jealous much?” I coughed. Sweat was now pouring down my face but when I looked over, he was just starting to get red in the face. 

“Jealous of what?” he snorted. “If I wanted her all I’d have to do is...no wait, you crooked your finger at he and if memory serves that didn’t really go down so well.” 

“Burrrrrn!” I reached for my water bottle and threw it at Bolland, who caught it one handed out of mid air. Guy should be a goalie; he’s got the reflexes of a fucking cat.  

“So seriously, how long do you think before she catches you cheating on her?” Jon asked and that was it. I stopped pumping the pedals and got off the bike, grabbed my towel and headed for the showers. “Aww c’mon Kaner, don’t be such a fucking baby!” I flipped him the bird over my shoulder and kept walking. 

____________________________________________________________________

“Jesus, I’m pretty sure I’ve never spent that much money in one day. You should be a personal shopper or something,” I tetoldll Julia. She raised her glass towards me. 

“Shopping is not just a hobby, it’s a sport,” she replied emphatically. I looked down at the bags that are like colourful delicate Japanese lanterns around our feet and grin. I usually hate shopping but Julia made it fun. “Pat’s gonna love that uh...what did you call that thing?” 

“Merry widow,” I remind her, “and I honestly don’t think he’ll notice if I wear something like that or not.”

“Oh yeah, that’s why you’ve got that giant hickey on your neck.” My hand flew up to my neck and I felt my face get hot. Not that I didn’t know it was there. Every time I’d been in a dressing room the huge, livid red bite mark had been staring back at me, as obvious as a freshman at her first frat party. 

“He was pretending to be Edward,” I smirked. She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, let me guess team Jacob?” 

“Well let’s just say I like a well defined six pack, not a drawn on one,” she replied with playful raise of her eyebrow, “and you know who has the nicest washboard on the team, right?” I frowned. Was she talking about Pat? “Captain Delicious,” she purred and then sipped innocently on the curly straw in her mai tai.

“Jon?” I had the sudden urge to fan myself. I’d spent a little late night time on Tumblr. The captain of the Hawks could be a Calvin Klein underwear model. “He’s kind of...intense, don’t you think?” She looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. 

“He’s all business,” she sighed, putting her drink down and reaching for her fork, stabbing it into the chop salad in front of her. “It’s like...once hockey season starts there is nothing else in his life. Borrrrrring,” she added with a dramatic eye roll. 

“You mean...during the summer he’s fun?” I asked, thinking about how he could look so serious in one photo and in the next an impish, adorably crooked smile would transform his entire face. 

“Fuck yeah,” she smiled and then sat back and looked thoughtful. “You should have seen him in the Bahamas this summer, drunk and doing the limbo...I don’t think I’ve seen Dave laugh that much in...well a long time,” she added. I tried to picture it. I couldn’t. Or maybe it was that I couldn’t get past the thought of him on a white beach in nothing but swim shorts. 

“Pat wasn’t there?” I asked. I knew the answer because I’d spent nearly the entire summer with him but I wondered why, when all the guys seemed so close, he hadn’t been invited. 

“The wrist surgery,” she shrugged, looking apologetic. “I think he was a little bummed about not being able to swim and scuba and stuff.” 

“So, what do you guys do during the season for fun?” I asked, changing the subject. 

“Well this, for a start,” she replied lifting her glass again. I laughed. “Shop, go to the spa. I mean we do those fund raising projects but...I guess until we have kids, we do this,” she continued with a grin. I knew she and for that matter, the rest of the WAGs didn’t have jobs. When I’d mentioned looking for a job she’d immediately made a face and asked why. 

“With the guys though...I mean...does everyone hang out like they did at Pat’s the other night?” I asked, wondering if I’d be spending the fall making hors d’oeuvres for house parties every weekend.

“During the season?” she looked at me as if I’d just said something truly blasphemous, out loud and on purpose and then her expression softened into that ‘of course, she’s slow’ look. “No...during the season the only time you’re going to see him is when he comes home for a nap after practice and when he comes home all dejected puppy dog after a loss. The rest of the time, we’re on our own.” I blinked at her like she was speaking another language, one we didn’t share. Pat had faults, plenty of them, but he’d been more attentive than...well than any many I’d ever met in my whole life. I couldn’t really imagine him disappearing, even though, admittedly, sometimes I wanted him to. “That’s right,” she added as if she could read the thoughts flying around in my overloaded brain, “welcome to glorious and fucking lonely life of a WAG sister. It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” 

___________________________________________________________________

I checked the time on my phone. I was late and I knew Gabrielle was going to be pissed if she hadn’t already assumed she’d been stood up and left already. 

The patio at the restaurant was full of midday shoppers enjoying the late summer sun, sipping on colourful drinks wearing their Ray bans, shorts and light summer dresses. I could pick out Gabrielle’s frosted weave from half a block away. Her long fingernails were drumming the tabletop while she swung one perfectly tanned leg impatiently. I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t have time for this shit. I didn’t like her enough to have to put up with being berated for making her wait. 

I was about to turn around and head back the way I’d come when the glint of copper caught the afternoon sun and shone like a pond in an oasis on the other side of a desert. I stopped and stared.

I’d teased Bolland that he had no right to a girlfriend as pretty as Julia but I meant it when I said it to Kaner. Seeing her sitting in the sun in a black tank top with her hair like a flame licking her bare shoulders I hated him for being able to touch her, to hold her in his arms and taste her lips. 

As if she sensed me she looked up and I wished I could see the expression in her eyes behind the aviator sun glasses she was wearing. Did she want me to join them? Did she want me to leave? I should leave, I knew that, but my feet were moving forward already.

“Julia,” I greeted Dave’s fiancée with a soft kiss to her temple and then moved to her side of the small table. “Beth.” Her name tasted like vanilla frosting on my tongue, almost too sweet to enjoy. The palm of my hand came to rest on her bare shoulder. It was warm and soft. My hand lingered there too long, long enough that she looked up at me and I didn’t need to see behind those mirrored lenses to know that she was wondering what I was going to do next. I was afraid to brush a soft kiss on her cheek the way I’d done to Julia, afraid if I did I’d go for her mouth and kiss her the way I’d imagined kissing her, hard enough to force her pink lips to part so I could taste her breath, sweep my tongue over hers’. 

Instead of kissing her I slid my hand up to her cheek intending to just brush my knuckles along her high, sharp cheekbone but my body refused to listen to the signals my brain was trying to send it. My thumb caressed the line of her jaw as if it was made of the softest velvet as my gaze lingered too long on her mouth, as I thought of other things I wanted to do to and with that mouth. 

“Jon,” she breathed my name like I was touching her elsewhere, somewhere lower, more...private. For a moment I held my breath as she looked up at me, her lips remained parted like an invitation that I wanted to r.s.v.p. for immediately. 

“Jonny!” I shut my eyes. I knew that voice and it was the last thing I wanted to hear in that moment. I wanted to hear Beth whisper my name again. No, that’s not right. I wanted her to moan my name and then I wanted her to cry it out loud, loud enough for the whole street to hear. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized and then turned to intercept Gabrielle before she could throw her arms around me. With reflexes honed by a life spent watching a small, hard object hurtle towards me at supersonic speeds, I reached out and locked my hand around her tiny wrist. “We’re just...leaving,” I said to Beth and to Gabrielle both at once. Gabrielle looked shocked as I dragged her behind me away from the two women sitting at the table. 

When I looked back over my shoulder Julie looked confused but it was the expression on Beth’s face that I felt all the way down to my balls. Her hand was pressed to her cheek where my hand had just been and she was watching me leave. 

Christ we both felt it. It wasn’t just me. 

“Jonny?” Gabrielle pulled back against me hard enough to make me slow down as we headed up the block. I forced myself to look at her. She looked like a cheap knock off imitation and as I stared down at her I wondered how I’d ever been able to look at her any other way. 

“This was a mistake,” I told her. She blinked up at me, startled still but panicked now. I watched as the meaning of my words sunk in. I wasn’t just talking about right now and she knew it. 

“Oh...okay,” she said breathlessly. Tears were welling up in her eyes. I’d done that. She’d be tweeting to all of her friends that I was an asshole in a matter of minutes and for once I didn’t care. “I...I wasn’t pressing for anything Jonny.” I hated the way she said my name. I might have been wearing shorts but they weren’t short pants. 

“I don’t have time,” I told her gruffly. It was true. At least I wasn’t lying. She looked back down the street to where Julia and Beth were still sitting on the patio of the restaurant and then she looked up at me. I could see her trying to put two and two together. “That’s Bolland and Kaner’s girlfriends,” I snapped, correcting her before the math in her head reached infinity. It was true, I wasn’t lying, but I didn’t like saying it out loud. She was his. It made her sound like a possession. 

I wanted to possess her so why did it sound so awful when I called her his, because I wanted her to be mine.

“Uh...okay,” Gabrielle said softly and fished for something out of her purse. A tissue, oh Christ on a bike she was going to cry now. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized again and meant it but not for this, just for the other stuff, the stuff that had come before. 

“Yeah...okay,” she said again. I nearly growled. I wanted her to scream at me. I wanted her to call me names and maybe pound her little fists against me. Not for her, not to make her feel better. It would be for me, because I felt so god damned guilty. 

“Are you gonna be alright?” I asked softly. I raised my hand to touch her cheek, to brush away a single silver tear that slid down her cheek but then I let my hand drop. I didn’t want to touch her, not even to make her feel better. 

“Yeah,” she sniffed and nodded and then looked away which meant she wasn't going to be fine at all. 

“Uh good.” It wasn’t enough but I didn’t really care. I wanted to be away from here. I wanted not to feel her eyes still on me. If I stayed here much longer I’d go back and maybe next time I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing all of the things that I wanted so badly to do. 

“Good luck this season okay?” Gabrielle said softly. It took me off guard. I had no right to her well wishes. I was an asshole. 

“Thanks...uh...you too,” I said and then shoved my fists into my pockets. We stood there for another long, endlessly silent moment, neither of us looking at the other as people began to pour out of the office buildings around us. If we weren’t careful we’d be dragged into the undertow of the rush hour migration. 

“Umm well...bye then,” she said softly and as she looked up at me her bottom lip quivered. For one second, one brief crazy moment, I almost gave in and took it all back. I wasn’t going to actually go after one of my teammates girlfriends. That was a line guys like me couldn’t afford to cross and I did need a release that wasn’t my own hand. Gabrielle knew my predilections. I wouldn’t have to break anyone else in, it would be easy but....

“Yeah, bye,” I agreed. She dropped her gaze and turned. In less than a second I couldn’t pick her out of the crowd on the sidewalk. She’d been swallowed up and carried away on the tide of humanity. 

I turned and looked down the street and could barely make out the tables on the patio. I was taller than most on the sidewalk but I still had to go up on my tip toes to see that there were now two empty chairs where they had been. 

It was probably a good thing, or at least that’s what I told myself as I turned, my fists still in my pockets, and slinked away.