Chapter 17

I know, I know, it's been forever but my co-author for this story has been going through some stuff and because I love her like a sister I didn't press the issue. However, she has very kindly given me permission to get back to this story and I hope that she knows that I appreciate that. So, sweets, here's the last chapter we were working on ages ago and I hope there will be more soon. 

 I generally didn't spend a lot of time at practices. It gets freaking cold when you're not the one putting out effort on the ice or surrounded by a crowd of bodies in the stands. On the road though, I liked to sit in every so often just to see the guys at a slightly less intense level. It wasn’t that they didn’t take practice seriously but especially on game days, Coach V liked to keep things light and I liked to see the boys smiling and goofing around. It was like eating sugary candy and it did my heart good.

 Opposite to what I would have guessed, Hank liked to have me there. He’d explained that when I showed up to watch them skate, there was a different spark of energy from the guys, a more competitive edge that he liked. That’s all fine and good but I also got a kick out of seeing Coach make them skate until they want to puke or watching them take unmerciful shots at whoever is strapped into the cage, which is in no way an exaggeration. One day I swung by to see one of the trainers literally tied between the posts, in full padding (I was hoping a little extra than usual) as the guys lined up to take slapshots at him.

The goalies got the biggest kick out of that since it gave them the opportunity to practice their end to end shots on goal, against someone who didn't have a choice but to let the puck go in. But then, as I’d been discovering, goalies are a separate breed entirely.

 That last morning on the road trip, while most of the guys were off at the nearest golf course in Glendale, I had hauled my ass out of the most luxurious hotel bed ever which I had finally had entirely to myself for a change just to grab a little one-on-one with our starting net minder, in the cold, cavernous expanse of Jobing Arena.

I had a bone to pick with Lou. 

There were still a couple of stragglers on the ice as I climbed through the railings to drop into the tunnel. Defence had been the last group booked for practice and I spotted Hammer and Ballard still out there working with Bones. I knew the forwards had been put through their paces earlier that morning. I’d got texts from both Chris and Danny asking if I was interested in joining them for lunch at the nineteenth hole but I had declined both. The mission I’d set myself was important and the sooner I dealt with it the better.  

Andrew Alberts was the only one left in the locker room aside from the equipment staff and he gave me the same curious, half terrified look he always did as I dropped my purse and jacket onto the bench in front of the nearest jersey. I ignored him and slipped my boots and socks off, rolling the hems of my jeans up over my ankles to keep them dry as I followed the sound of a truly shite rendition of Boogie Shoes by KC and the Sunshine Band.

 I loved all of my boys but some were considerably easier to look at naked than others. Lou was a hairy fucker, all angular with long, sinewy limbs. I leaned against the tiled shower wall and watched him sing into a bottle of body wash while shaking his narrow, barely there tushie. He was about to "take it to the bridge when he gave a spin and finally noticed that he had an audience.

 "Jesus H Christ!!!" The bottle dropped to the tile floor but Lou didn’t make an attempt to cover himself. Our starting goalie was far from bashful. He was startled but not offended. Lou was never the first guy to grab a towel.

 "Listen," I said seriously, "it's really fucking lucky that you have rhythm because you can't sing for shit, hon."

 "I can too," he chuckled once he recovered from the scare I had given him and kept one eye on me while loading a palm full of shampoo. "You're overdressed if you came to have fun."

 "From what I understand, you've been having plenty of fun lately." I met his gaze unerringly, watching as he blinked, slowly, once and then again, before finally shaking his head and then sticking it, dismissively, beneath the spray.

 "I'm not sure what you're talking about Sugar," he replied in a calm and dismissive tone that made it crystal clear he had no intention of having this discussion, which was too bad because I was going to whether he wanted to or not. I wasn’t as easily deterred as most of the reporters who tried to get more than a two word answer from him after a loss.

“Look, I’d let it go except that your wife power calls me when you don’t return her calls and just once I’d like to sleep through the night without her texting me a hundred times asking if I know where you are. So now I’m involved and we are going to talk about this.” He made a face that left no doubt that he disagreed. If I’d harbored any illusions that this was going to be easy, the unhappy expression on his face shattered it.

 "You’re not my shrink and you’re not my mother, I don’t owe you an explanation at all,” he sniped and was immediately the sullen, guarded net minder the press always bitched about.  

 "You know, we’re supposed to be friends and friends tell friends the truth; especially when that friend goes out of her way to save your fuckin’ bacon all the time, Lou!" I slapped my hand against the tiles which made a sound loud enough to startle him into looking at me. I'd be cursing him later once I paid some attention to my stinging palm but right at that moment, when he looked at me with his big, dark, puppy dog eyes I almost felt sorry for him. "You don't have to lie to me Lou. You’re right, I'm not your wife. But damn it man, you married the poor girl, the least you can fucking do is return her calls so that I don’t fucking have to.”

 He jerked as though I'd slapped him instead. "I'm...we're not...." Brow creased, he looked genuinely confused as to how to respond. "It's not what you're thinking."

 "Jesus Lou, at this point I’m beyond actually giving a shit," I admitted with a sigh. "Honestly, you’re right, it really is none of my business and you know I’m the last person that’s going to judge you. I don’t care whether you're banging the new intern in the box office or you're dressing in a clown suit at a biker bar and getting blown by midgets. I really don't give a shit. But at least let me know what the hell I'm supposed to be telling your wife when she calls looking for you every night."

 His shoulders sagged a little and he stared at the drain as suds from the washcloth in his hand cascaded onto the floor. "It's not every night."

 "Yeah but it is nearly every night," I countered softly, “and that's fine if that's what you want to do. But if she keeps calling me eventually I’m going to have to tell Gina something Lou, so help me, help you."

I cringed as the words came out of my mouth and his lips curved into a smile. "Help me, help you?" he repeated, amused.

 "Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes but grinned. "Obviously I have to add some variety to movie night or I'll be speaking in film quotes for the rest of my life." He chuckled and leaned back against the shower wall. "I'm serious though, Roberto. I'll do what I can to help you out but you need to help me out here. We have to at least sound like we’re on the same page."

“You’d do that...for me?” he asked and had the balls to look incredulous as he did.

“I’m here to help, in all kinds of capacities,” I reminded him and prayed silently he didn’t get any ideas about my spicing up his marriage for him. I liked Lou, to hang out with but at this point I didn’t want to get in bed with someone that had been putting it around like I knew he had.

“Would you...lie for me?” he asked, a playful smile growing on his lips that made him look like a douchebag used car salesman. It was the same expression he wore when he was about to go all in at the poker table.

I thought about what he was asking me for a long moment. "Do I need to?"

The smirk on his face died by degrees and he actually averted his eyes, turning to switch the water taps off. "I'd feel better not having this conversation naked."

"I'd feel better not having this conversation at all," I countered sincerely. Leaning to the side, I snagged the towel he had set there and tossed it to him.

He sluiced the water out of his dark hair with both hands and secured the towel around his narrow hips, fixing me with a teasing glare. "You owe me a shower."

"Ha. Take a number." There were some benches around the corner and he dropped heavily onto one. I perched on the counter opposite him, careful not to disrupt the collection of manscaping tools and expensive name brand grooming products. People that say women are high maintenance have never travelled with a group of guys so intent on looking their best all the time.

Lou sighed a bit and then straightened to face me head on. "Okay....I've been, I...uh...ummm...."

"Just rip the band aid off, buddy."

Had I known that careless suggestion would have inspired the verbal diarrheal that followed, I probably would have asked for the Coles’ notes. I sat there for a full five minutes as he did his best to explain everything that he'd been feeling for the last couple of seasons, all of the pressure he was under at home; the constant tug of war between Vancouver and Florida where Gina and the kids spent most of the year, the weight of the disappointment following the previous Stanley Cup run, the burn of the criticism from the fans all year round and the now constant reminders that our Ginger back up was breathing down his neck. It all came spewing out all at once and without seeming to stop for breath.

"... but with the others, with Carly, I don't have to think about any of that. I don't have to think about how I'm letting anyone down, how everyone thinks that I’m not good enough." He stared me down, daring me to disagree. I didn’t. "They treat me like I’m a superstar and on the nights when I need to hear it, Carly makes sure I feel like a fucking king.”

I said a silent prayer for the delicate male ego. "Gina would... "

"No," he said abruptly. "It's my job to be there for her. That's what the man’s supposed to do in a marriage. That's what - that's who I'm supposed to be. And I can't be her rock unless I feel like I’m impenetrable."

Jesus. What he'd said just clicked. Not only was there a variety of faceless puck fucks parading through to bounce on his dick but there was one girl in particular? I could feel a headache coming on. Pinching the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb was useless to divert the pain but I tried. "Wait, so you're telling me that... to save your marriage, you're regularly sleeping with someone else? Someone who, given the right incentive, could just as easily destroy your marriage and your reputation?"

He made a face. "She knows the score, Pen. Carly would never do that." I couldn’t help it. I smiled and shook my head.

"Roberto, after this front row seat to the completely ass-backward reasoning you filter life through, I can't even begin to pretend that I know a damned thing about the way men's minds work. But," I shrugged at him, "I can promise you I know a bit more about women than you do. My role on the team is to prevent grenades like Carly."

"Right," anger flashed in his eyes as he glared at me. "Well as much as you say you love everyone equally around here, you sure as hell couldn't have given me what she does."

Ouch. I sat up straighter and glared right back. "Oh please. Either you want your cock or your ego stroked. I'd do both but you never gave me the opportunity since apparently it takes a bloody village."

"This is exactly why I didn't come to you! I need a fucking cheerleader sometimes, Penny and I know you'd be the first one to turn the knife after a bad game!" He reared up, pointing a finger accusingly at me.

I batted his hand out of my face and hopped down, onto my feet. "Well maybe I'd be more inclined to cheer for you if you'd stay off your stomach and block shots on your feet for a fucking change! And stop cheating on your wife you asshole, it's tacky! You're killing your marriage faster than you kill a three nil lead!"

His brows drew together in a fierce frown and he opened his mouth to say something, no doubt something as equally harsh or twice as vicious but nothing else came out. "I don't want to lose my wife. I love my wife. But I need Carly. I don't see why it can't just keep going the way it has been." I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him.

 “Listen, I don’t pretend to be a marriage counsellor,” I sighed. I didn’t have to like it but I’d meant what I’d said to him earlier, it wasn’t my place to judge his behaviour. Gina was the only person who could decide what she would and would not put up with from her errant hubby. "But why don't you two snag a sitter and come by my place later this week. We'll have a drink, have some food, and I promise that I’ll do what I can to mediate."

"Seriously?" He looked shocked but I was pretty sure he wasn’t as shocked as I was uneasy about the suggestion I was making.

"Just this once," I decided, reaching out to poke him in the arm. "And enough of the 'you don't love me Penny,' bullshit. I care about all of you jerks. Yes, some more than others, but that's because some have larger dicks. Naturally, I like them better."

"Brat," he grinned like he'd just won the pot with a bluff and reached for the Canucks' logo in the middle of my sweatshirt. "You'd like my dick more than the others once you got some." I danced backward out of his range and shook my head.

"Nope. You know the rules, Lou. If you're getting it somewhere else, you can't get it here," I reminded him. It was for everyone's safety as much as my own.

His expression sobered but he nodded his understanding and ruffled my hair. “You’re the greatest, you know that?”

"Hell yeah," I said deadpan, heading for the exit, "I'm the mutherfucking princess."

It wasn't lost on either of us that I'd chosen to quote lyrics relating to a song lamenting his choice in women.

I walked out of the showers in the direction of my purse and boots. Alberts gave me another one of those wide eyed worried looks of his and whatever expression I returned to him must have been more ferocious than I’d intended because he hopped out of the room with one shoe on and the other in his hand in an effort to get away from me.

Gina was a friend. Okay not a close friend but I liked her despite her ice princess exterior and I hated to hear the desperation in her voice when she called. Stil..., doing what Lou needed me to do was my job, I reminded myself as I tugged my socks on. I'd play mediator and do my best to help them talk it out, yes, and I'd even lie if he really needed me to. But one of the greatest things I loved about being a Specialist and why the WAGS could appreciate or tolerate the necessity of a Specialist was the honesty surrounding my position. There were supposed to be no cover-ups, no pretending, no falseness or half truths. I really didn't want to lie to anyone or for anyone.

It chafed to think that even with options like me available to keep them entertained, there was every possibility that some of the guys were out on the sly – that they could be lying to me as well and that didn’t make me a very happy bunny.

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“Penny for your thoughts?” I sighed and tore my gaze from Lou who was wearing the kind of shit eating grin on his face that told me that he’d probably gotten lucky with one of the Coyote’s  Ice Girls before he’d left the arena. I’d seen him macking on a diminutive blonde in the hallway and had fought the urge to drag him away from her by his greasy curly hair. 

“You don’t want to know,” I promised and turned what I hoped wasn’t a disapproving schoolmarm expression towards Chris. He narrowed his summer sky blue eyes at me and I knew I’d failed miserably to hide my feelings. 

“He is who he is,” Chris whispered softly and reached over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Little touches like that erased all the negative feelings in my gut and I knew that now the expression on my face could only be described as ‘sappy’. “You’re not really worried about him are you?” he asked, his rough knuckles brushing my cheek tenderly, making the pit of my stomach clench. 

“I actually am, a bit,” I admitted and then heaved a sigh, “but honestly I’m worried about what I’ve gotten myself into.” Chris’s brow furrowed and his serious face almost made me laugh. It was one thing for the boys to turn a blind eye on their number one goaltender’s off- ice shenanigans but I knew damn well that didn’t mean that most of them wanted me to have anything to do with them. “I’ve agreed to play mediator for him and Gina,” I mumbled, sliding further down in the seat, reaching to flip up the arm rest between us so I could snuggle closer to him. Chris put his arm around my shoulder and I laid my head in the middle of his chest.

“And now you’re having second thoughts,” he filled in the words I hadn’t said out loud and I smiled. Chris was really beginning to get me. 

“Yeah well, no sooner did I agree to help than he’s fucking some other puck,” I sighed. “I’m just wondering why I offered at all, if I’ll just end up spinning my wheels. Maybe it would be better if he just got caught red handed.” I could hear the derisive little chuffing sound that Chris made in his throat and knew he agreed with that sentiment and then I felt his lips press to the top of my head. I wrapped my arm around his waist and closed my eyes. It was comforting to know we were on the same wave length. 

“You’ll figure something out,” he told me softly and I smiled. He really was getting me. The fact that he didn’t offer a solution meant he knew that I had to figure this out myself and it made me happy that he understood that. 

“Sure you don’t wanna join the mile high club?” I whispered, running my other hand down the inside of his powerful thigh. I felt his massive quadriceps flex under my fingertips and my mouth was suddenly dry as the Arizona desert. 

“The pilot would end up calling for military escort because they’d think someone was being killed in the bathroom you’d be screaming so fucking loud,” he promised with a throaty, masculine sounding chuckle. I shuddered at the image that filled my imagination of his powerful body pressing mine against the flimsy door of the plane’s pint-sized bathroom. 

“Maybe we should wait to get home,” I gasped.

“Maybe,” he agreed and I grinned as he gave my ass a firm slap as I cuddled closer.

“Hey, hey, seatbelts people!” Kev laughed as he strode by us towards the cabinet that hid the massive stash of candy bars and other sugary goodies. I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Mmmm restraints,” Chris purred, running his hand down over my thigh. 

“Oh god, now you’re killing me!” I groaned and he threw his head back and laughed loud and long. 

 ________________________________________________________________________

“Oh mannn, really?” Kess groaned as he turned the key in his hand attached to a simple silver keychain, a script letter ‘P’ and managed to look like a petulant little boy, even in a pair of cotton spandex boxer briefs that revealed that he was definitely not a little boy.

“All I’m saying is call or at the very least knock before you come in,” I giggled, leaned forward and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth. 

“But you’re kicking me out,” he whined and stuck his bottom lip out as far as it would go. I managed to restrain myself from tugging on it. 

“Me? No. Your wife is the one who put her foot down and gave you the ultimatum,” I pointed out. Kess sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, slumping back into the cushions of the couch and moaned. We’d come home from the Phoenix to find Andrea waiting with divorce papers in hand. “You need to go back to her Ryan,” I said softly, reaching for his hand, which without either of needing to try, laced with mine. We fit together in a lot of ways but I wasn’t in love with him and he wasn’t in love with me. 

“I know,” he sighed and one side of his mouth turned up an ironic half smile. “I’m just not looking forward to the next time she goes ape shit crazy on my ass.” I smirked and nodded. Neither was I and she’d sworn up and down at the airport that I was the reason he hadn’t come home and then she’d pulled my hair, again. Ryan grabbed her, Chris grabbed me. If they hadn’t I might have killed the bitch. “So…you gonna move him in full time or what?” Kess asked, changing the subject. 

“No!” I dug my foot into hip and pushed. “We still haven’t even slept together.” Ryan raised his eyebrows and grinned like he’d just been giving a totally juicy piece of gossip. 

“Stillll?” he shook his head. “I thought you two were getting it on the whole road trip.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. 

“There’s a difference between sleeping with and sleeping with,” I sighed and tried my best not to smile in that way that betrayed me every time except that I couldn’t help it. Whenever I thought of Chris this goofy smile just appeared on my face. 

“Okay, if you’re gonna make that face then I am gonna hit the head and then start packing.” I didn’t argue. With a shake of his head Ryan got up and walked towards the bathroom, from which Juice was just emerging in an itti bittie towel. I stared at his perfectly sculpted chest and let my gaze roam very slowly down to his directoral muscles and the goody trail in between. 

“So what’s this about our keys?” he asked. His set was probably still on my bedside table where he’d dropped them  right before he pulled my jeans down over my ass and fucked me from behind so hard he’d made the bed skip three inches across the floor. 

“Just what I told you earlier,” I explained, my gaze now lingering on his wide, wide shoulders. He flexed for me and I giggled. 

“I hope Higgs knows what kind of a sacrifice we’re making for him,” Kev teased, making his pecs dance, just because he knew it would make me laugh, which it did, every time.  

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate when you don’t come diving in like a puppy pile,” I reminded him, thinking of that final night in Phoenix when we’d all slept in one bed; just slept, no funny business. Not that I hadn’t wondered what it would be like to have all of them but until Chris and I actually consummated our relationship, all of those kinds of thoughts were strictly off limits. Still, a girl could dream. 

“Spoil sport,” Kev coughed behind his fist and then whipped off his towel and walked back towards my room, buck naked and swinging that toned ass like a pendulum, mesmerizing me. I stared after him, licking my lips. It was an invitation to join him of course but I had a date with Lou and Gina. After all, I’d promised, even if it was a promise that ass was making me regret. 

________________________________________________________________________

“That’s what she’s for!” Gina tearfully pointed at me and then hid her tear stained face behind her hands again while I glared at Lou. I wanted to scream at him that he should at least make some attempt to hide his indiscretion better but I bit my tongue instead and filed that particular retort away for later.

“Baby, it’s not that I don’t love you. You know that right?" He reached across the island in my kitchen that separated them, tipped her chin up and gave her a truly heart warming smile. "Hey, I married you.”

Ugh. That was boy logic if I'd ever heard it. I did believe that he believed it. The way he looked at the pretty woman in front of him with her long stick straight black hair and naturally tanned skin. Everyone knew what Lou had done when he had insisted on more time off to be with Gina both times she’d given birth. It had pissed off the fans and even isolated himself from a couple of the guys on the team but it had been important for him to be there with her. 

What I found harder to believe was that the same guy would risk being caught with a blonde floozy on his lap at one of the nicest and most expensive restaurants in this town.

“Why don’t you just fuck her like everyone else does?” Gina sniffed, flinging an arm in my direction. Her gaze snapped to mine and she telegraphed a silent apology for the way it had come out of her mouth. The apology wasn’t necessary, I understood what she meant and took no offense but still I winced and braced myself for what was coming. I already knew what Lou’s answer was going to be, though I silently prayed he would just tell her the truth, how he needed the adrenalin rush, the win, especially the adoration and ego inflation on a bad night or after a loss.

Instead he stuck to the script he’d come up with.

“She’s not my type.”

Boy logic indeed. I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten. A blind orang-utan could tell I looked more like Gina than either of us looked like the blonde he'd been cheating with. Okay, maybe my tits were bigger than Gina’s but if ‘blonde’ was his type then what did that say about the woman he married?

I could feel the anger radiating from the slim woman to my right and was glad that Juice had the forethought to remove the block of knives from the kitchen and hide it in the linen closet. Not that I had any plans to stop her from cutting him up if she really wanted to. As far as I was concerned she had every right to. I mean, Andrea sure as hell didn’t like it that I slept with her husband but at least she knew where he was and who he was with.

“So what am I then, just a legal baby making machine?” Gina growled. Her tears had begun to subside as rage took over. I watched her hands curl into fists as she stared her husband down. I glanced over at Lou and he had the nerve to stare blankly back as if there was nothing wrong with that idea.

“You’re the mother of my beautiful babies,” he replied simply, as if there could be no other answer, as if he honestly couldn't understand why she was so upset, why being his own personal baby maker might not be enough.

The guys and I had talked about this, amongst ourselves, and it shocked me how many of them thought this way; that once the babies were born, sex for fun went out the window. That once they’d watched their wives give birth they couldn't imagine doing the raunchy stuff they'd previously enjoyed. They loved and respected their wives for the strength it took to give birth and the patience it took to look after their children, especially when the guys were away, which was all well and good but what I heard most from their wives was how much more fun their relationships had been before the kids had come along.

So help me, before my contract was up, I planned to get it through their thick skulls that squirting out a few kids didn't make a woman a saint or turn her instantly wholesome and vanilla. God damn it, these girls deserved a little freaky in their lives too!

Gina looked over, silently entreating me to help. I slid a little lower in the chair and felt guilty for not leaping to her aid. If she’d slapped him I would have known what to do but her looking helplessly towards me put me in a very precarious and difficult position. Everyone accepted that I was practically one of the guys and I honestly understood why Lou felt like he needed to just fuck away a loss and that he honestly believed, no matter how insane the thought was, that he couldn’t use his wife for that. Still that didn’t change the fact that his wife was sitting there in obvious pain and she deserved someone’s help.

It was killing me to see them in this situation. Mentally, I added another stone of condemnation to his side of the scale since it wouldn't have happened if he'd simply come to me like he was supposed to!

Hey, when I said I didn't judge, I meant out loud.

Taking a deep breath I figuratively held my nose and jumped off the cliff. “It seems that Roberto was only seeing this one girl and he hasn’t slept with me, at all, so it is kinda the same.” This was the lie he’d concocted, that he was certain she’d accept; that there was just one other woman. He thought that would make her more amenable to the idea of his having a mistress, that cheating with one woman was better than a revolving door of sluts and hoes. I didn’t follow the logic, but then who was I to throw stones? I was currently sitting in a big glass house.

As I had expected, Gina looked even more hurt than she had the moment before I’d said it. I could see the exact second as she struggled to hold it together and I wished, more than anything, that I could take it back. I gripped the edge of the table, stared down at stark, cold granite and wished it would swallow me up. It took everything I had to keep my gaze lowered and not to glare at Lou. I really, really wished that I hadn’t promised to help.

“You see?” he added, sounding far too pleased with himself. That’s when I did shoot him a look so that my displeasure would be known. Unfortunately he only had eyes for his wife who was still looking like someone had just broadsided her with a shovel. “It’s just one girl and baby, you’ve got to believe me, she doesn’t mean anything to me.”

I could see the struggle behind Gina’s big dark eyes as she tried to believe what he was telling her. It made me want to hug her but I kept my hands there on the edge of the table and did nothing. The thing was, Lou believed in what he was saying and I knew that he could sell it because he did.  If I so much as looked at her, she’d know, instantly, that he was lying.

Gina swallowed hard. “You took her to Il Giardino. We haven’t been there since…,” her voice trailed away and big, fat, silvery tears filled her eyes. If I’d had to hazard a guess, and I did automatically, I’d have said the last time they'd been to their favourite restaurant together was to celebrate her first pregnancy; the one that had ended too soon.

“Exactly!” he pounced, looking even more earnest and determined than before. “Why would I take you back there and remind you of that?”

I glanced at him, at his hair greased back on his forehead (leaving his signature widow’s peak that caused some of the fans to call him ‘the Count’ in reference to the one on Sesame Street), and I was sure he’d never thought of that when he’d taken his piece on the side to one of the best restaurants in the city. He’d done it to show off; just like when he did that round the world catch he often made on the ice, because he could.

When I turned back to Gina there was just the hint of acceptance on her face and her eyes softened as she gazed at him. She was swallowing his line of bullshit and it made me furious but I couldn’t show it. This wasn’t a decision that I could make for her. He was her husband and she had to decide just how much shit she was willing to take from him.

On the other hand, as I sat watching him coddle her like he was offering her a rainbow and not a life of playing second fiddle, I began to see myself in her shoes and I wasn’t sure I liked that at all. At the end of this season, if things with Chris continued to go the way I was certain that they would, stepping down from my position as the Specialist would mean taking my place as just another WAG.

Would I be paranoid twenty-four-seven like Andrea or would I suffer silently like Gina? Would Chris cheat on me? Could it be called that after he’d spent all this time waiting for me to fuck my way through his teammates?

“I...I think you guys can take it from here. I have to go.” I didn’t wait for either of them to ask me where I was going or why I was leaving them in my place. I got up and headed for the door. They could lock up when they left or not. Right at that moment it didn’t matter to me. 

________________________________________________________________________

Once I hit the street I kept walking, no particular destination in mind, but eventually I found myself standing outside of the building Chris lived in and I before I realized it I was knocking on the door.

“Hey, this is surprise,” he grinned and ran one of his hands through his mussed hair, like he’d been sleeping or….

“Um... if this is a bad time…?” I told myself to stop being paranoid and, alternatively, even if he did have someone in his bed it wasn’t like I wasn’t fucking the entire team and I didn’t have the right to be angry or jealous.

“No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see you,” he continued to grin as if butter wouldn’t melt as he leaned in to press a kiss against the corner of my mouth. Or it could have been that was all I would allow him to do before I squeezed past him with visions of discovering some blonde bimbo with pale pink lipstick and bad hair-extensions. I surveyed the room with a huge LED screen dominating one wall and an equally long and deep saddle leather sofa dominating the rest of the room and no sign of a girl of any kind in sight that I could scratch the fake eyelashes off of.  “Looking for something?”

“Um…no,” I lied but not quickly enough to cover up a furtive glance towards the kitchen.

Chris tilted his head to one side and smirked, like I was doing something amusing instead of something I ordinarily would have thought of as despicable and pathetic. “Not that I’m not happy to see you babe, but you look like you’re looking for something or maybe…., someone?”

"Of course not," I sputtered. "Why? Is there someone here?" Jesus, I was five seconds away from checking under the couch cushions but I tried my damndest to sound like it didn’t matter one way or the other.

"Well, well, well... this is an interesting turn of events." He looked positively gleeful that I was behaving like a crazy jealous girlfriend and I didn’t know who I was more upset with as I turned my back on him. Me, for being suddenly insanely and without foundation jealous or him for thinking it was so fucking amusing. “Oh c’mon Penn,” he cooed as his big hands settled on my shoulders, “after all my tantrums that I’ve thrown this season, you have to let me rub it in just a little bit, puhleeeeeeeze?”

As he nuzzled my temple I relaxed back against him. There was no point in denying the obvious. I was behaving as if he’d already done something to deserve my mistrust and I was the only person in the room that had done anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” I sighed, “You must think I’ve lost my mind.”

I could hear his deep, masculine chuckle as he wrapped his big arms around me. “Actually I was kinda wondering when this was going to hit you,” he told me softly. Confused, I turned in the circle of his arms and stared into those sexy, bedroom eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I come from a long line of cops and firefighters Pen, I’m a practical guy. I like to think things through in a logical way. I knew you had to get past the loved up stage eventually and join me in reality.”

A frown formed on my face and I pushed him back a bit. "Wow," I strode across the room to plant myself on the far end of the couch from where I continued to frown at him. “So you’re past loved up?” I asked quietly. It felt like he’d stabbed me in the gut and yet he was still smiling at me like I was doing something adorable instead of deplorable.

“Penn, I didn’t mean that I don’t love you,” he sighed and crossed the room to on the coffee table in front of me, reaching to take both of my hands while he gave me his serious face, “I just mean I could kind of tell that you hadn’t thought about what would happen when it was just, y'know, you and me.”

I had no argument to that. I felt my shoulders fall and suddenly I couldn’t look at him. “When you say it like that…I feel completely ridiculous.” The rhythmic stroke of his thumbs along the back of my hands was comforting. I knew that he hadn't said it to make me feel that way but it didn’t seem to quell the tide of negative that was threatening to blow me apart from the insides.

“Well I don’t mean for you to feel that way babe,” he said softly. He meant it. I knew that he actually felt bad about it, but recognizing that still didn’t help me feel any better.

“I don’t want to turn into…into Andrea,” I admitted. The heavy silence that followed my admission was not a good sign. “Shit Chris,” I grumbled and pulled my hands back to hug my arms defensively around myself. I was really beginning to feel like falling apart.“This is where you say I’d never be like that, like her.” I stared at him and waited for that casual happy go lucky grin of his to appear but he just returned my gaze looking…apprehensive. “Oh…oh wow,” I felt the knife twist in my stomach and had to swallow bile as it bubbled up in my throat. “You actually think I could end up as crazy as her, don’t you?”

He obviously didn’t want to say it out loud but he really didn’t have to, it was clear as day on his handsome face. It was suddenly very, very hard not to cry.

Chris scrubbed a hand over his stubble and sighed. “Well…maybe not as bat shit crazy as Andrea but you’ve just proved that you’ve got some jealous tendencies dontcha think?” I refused to reply. After all, he’d already done a good job of rubbing that in. "Penny, it's not the end of the world, okay?" He reached over and slowly, gently, cupped my cheek as he fought not to smile. I was so not impressed that he found this even slightly amusing. “Babe, it makes me feel good that you care about me that much.”

It was a nice try but it didn’t change that I felt like an enormous idiot right at that moment. “Now you’re just being patronizing,” I huffed and refused to give into the urge to lean my face into his hand, to be drawn into the desire to kiss him as leaned into my personal space.

“I’m glad this came up,” he said quietly, like he was expecting me to freak out at any moment. “I’m glad I didn’t have to force this discussion. We really have to talk about what happens at the end of the season because if we’re going to continue with this relationship then I think we need to figure out what happens when you're not the Specialist anymore.”

I’d already come to that conclusion but I hadn’t yet connected all the dots. If I wasn't on the payroll that would mean some other girl would take my place. And that girl might…would very likely…and then on the road…. “I feel sick,” I mumbled, getting to my feet and stumbling toward the door.

“Pennnnn,” He sounded exasperated but I couldn't turn around. I wanted to yell and break things and generally be as immature as the realization that I was could be just as envious as Andrea and that made me feel like I might want to rip some perfectly innocent girl’s hair out just for looking at my man and I didn’t want to be that girl.

“Just give me a minute, Chris," I requested quietly, leaning my forehead against the doorframe. "I need to let this... sink in. I need to come to terms with a few things so I don’t feel so stupid,” I listened to his muted sounds of his sock covered feet crossing the hardwood floor and then felt his big hands settled on my hips. Any other day that would have made me want to lean back into him, to feel his big, solid body behind mine but right at that moment, this was the last place I wanted to be. “I’ll call you later,” I muttered.

________________________________________________________________________

It took an effort of will I didn't realize I possessed but I forced one foot to move in front of the other until I was back out on the sidewalk and walking down the street, ignoring the other late afternoon shoppers with their brightly coloured bags with their expensive lattés, texting on their iPhones as they walked around me. I kept going, not feeling the cold sting of the rain as it began to fall, marching right past my own building and up to a townhouse several blocks in a direction I had never taken before.

The wind had picked up along with the rain and I was saturated as I stood on the doorstep of a townhouse I’d never been to and waited for my knock to be answered.Part of me was hoping it wouldn't be and I was seconds away from leaving when the door finally swung open.

She looked just as surprised to see me as anyone else would have been.

"He's not here," she blurted out, wariness evident all over her face and confusion too.

"I know that," I said quietly, not moving an inch while I waited for her to clue into the fact that I wasn't here for her husband, I was here to see her. However this was going down wasn't up to me. I was allowing her to make the choice, giving her the power to make the decision whether or not to let me pass.

She could have slammed the door in my face. Considering our history, that was actually the reaction I’d been expecting and quite frankly suddenly I felt like that was what I deserved, but after a long moment where she stared me down, she stepped back and out of the way so that I could cross the threshold and into her home.

I followed her through the hall and into the kitchen where a batch of cookies were cooling on a tray on the counter. "You bake?"

"For Michaela's dance recital," she shrugged. "Some moms do orange slices. I bake. It relaxes me."

My attention caught on the collection of full cookie tins stacked on the table in the nook and I glanced at her. "There are worse vices."

She almost smirked. "I've been told I'm a nasty drunk." I bit the inside of my cheek hard in an attempt not to smile at the fact that she had a sense of humour. Who knew? The silence stretched between us until she finally gave in. "What do you want?"

"I don't want to be you."

Okay, in all fairness, I hadn't actually planned on going to her house at all so it wasn't like I had a speech prepared. But I probably could have opened with something a little less...well, harsh.

Andrea tipped her head back and laughed. Like full out, belly busting laughter and I let her. She deserved the moment.

It took her a while to regain her composure but when she did, her face was red and there were tears on her cheeks. "Well, look who just woke the fuck up." I decided I deserved that too and kept my mouth firmly shut. Her smile turned deadly and only then did I begin to worry about the sharp knives nearby but I just stood there and stared at her. There was no real point in arguing. She wasn't exactly wrong.

"Jesus Christ, what did you do, swim here?" Andrea turned on her heel and marched in the direction of the laundry room, returning with an oversized towel that she flung at me. "You're dripping on my floor." I blinked at her back, disbelieving that I was going to get off that lightly. I guess I’d wanted the speech, figured I deserved it.

Catching the towel I glared at her. "I'm sorry. Seriously, I apologize that you hate me so fucking much, but there really isn't any reason to be such a colossal bitch all the damned time."

Her head tilted slightly and she aimed a smile at me that sent a chill right up my spine. "Isn't there?"

Fuck. This day continued to colossally suck. My thoughts were messed up from the whole Gina and Lou thing and seriously shaken from the Chris conversation and obviously I was suffering from some form of PTSD because no one in their right mind would have willingly subjected themselves to this. "Y'know what? Nevermind," I draped the towel over the closest stool and decided to leave. "I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here."

She waited until I got to hall and then called out. "You're here because you broke the rules and now you want to know what’s going to happen." I stopped but didn't turn. It felt, very distinctly, like she’d just thrown a knife and it had lodged, quite deeply, in my back."You did exactly what you weren't supposed to do, what you were told never to do. It doesn't matter that you excelled in every other aspect of your job," her voice got stronger as she moved closer to me, "you violated the one, the only cardinal rule." I could feel her, inches away from me. "Silly bitch, they don't tell us not to fall in love with them for their sake."