Chapter 12

With the continued assistance of The Mere, I present the next chapter

It had been a long, intense, but thoroughly enjoyable trip to Ottawa but now that we were back on the west coast, I was very ready to crawl into my bed and sleep for a long, long time. 

Except, apparently, the universe had other plans for my tired ass. 

I dropped my bags as soon as I stepped inside the front door to the condo and reached out to flip on the lights but someone else beat me to it. A lamp switched on in the living room, just about giving me a coronary. 

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!" I shouted, clutching a hand to my chest. Chris stared at me in the dim light but didn't move from where he was currently taking up real estate on my sectional. "What the fuck are you doing here sitting in the dark? No, wait, what the fuck are you doing here full fucking stop and the fuck did you get in?!"

With his elbows propped on his knees, he shrugged. "I kinda dozed off. Didn't even realize how dark it had gotten."

That didn't explain how he'd gotten in and I guess I'd already guessed at the why. Beneath my hand, my heart finally started to slow a bit once my brain had registered that I was not actually in danger of being killed by an intruder. Of course I didn't expect my pulse to stay relaxed for long since, really, it was impossible not to recognize Chris as a threat of some sort. Taking a deep breath, I leaned down and yanked off my ankle boots, tossing them toward the entry closet. "It's late. I'm tired, and you've probably just got off the plane from Hawaii so you should be too so whatever this," I gestured vaguely between us, " is supposed to be, it should probably wait for another time or…or I'm probably going to say something I'll regret."

Chris didn't move but his eyes swept over me, from my lazy ponytail to the toes of my sunshine yellow socks peeking out from beneath the hems of my jeans. The constant hell of caring about him and the torment of being continually questioned about the nature of our relationship, never mind the fact that we weren't actually having a relationship... the whole shebang was just too emotionally draining and I was already on the verge of cracking - I really didn't have it in me to go another ten rounds. 

"Chris," I pleaded quietly, pressing my fingertips against my temples, "Please, I'm fucking begging here, just...not tonight, okay?" I could feel the sting of tears building in my eyes and knew I was seconds from an exhausted meltdown. I really didn't want him there when it happened. "I'm sure you have a fabulous monologue prepared explaining all the ways I've taken whoring to a whole new level but I really just can't do this right now. Give me a few days and then I'll be better prepared to handle whatever you have to throw at me. But just... not right now."

It pissed me off to have to beg, to let him know that he really and truly had the upper hand here and that he could easily do significant damage with very little effort on his part in the shape I was currently in. I looked over to where he was still watching me like he was expecting me to sprout a disco ball and a brass pole and sighed. There really is nothing quite like having the man that holds your heart in the palm of his hands look at you like you're the Whore of Babylon.

"Did you know…when you went to with them, did you know you were going to sleep with…someone else?" So he was going to ignore my plea. I don't know why I was disappointed but I had to fight to hold back a scream of sheer frustration as I dragged my ass to the wingback chair across from him and dropped into it.

"Do you ever get bored of judging people?" I asked, feeling tired and irritated as I stared him down. His blue eyes opened a little wider. So I'd surprised him with that one. Well I guess that was one point for me.

"How could you just…give yourself to a complete stranger?" he replied, ignoring my question. Smirking, I dramatically rolled my eyes.

"Actually it was a treat and kind of educational.  It's amazing how some things translate despite a language barrier. But I guess 'yes', 'harder', and 'don't stop' are pretty much universal." I countered, tilting my head to one side and waiting for his answer. It wasn't my imagination. He blanched and then clenched his teeth. I was too tired to be intimidated. I was too tired to even care how this went down. I wasn't the one who'd asked for this fight.

"Our guys…that's one thing but…I can't believe Hank pimped you out like that!" he growled. I dropped my head into my hands. He still didn't get it and I was tired of trying to explain it to him.

"You know what? Sex is fun, maybe you should try it some time. I mean not with me, obviously because I'm the worst person in the entire world according to you but…you know, maybe you wouldn't be so fucking uptight if you would just get your rocks off once in a fucking while." God it sounded so loud when I said it and then it got so quiet; the kind of quiet that was heavy and so, so quiet.

"It's supposed to mean something," he hissed at me like I was the misbehaving child at church, like what he wanted to do was smack my impudent face. I stared back at him and for a single, shining moment I tried to ignore that little voice in the back of my head that was telling me to let him have it, and then I didn't.

"Did it mean something with that puck in Boston?" If I'd thought it was quiet before it got empty museum quiet then as he stared at me like I'd actually just stuck a knife in his gut. I felt like I had. I felt like I could feel his blood pouring over my hand.

Well good, I thought, staring back at him, he'd been hurting me enough.

"I came here to talk about us," he said quietly and then turned his face away so it fell back into the shadows.

"Us?" I snickered. It was just so absurd. "There is no us, you've made that abundantly clear."

"You won't do the one thing…," he began but I held up my hand. I couldn't listen to this argument any more.

That's when Kris Letang's words came back to me. 

"I don't think I could be satisfied with just one man Chris. I'm sorry if that doesn't fit into the unicorn rainbow world you live in but…I like sex, a lot and I'm not going to apologize to you or anyone else for enjoying it. I wish you'd accept that they way you accept Kess for having crazy hair or…or Burr for telling lame jokes." I looked up at him, a kernel of hope deep in my gut making me expect to see the truth of what I'd just said dawning on his face but, predictably, he frowned and shook his head.

"That's not the same at all. It's not like having a big nose or something, you get paid to sleep around!" he snarled, exasperation clear in his tone. I just shrugged.

"I do and I enjoy it and I'm done apologizing for that. I like having sex and I know, in here," I continued, holding my hand over my heart, "that if you and I could get beyond this bullshit that what we would have between us would be different and I could prove to you that I can have more than just sex but I'm not gonna beg you to sleep with me Chris. This is your problem, it's not mine. Now, I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed so either you come with me or you go home but either way, this conversation is over." I wearily pushed myself to my feet and stumbled as I got upright. I didn't see him move but Chris caught me when I swayed and I blinked up into his furious gaze. "Jeezus Chris, whatryagonnado, hit me?" I asked, realizing in that moment that it would almost be a relief if he did. At least then, I told myself as I stared back into his eyes that always struck me as being the colour of deep ocean pools, I could get over him.

"Do you know how hard this is for me?" he hissed at me as his thick fingers dug into my upper arms. I smirked at him sleepily and shook my head.

"I guess kind of as hard as it is for me to have you look at me like I'm something you've just scraped off the bottom of your shoe." He blinked and some of the rage leaked out of his eyes. "Kind of like knowing that you like me and hate me at the same time," I continued, feeling that familiar ball of emotion rising up in my throat, threatening to choke me. Slowly I felt his fingers stop digging into my flesh and then, haltingly, he lifted one hand to cradle my cheek. I gritted my teeth. Part of me wanted to sob like a baby at the tenderness of his touch and the sudden change in his expression but the other part, the bigger part of my brain screamed at me not to believe it, that it would only last a minute and then he'd be back to calling me a slut and worse.

Except that he didn't. While the pad of his thumb gently stroked my cheek he cursed quietly.

"I don't hate you," he whispered, as if he was also having trouble forcing his voice around his own tangle of emotion. "I want to hate you," he added even more quietly as he reached up and slowly tugged the elastic from my ponytail. I refused to groan out loud, even though that was my gut reaction. I forced myself to keep my eyes open, not close them and lean into his hand as he raked it gently through my hair.

"I'm too tired for games Chris," I muttered, clinging to my anger like a life raft. I stared at him, into those afternoon sun blue eyes and dared him to say one more thing about my being a whore and I was going to gladly slap his handsome face.

"Me too," he replied softly and then, before I could properly process what he was doing, he dropped his hand from hair to the small of my back, pulled me against him and kissed me, hard.

The angel on one shoulder broke out her pom-poms and danced a jig while the devil on my other shoulder stuck out her tongue and called bullshit on the whole proceedings. I fell somewhere in the middle, between wanting to dig my fingers into his coarse sandy blonde hair and wrap my legs around his waist and wanting to push him away and tell him to leave. My body had already surrendered but I still didn't trust him.

"Stop," I breathed, managing to push him away, just enough to get some air. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" One corner of his mouth curled into a smile. My legs turned into limp spaghetti noodles as he stroked the back of my neck with his fingers. I bit my bottom lip hard enough that I tasted blood.

"So you're allowed to fuck all my teammates and guys on other teams but I can't even kiss you?" he asked a little breathlessly, smirking at me like I was the one that had done something funny. I frowned at him.

"I'm getting whiplash from your mood swings. You should see someone for that. I think you can get some medication," I pointed out. His gaze stayed locked on my mouth.

"Damn it woman, do you have to have a smart come back for everything?" he grated out, leaning in so that his lips were almost brushing my cheek and I could feel the moist warmth of his breath on my ear. "I want to stay," he whispered. "I want to erase every single memory you have of being with another man and I know I could… but…I'm not there yet."

"Not…? What the fuck are you talking about?" I stuttered as he drew back, cradling my face in both of his big, rough, scarred hands.

"Do you have to argue about everything?" he groaned before pressing his mouth softly over mine once more in a kiss that was rather chaste but still made my toes curl. "G'night baby," he added softly, holding my gaze for one more, long moment and then he turned and left, just like that. Not another word, leaving me staring at a closed door and wondering what the in the Sam Hill had just happened. 

"Oh good," Katie patted the spot next to her on the couch in the player's lounge. "I want to hear all the gossip from the all star game." I smiled, my thoughts immediately going back to that hotel room, the dark haired Frenchman and a bowl of freshly whipped cream he'd ordered from room service.

"Well I can tell you this much, it was fun, I'd do it again," I added with a smirk and wink. Juice's wife groaned and looked envious.

"Spill it, who'd you end up with?" Joann snorted, joining us on the couch and digging her elbow playfully into my side. I batted my eyelashes at her and shook my head.

"A Specialist doesn't kiss and tell, you know the rules," I insisted.

"Fuuuck that," Gina snorted, dropping her very expensive Coach bag between her feet as she joined us. "Spill bitch," she added playfully, "unless of course it was that douche Kane in which case I don't wanna hear it."

"It wasn't," I insisted, laughing as I recalled how at breakfast the next day he'd practically begged for a turn.

"Was it Jamie Benn `cuz he's kinda cute," Johanna asked, blushing when everyone made kissing sounds at her.

"No, oh my god, you're worse than the boys," I laughed. "Okay, fine it was Kris Letang." The room fell silent in an instant and the expression on every woman's face in the room made it clear that every last one of them had thought about being in my shoes and each one of them sighed wistfully.

"Oh please tell me he was as good as I imagine he is," Katie sighed.

"And then some," I admitted. They all heaved another sigh. I shook my head and started to giggle, and then stopped.

He was standing just inside the room, already in his hockey pants and socks but with that torn half shirt he wore under his jersey, his perfectly formed abs on display. Every pair of eyes turned towards him but his gaze was on me, and me alone. He looked decidedly unhappy.

Oh hell.

Chris turned and walked back through the door to the locker room, slamming the door so hard that it left a divot in the dry wall. I stared at that divot and inexplicably felt everything below my belly button clench with desire.

"Oooh someone's not happy you got to play with the Disney Prince." I turned and blinked at Gina. Jesus Christ on a bike, did everyone know how Higgy felt but me?

"Okay, really, everyone keeps saying stuff like that but honestly..," I started to dispute it but Katie reached over and laid her hand atop one of mine.

"I was in Hawaii with him. It was Penny this and Penny that and believe me, there were some very pretty girls in teenie weenie bikinis around. Chris didn't look at any of them." I stared at her, my mouth open to argue but then I thought of the kiss and…I couldn't.

"Oh my god Lappy, Juice and Higgy in nothing but shorts?" Gina fanned herself and everyone laughed. Everyone but me. 

I sat on the edge of my seat most nights, living and dying with each shift, feeling each hit, celebrating each goal like it was the last of the season. Against the Hawks though, it felt like I couldn't breathe. Actually it was like the entire city was sitting on the edge of their seats, holding their breaths and wishing violent and bloody thoughts towards each and every player in a Chicago jersey, especially Ratface Bolland.

Schneids was amazing, like he usually was and the home fans cheered boisterously for every save he made, taunting Toews and Kane every time he made a glove save look easy. It didn't take long for Kess to put us in the lead, a wrister from the half boards that had the entire arena on their feet and howling for blood. Ryan celebrated with a cocky grin that made me shake my head and laugh.

Unfortunately it didn't take long for the Hawks to even the score when Seabrook made a beautiful saucer pass and Mayers put it over Cory's shoulder. The crowd groaned and fell silent, sullenly watching the despised Hawks celebrate.

Then Coach put Hansen and Lappy out with Chris and I was forced to bite my nails to the quick as they raced into the Hawks end and started throwing hits like Jehova Witnesses handout leaflets on a Saturday morning. I knew and most of the crowd seemed to sense that Chris wasn't exactly a hundred per cent yet and I winced every time he put a shoulder into a Hawks jersey. I waited for him to crumple. He didn't. The boys kept the Hawks pinned in their own end for the rest of the period but Crawford stood his ground and protected his crease. We went through the entire second period without either team gaining any ground.

I hadn't even returned to my seat with a slice of lukewarm pizza when the hulking Swede Stalberg opened the third with a pretty back hand that squeaked past Schneids. The crowd grumbled making their discontent known as Toews and Kane lead Stalberg down the bench, hooting and hollering like they'd won the game.

AV put the energy line back out on the ice and as they lined up to take the face off against Sharp, Hossa and BMo, Chris stood at the top of the circle and feigned checking the blade of his stick. Except he wasn't looking at his stick at all; he was looking over it and past the Hawks bench… right at me.

If I hadn't already been confused I was downright baffled now. The expression in his eyes was dark and clearly unhappy and I felt it right down into the pit of my stomach. I was certain that look had nothing to do with the loathed Hawks. I was absolutely convinced it was entirely my fault.

"What the fuck?" I muttered and slid down in my seat, wishing for a pit to open up and swallow me whole. It was too intimate an exchange. It felt like the whole crowd had turned to look at me. I even glanced up at the scoreboard to see if I was on the damned Kiss Cam or something.

The puck had barely hit the ice when Chris took a run directly at Hossa. The only way it could have been more of a suicide mission was if he'd taken a run at Keith, Seabrook or worse, that giant meathead Scott. Hossa barely flinched. Chris took the worst of the hit and ended up slumping to the ice.

I heard the squeak that came out of my mouth and immediately tried to stifle it with both of my hands. I'd seen all of our guys take and give hits and I'd experienced everything between concern and outrage before but this was different. I felt… desperately worried.

"Jesus Christ Pen, get your shit together," I muttered to myself. The middle-aged man sitting beside me with his wife glanced sideways at the crazy woman talking to herself. I grinned at him and shrugged. Well, what else could I do? I probably sounded schizophrenic.

"You know what you need to do," Gina murmured without looking up from her iPhone. I blinked at her, totally having forgotten she was sitting next to me. I hadn't paid the least bit of attention to her since the game had begun.

"What's that?" I hissed back.

"Talk to him," she suggested quietly, pulling up the now infamous "six pack" shot of Chris on her phone and flashing it at me with a wicked smile. "Because neither of you can keep pretending you don't want to jump each other." I opened my mouth to protest, even to say that I'd rather jump her husband than Chris, but Cody lined up at the top of the circle and snapped one past Crawford and the entire arena got to their feet, me right along with them.

We were tied and there was still fifteen minutes left in the third.

As soon as Danny roofed one into the back of the net, sending Crawford's water bottle flying and everyone in the arena to their feet, ending overtime, I turned and headed down the corridor. I'd spent the balance of the third period trying to decipher Chris's actions. The guy ran hot and cold like a faucet. I didn't know which end was up and more than that, I didn't know what to feel when I was near him.

Being around him was like riding a rollercoaster in the dark. I didn't know when the twists and turns were coming and half the time I didn't know which side was up and which side was down.

My body wanted him in the worst way. He barely had to touch me and I was on fire but at the same time all he had to do was look at me and I wanted to hiss, spit and claw like a cat. He could make me so angry in one minute and turn me into melted butter the next.

It had to stop.

I had a job to do and he was a distraction but worse than that, he had constantly been doing everything in his power to belittle me. I'd long since gotten past the sticks and stones part of it, but he needed to stop talking to everyone else in the league about me and start actually talking to me.

He was outside the room, out of his skates and jersey but still in full body armour standing in the hallway surrounded by reporters and cameras. I looked at his bare feet on the concrete floor and bit my bottom lip. Skater's feet, like those of ballerinas, are a mess of bruises, bunions, twisted and broken toes and yet they are delicate, sensitive things and I couldn't help but stare and, god help me, want to touch them.

"Hey sexy, you waitin' for me?" I had stopped halfway down the hall, out of range of the cameras and was leaning against the wall watching the scrum so intently I hadn't heard the door of the opposition room open. I turned to see Patrick Kane smirking at me in nothing but a towel. I rolled my eyes.

"You wish," I sighed and kept my eyes glued north of shoulders. It wasn't that he was bad to look at. It was just that I didn't want to encourage him.

"Aw c'mon, we let your guys win, the least you can do is give me a sympathy fuck," he grinned like he'd made a funny.

"That is so not in my contract," I chuckled. I'd figured out in Ottawa that Kane was pretty much harmless, mostly bark and literally no bite. I'd also been told that he was almost all show and no go in the sack, more impressed with himself than he'd ever be with the women he slept with.

"You're killing me," he exaggerated a stumble backwards, clutching his chest. I shook my head at him. He was an overgrown teenage boy. Once realized that, his antics didn't bother me.

"If you don't go back to your own room, I'll kill you."

Oh. Shit.

Pat's eyes widened and flashed with unholy amusement as he looked past me at the wall of muscle suddenly at my back.

I tensed and bristled at having him come to my rescue when I didn't need rescuing. Plus, was he insane? There were people around and his little caveman act could be on YouTube in seconds.

"Chrissss," I hissed under my breath, glaring a warning at him over my shoulder. He ignored it, his fierce gaze locked on mostly naked Kane who smirked back at him. I wanted to tell him that by reacting he would only be encouraging Patrick but I pressed my lips shut, deciding to let Chris find out for himself.

"Did she tell you how I totally rocked her world after the skills?" Patrick asked, miming holding a woman's hips and fucking her from behind. I heard a feral growl start in Chris's throat behind me.

"In your dreams," I sighed and shook my head at Pat who grinned like a jack o lantern over my shoulder at Chris. I didn't need to turn to know that Higgy would be wearing an unhappy expression. I could feel his desire to rip Kane limb from limb coming off him in waves. "It didn't happen Chris," I added more quietly.

"Oh wait, are you two really a thing?" Kane asked, stopping mid motion, his mischievous grin growing by degrees, looking first at me and then over at Chris. "Like a…," he mimed swatting a woman's ass and then fucking her, "thing?"  Chris growled again.

This was not going to end well. I turned and grabbed Chris's upper arms, pushing him with all my might. I couldn't budge him.

"He's baiting you, you fucking idiot," I hissed. Chris continued to glare death rays towards the Hawks' diminutive forward. "Jeeezus you don't even care," I spat at him, putting both of my hands flat on Chris's chest and shoving him backwards with all my might. He barely rocked back on his heels. The shove didn't get his attention but he turned a quizzical stare down at me.

"What do you mean, I don't care?" he asked, looking sincerely puzzled.

"Okay, again, you hate what I do so by extension you hate me," I began, already bored by having to say it out loud, again.

"I said I don't hate you," he replied quietly, still staring at me like I was saying and doing something that mystified him.

"Whatever. You don't approve, blah blah blah. If you actually cared about me you wouldn't be running me down all the time. And by the way, I'd sincerely appreciate it if you didn't talk about me behind my back. It's immature and offen…."

I didn't get to finish my planned speech, the one I'd come storming down to the bowels of the arena to give. One minute I was about to lecture him and the next he had my head in his hands and his mouth was crushed against mine…again.

I was taken completely by surprise and just stood there like a statue, eyes open wide as he kissed me. Of course, in the next minute, my hands were in his hair and I was kissing him back, attempting to climb him like a jungle gym. I wanted to be pressed against him, all of him, and I wanted him to press me against the nearest flat surface but instead, he broke off the kiss and pushed me away from him, keeping me there, helpless, at arms' length.

"Enough of this shit. We're going on a date, tomorrow night," he told me a little breathlessly. His face was telegraphing his emotional state as a frown laced his brows together while a small smile tugged at his mouth. "Wear something pretty," he added, curling his index finger beneath my chin and gazing down into my face like I was an amusing but disobedient child. I opened my mouth to tell him hell to the no, but all that came out was:

"Okay."

There was an extra bounce in my step when I arrived at practice the next day with my venti mocha in one hand and a copy of the Province in the other. There was a piece about the Twins in it that I was looking forward to reading.

I passed by the player's lounge, like I usually did on the mornings I swung by to watch the guys, but as I was about to call out a greeting to the training staff a bottle of water whizzed by my face and collided with the wall. I stood blinking at it, which was the only thing that saved me from getting smoked in the kisser by the BlackBerry that followed seconds later.

"Son of a fucking cunt!" I glanced down at the pieces of black plastic littering the concrete floor and then toward the source, who had murder in his eyes. Ryan.

"Bad news?" I asked quietly, taking a few tentative steps into the room.

"Something like that, fuck…sorry, I didn't hit you did I?" I shook my head and smiled at the apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry, fuck," he muttered again, roughly running his hands through his unruly hair. There were only two things I could think of that could put the usually affable Super Kess in this kind of a mood; being injured or Andrea.

"What did she do now?" I asked quietly, depositing my drink and newspaper on the closest surface. Drawing him aside, I took one of his hands in both of mine and dug my thumbs into the palm, attempting to massage out the tension I could feel there.

"Is it that obvious?" he sighed and leaned his head against the cool concrete wall.

"Well you're not limping and I don't see any bandages so…yeah," I replied lightly, if hesitantly. His wife was still a touchy subject despite the fact that Ryan pretty much shared everything with me about their volatile relationship. I was still doing my best to keep some boundaries between us, though, of all of the players, I probably had the closest relationship with Kess.

"She wants another kid," he began, his gaze riveted to the work I was doing on his hand. The shock of his words made me falter for a moment but I continued a few seconds later. "She told me this morning that she's been flushing her pills and…I'm actually not sure that we're even going to stay together so..," he looked up at me and shrugged. I knew the rest. He didn't need to say it. Andrea had her tentacles into him and wasn't about to let go, despite her best efforts at chasing him away. It was a tug of war he was tired of being in, but she was his wife and the mother of his children; his totally adorable kids who were the light of his life.

"It could be a good thing," I heard myself say then shook my head, admitting the lie.

Ryan scoffed and narrowed his eyes at me. "You've never fed me any bullshit before, Pen. Now is not the time to start."

"I know, I'm sorry," I whispered and pressed my forehead to his shoulder. He was hurting and I hated it. I hated her right then even if I could understand that she was just trying to do whatever she felt she had to. "Maybe you need some space," I said, thinking that maybe Andrea needed to go spend some time with her parents, away from him and the team and, selfishly, me. Ryan's face lit up like a neon sign in Vegas.

"Space? Yes," he nodded enthusiastically. "I need space! I could stay with you for a few days. That's brilliant!" he grinned wickedly and then, using his other arm to pull me into a one armed bear hug, almost pressed the air from my lungs.

"I…I didn't..," I stuttered, trying to think of how I could get myself out of this. I'd just agreed to a date with Chris and now we'd have a chaperone. It wasn't exactly the most romantic idea ever. "That might be kind of…awkward," I suggested quietly.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Hey, it's not like I haven't seen and heard it all, hello, I've been on the road with these guys for like…ever. And if they want you to themselves for a while it's not like I can't leave," he pointed out, leaning in and pressing his lips to my cheek. "God, I so need some space. This is perfect!" I watch him walk away feeling a bit like I've been run over by a speeding train.

"It's a good thing I didn't plan on you making me dinner," a voice whispered soft and low in my ear seconds before I felt a hand at the small of my back. I closed my eyes and leaned back slightly, revelling in the warmth of his touch.

"It is, because I would have said no," I smiled to myself as he whistled.

"Hey, I had dinner with you once," he reminded me. I wrinkled my nose as I turned around to look up at him. Damn. I was starting to wonder if he had some sort of aversion to wearing shirts. Normally it wouldn't be an issue but…

"We picked up Chinese, and I don't remember you eating anything so that doesn't count," I point out to him and tucked my hands into my back pockets. The urge to run my fingers over the tattoo on his chest and down over his abs is too much. Not to mention how badly I wanted to lick at the drop of sweat barely clinging to his chin.

"Well we'll have to remedy that," he said softly and reached up to brush my hair back over my shoulder. His gaze lingered on my neck and my pulse began to race at the thought of his lips there, his teeth grazing over my skin.

"I thought that was the plan," I murmured, wondering if my panties were literally going to combust if he got any closer to me.

"Part of it anyway," he grinned, running his finger down my jaw line and tipping my face up towards his. I held my breath, waiting for him to kiss me right there in the hallway outside the players' lounge like he did the night before… but he just nudged the tip of my nose with his own and stepped back. "See you later," he said, a secretive smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I watched him walk, or more correctly, strut down the hall and had to lean on the wall for support. When my brain started functioning correctly again, there was only one thought in my mind playing on repeat;

Goddamn that man was sexy.

Chapter 11

Okay, this is hugely delayed and it's all my fault! To anyone who has been waiting for an update I'M SORRY! I owe you hugs. And candy. And unicorns! Cuz, well, unicorns are just awesome. Almost as awesome as the lady who pumped out the bulk of this. Mere, you're like... the shiniest unicorn ever. Wuv. 

And now, I'm going to watch the game. I refuse to cheer for the team I want to win out loud because every time I do that... something bad happens. So. I'm just gonna watch. 

Oh! and here's the chapter!

Heartbreak builds character. Or at least that's what I continually tried to tell myself after the Boston blow up. In the days following that fateful night, I resolved to turn things around, to get my head on straight even if my insides felt like a mess of jagged mismatched puzzle pieces.

While I would have liked to curl into the fetal position and lick my wounds without an audience, it was glaringly apparently that my actions strongly impacted the team's mood as well. The guys were great, really great, but I could see the concern in their eyes when they looked at me and the level of tension in the room skyrocketed whenever Higgy and I happened to be in it at the same time. That wasn't good. We were heading into the stretch drive and their focus needed to be on the ice, not on the emotional well being of their auxiliary employee. And really, I had to remember that. I was there to enhance their game, not to subtract from it.

So I while they tried to focus on what was happening on the ice I did my best to bring my A game off of it. I made the effort to laugh a little louder, smile a little brighter, and refused to let myself think outside of the moment at hand and it appeared to be working. The guys seemed to relax a bit, there was less anxiety all around, and we all got back into the groove of being ourselves again.

For the most part.

So what if, in those rare quiet moments when I was on my own, I spent the time waiting for one of them to need me, to ask me to do something, anything, just to keep from getting drawn under… to keep from having to listen to the voices in my head that were waiting for me, that were waiting to drag me under, to drown me in my own personal, private hell. I thought I was doing a great job. I didn't think anyone could tell what was really going on.

 "Of course we can tell," Kess scoffed, peeling his t-shirt off and leaning over the tub in my master bathroom to test the water temperature, "you're not that good of an actor, Sugar." I rolled my eyes and swung my legs back and forth, perched on the marble counter next to the sink.

"This from Captain Dive." He fixed me with a glare over his shoulder and I stuck out my tongue.

"The point is, you're not actually fooling anyone." Ryan was the only person I was completely honest with and that was largely related to his history with the last girl in my position. If anyone could relate to the situation, it was him.

"Lou thinks I'm fine. Cory thinks I'm fine. Cody thinks I'm awesome."

"Um, two of them are goalies," he waved a hand in dismissal as he looked around for a familiar bottle, "and Cody still sleeps in Superman pajamas. Where is...?"

 "Under the sink," I chewed the inside of my cheek and watched him dig out the vanilla scented bubble bath he had developed an appreciation for the last time we did this. "None of them have said anything otherwise. And it's not like it matters anyway. In the grand scheme of things, how I'm feeling doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does," he frowned.

 "It shouldn't."

"But it does. Of course it fucking does!" he snapped, tossing bottle onto the counter beside me. "You know, I don't understand how you could spend as much time with us as you do, as intimately as you do, learn all our habits as well has you have and still not fucking get it! Jesus, Penny." Well he didn't have to yell about it. Seriously, the last thing I needed was to have him mad at me too.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, dropping my head. I heard him swear again and the deep measured breath he took before crossing the floor to nudge his hips between my knees.

"Look at me." Stubbornly I kept my gaze on my lap and he sighed, placing his palms on either side of my legs, caging me in. "I know how much you care about us. We all know. And you need to remember that it goes both ways. How we feel about you goes so much deeper than sex, okay? No one wants to see you hurting. And no, no one is going to say anything about it because they can't." He shifted and rubbed his hands along my arms. "Kev is beside himself, he doesn't know what to do. Burr has become your fucking shadow when you're out with us, and if I have to hear any more of his lame attempts to make you laugh I'm going to punch him in the sack." That brought a smile to my lips because I had noticed that Alex had turned into a truly pathetic stand-up comic lately.

"He's not that bad."

"Knock knock jokes aren't any funnier in French than they are in English." I snorted, which made him smile but my smile faded at the edges. The fact was, my act wasn't as good as I'd originally thought and that was a problem.

"I guess I should try harder then."

 "Or," he said, "you should just focus on the fact that even though Chris has his head up his ass, the rest of us love you. And we want you to be okay. Okay?" I nodded and felt him kiss the top of my head before he stepped away to strip his jeans down his muscular legs. "Of course, it wouldn't hurt if you did make more of an effort to eat once in a while."

"What?" My head shot up. "I eat."

"Uh huh, right," he replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm as his gaze settled on me with a single, sardonically raised eyebrow.

"I do!" I insisted as I hopped off the counter and faced him. He gripped the hem of my sweatshirt.

"Up." Obediently I lifted my arms. "When was the last time you had a full meal?"

"This morning," I told him. "Jannik came by with muffins and took control of my coffee machine." He reached back and unhooked my bra one handed.

"I'm not even going to get into the fact that muffins are not an actual meal. What about before this morning?"

"I had waffles yesterday morning," I crowed. Waffles were so totally a meal; especially when they were paired with fresh orange juice and topped with strawberries. I'd been quite surprised that Jannik had the skills to pull off such detailed… oh. Kes smirked at me, knowing things were coming together in my head.

"And before that?" Fuck.

"Hank took me out to lunch." It had been a huge lunch that took me forever to get through since I hadn't done more than pick at it in small bites. He reached over and shut off the taps then motioned for me to take my pants off.

"Hank is two seconds away from either moving you into his house or packing a bag to stay here and inserting a feeding tube."

"Oh my God," I rolled my eyes and accepted his hand for assistance to step into the fragrant hot water. "I'm not that bad."

 "Maybe not yet, but you get that we're worried, right?" His grin turned lecherous as he sat down and wrapped his big hands around my hips before I could sink beneath the suds. "And we all have a vested interest in your curves."

"Pervert." He chuckled and guided me down for a kiss. "You love me." Yeah. I did. __________________________________________________________________________________________

"It's like a mini holiday," Danny assured me as we waited for Hank to sign us in.

"A working holiday," Eddie mumbled, staring down at his feet. There was a pair of young girls giggling behind their iPhones and taking pictures of us. Rat Face…I mean, Eddie's girlfriend Amanda had been decidedly unhappy when she was cordially un-invited on the weekend getaway. She'd gone nuclear when she found out that I was going with the three Swedes. Any pictures of us together would only throw gasoline on the fire while we were gone and Eddie knew it.

"But we still have a job to do, right?" Hank reminded all of us as he rejoined our group and picked up his bag. It was strange to see them carrying their equipment bags. Usually that was taken care of by the equipment managers but there were no equipment managers this weekend. At least not until we go to the rink. "We're representing our team," our captain reminded us gravely. "That means all of us," he added looking right at me. I beamed back at him. I was excited to be invited along, excited to see some of the other players in a situation that wasn't so game day serious.

"Aye Aye Captain," I clicked my heels together and saluted, which never failed to make Henrik laugh. "I mean it," he said, his blue eyes twinkling, "I don't want you to forget whose side you're on," he added with a wink. I felt my stomach churn in anticipation. Eddie looked at me and then at the twins and back to me with a puzzled look on his face.

 "I won't," I promised, slipping one arm around Danny's waist and one around Hank's. "I'm a very loyal girl," I added, giving Hank a hip bump.

"Is someone going to explain what's going on?" Eddie asked, frowning.

"After we settle in, remember to give me one of the swipe cards for your room," Hank told him and then steered us all towards the elevator.

_____________________________________________________________________________


 I changed literally ten times, standing in front of the long mirror in the hallway of the room I was temporarily sharing with the twins, analyzing each outfit with a critical eye. It was one thing to dress for my boys, as I'd come to think of them, but it was quite another thing to dress for a complete stranger.

"Do you think the garter belt is too much?" I asked, turning sideways so that I could see the top of the stockings where they attached to thin black belt through the high slit in the narrow black skirt.

"I like it," Danny smiled over top of the magazine he was reading as he sat up against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed.

 "You need a different belt, something wider will give you more…definition," Hank suggested. I looked down at the thin, black patent belt with the small gold buckle and frowned.

"Oh god, not you too!" I complained, turning to face the room and staring down the brothers. Danny became engrossed in his magazine and Hank turned to stare at the curling match he was watching on the TV. "Oh my god…I eat! I ate on the plane" I exclaimed turning back to the mirror. I turned sideways and ran my hand down over my stomach.

"We understand," Danny offered like an olive branch.

"Yeah," Hank agreed, suddenly appearing behind me and pressing a tender kiss to cheek while he slid his bigger hands down over mine. "It's just that we all kind of all liked you a little…softer." I felt a lump gather in my throat despite the sweet sincerity in his tone. I was nervous enough about tonight and insecure enough naturally without adding worrying about my weight too.

 "I'll help you pick some girl off the street. I can't do this," I muttered, trying to back up but the Canucks' captain was behind me like a solid wall of steel.

"You'll be the prettiest girl there," he assured me. I rolled my eyes but I didn't disagree with him. It was nice to hear, even if I didn't believe it. It was kind of like having your dad tell you that; you knew he had to say it because it was his job to but it still felt good.

"Oh god…what if I get picked by...," I shuddered as the taste of bile rose in my throat, "Chara or Thomas?" I heard Danny laugh behind us and peered around Hank's sizeable form to see why.

"We have an agreement," he replied with a shrug and then looked at his brother. Hank nodded and pressed another kiss to my cheek. "We won't get theirs, they won't get ours. Everyone else will get to pick though," he added softly, reticently, as if he expected me to react like I had when he'd first explained what would happen tonight.

The All-Star Fantasy Draft was one thing. Behind closed doors, the All-Star Fantasy Draft was something else entirely. Every team was represented by their Specialist who was offered up as a trade for an evening of… entertainment… with a player from a different team. I could appreciate Hank being careful while facing me now. I might have gone a little off the deep end when I had learned the details of how I would be spending my so-called "break". If I'd thought to reach down I would have checked to see if he was wearing a cup. I hadn't done any actual damage to the poor guy but I had been very, very angry. Though once I had calmed down and had some time to absorb the idea, my anger shifted into curiosity. Then it became interest. And now I could admit that beneath the sheen of anxiety, I was more than a little excited.

"It's too bad Sidney's injured," I grinned up at him and was rewarded with a broad smile that made Hank's sky blue eyes crinkle at the corners.

 "Not everyone," Eddie interjected, reappearing from the bathroom where he'd been trying to straighten his tie on his own. I sighed and reached out to loosen the knot. "There are only thirty Specialists and…how many players here?" I looked back at Hank, who, in turn looked back at Danny who merely shrugged.

"Yeah the rookies don't get their names thrown in," Danny agreed. Eddie heaved a sigh. Reaching up I cupped his cheek with my hand and gave it a pat.

"I'll make sure you get some special attention later Eddie." He turned his head so he could press a kiss to the palm of my hand.

"I'll hold you to that," he whispered in his soft, lyrical accent. I grinned up at him and a smile finally appeared on his face.

"Shall we go?" Hank asked, appearing at my side with the wider belt he'd suggested earlier held out towards me in one hand, his sleek, finely tailored jacket in the other.

"Yeah, just give me two ticks," I replied, taking the belt and hastening into the bathroom to brush my teeth and double check my makeup. _______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Is that what you're wearing?" 

We were lined up like cows waiting to go into an abattoir and I had been so busy listening to the sound of my blood pulsing wildly through my veins and Daniel Alfredsson explaining the rules that I hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to the other women lined up with me. I peered into the almost complete darkness at the blonde in front of me. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"That get up, the sexy lawyer thing, was that your choice or your captain's?" I looked down at the nearly transparent white blouse I was wearing that peeked out of the slate grey blazer that flared just a little over my hips and the slightly fuller legged matching trousers that went right down and almost but didn't quite hide the very high spike heeled black pointed toed shoes Hank had chosen and shrugged. 

"Both, I guess," I replied truthfully. My original skirt idea had been nixed at the last possible second when Hank spied the shoes in my suitcase. He was almost as bad a Lou when it came to shoes. Blondie aimed a very patronizing smile at me and then tossed her over teased and over sprayed hair over her shoulder. It moved like a cloud of spun sugar. 

"I guess you didn't get the memo," she added with a smug look down at the jersey she was wearing; a Bruins jersey that was artfully torn at the neck so that it dropped over her bare shoulder. It didn't look like she was wearing much else, aside from the pair of thigh high black patent leather platform boots. I glanced behind me at the Specialist from San Jose. She was wearing a light cocktail dress in a light blues and greys; Sharks colours. 

"Don't worry," the Bruins Specialist smirked, "maybe Quick will pick you and then you won't stand out like such a sore thumb." I had the overwhelming urge to pull her hair and maybe stomp on her face but just as I nearly raised my hand to grab a hold of her too blonde extensions we were all called out onto the stage.

The lights in the hall were dazzling, at first, and I had to shade my eyes to look into the auditorium and see all of the players in their expensive suits sitting in the audience, looking over the group like we were a bunch of prize heifers at a 4-H auction. This was the part I'd balked at the most when Hank and Danny had told me about tonight's festivities. I'd had visions of wet t-shirt contests and bikini mud wrestling until Hank had promised me that this would be handled in a far classier manner. Too bad Patrick Kane's wolf whistling and Scott Hartnell waggling his tongue at us brought down the tone immediately

"So everyone knows the rules, each of the players will choose a team card from the bowl and that will be the lady he escorts for the evening. Good luck gentleman." 

A buzz went up from the audience and the sense of being an object disappeared. I rolled my shoulders back, tilted my chin up and felt a rush of adrenalin at the idea of not knowing whose hands were going to be sliding over my skin tonight. Funny how just a little dose of competitive juices flowing through your veins could erase all signs of fear.

I barely registered when the first two picks were made. I watched the Specialist for the Caps giggle as she linked arms with Scotty Hartnell and I barely registered the LA Specialist in her black skintight leather pants and white crop top slither across the stage much to the delight of Patrick Kane. I only really focused in on what was going on as I watched Hank make his way up the stairs to the stage. 

"He's so mine." I blinked and then turned to stare at the Bruins specialist. She was looking more than just a little pleased with herself.

"What are you talking about? There's a deal…," I began only to watch her smirk grow into a full grown malevolent sneer. 

"Silly bitch, don't you know deals are meant to be broken?" she purred and then batted her long, fake eyelashes at me. "Oh and be sure to say hi to RyRy for me when you're next sucking his cock," she added, making a show of licking her lips and tossing her ridiculous hair. 

"You?" I gaped at her, like a kid walking in on her parents doing it. I shook my head. I couldn't envision him…with her. Though his aggression during (and after) the Boston game made more sense than ever now.

"Oh please. Are you trying to tell me he doesn't talk about me all the time?" She grinned at me like she was certain of the answer. I grinned back at her, glad to crush her ego. 

"No, never actually," I smiled and batted my eyelashes back at her, enjoying watching her self-satisfied grin implode. 

Hank also didn't choose her. He actually pulled a blank card, as did Danny and the next five players. The next player up, however, sent a buzz down the line of girls, every last one of whom was hoping her card would be the one he pulled. Every single set of eyes focused on his hand as it dipped into the bowl. A sigh rose up when his other hand pushed his hair back out of his eyes.

He looked down at the card in his hand and a slow, drop dead sexy smile spread across his face before he looked up and he straight down the line directly at me. 

"Have fun," the girl from San Jose beside me reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. 

"Oh I will," I whispered, staring at him all the while as I headed for the hand he held outstretched towards me.

"I was hoping it would be your key," he whispered into my ear in his sexy soft accent as we stood at the back of the elevator. My eyes were glued to the little numbers lighting up over our heads, counting down the floors until the doors would open and I'd be leading him to my room.

"I think all the girls were hoping it would be theirs," I told him truthfully, watching as he ran his hand through his hair every time it fell into his dark eyes. He looked across at me and smiled but not in a way that suggested he knew that he was the hottest guy in the room, but in a way that made me feel as if he had won the prize and not me. 

"I've heard a lot about you," he added with an appreciative glance towards my cleavage. I frowned. The league hadn't quite reached the trade deadline and the only trade to the team so far had been Grizz. I didn't remember his ever mentioning that he knew the Penguin's dark haired defenseman. "Lappy," he explained with a slow seductive smile, bringing our joined hands up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand. 

"Oh…oh!" I felt my cheeks get hot as he watched me with his dark depthless eyes. There were only so many things that Max could have said about me, considering most of the interactions I had with him, though always fun, were of the knocking boots variety. He didn't get to expand on what he knew, as the doors opened to reveal a group of the rookies waiting to get in, staring at us with a mixture of longing and jealousy. The fact that they could be standing in Kris' shoes next year was written all over their faces.

Kris nodded to them then led me out of the elevator and down the hall. I felt my heart start to race like it had that first night with Kess and I wondered if he could feel it in the way I was holding onto him like he was the ledge and I was trying not to slide off. 

He handed me the key card and with a shaking hand I slid it down the reader, watching with baited breath for each light to turn green. I felt his free hand creep up to the nape of my neck, his fingers digging into the knot there and I sent out a silent thank you to Lappy for passing on that particular piece of information.

As I pushed the handle down and the door clicked open his hand slid down to the small of my back and like a gentleman he guided me into the suite. When I reached to flick on the lights his free hand flattened mine to the wall and with the full weight of his body he pressed me to the wall. 

"I hear you like it a little rough," he whispered hoarsely into my ear as the hand that had been on the small of my back slid around and up beneath my jacket to cup my breast. 

"Sometimes," I replied breathlessly, my heart racing for an entirely different reason. I could feel his thumb working at my nipple, flicking it to life and I had to bite down on my bottom lip to stifle a groan. 

"I heard you like it hard and fast," he added, pressing his burgeoning erection against the top of my backside. I closed my eyes and smiled at images of him moving above me, all that silken dark hair falling around his handsome face as he drove me into the headboard. 

"Yessss," I replied in a gasp as he pinched my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger through the fabric of the blouse I was wearing. Using his body to keep me pressed to the wall he let go of my other hand and slid his down the front of my body until he found the snap on the my pants which he deftly opened. I clenched my teeth together as his fingers continued further, delving into my already slick folds. 

"I also heard you like it really slow," he whispered, his mouth brushing softly over my jumping pulse.

"S..s…sometimes," I managed, just barely, as he pressed the tips of two fingers over my clit and began to move them in firm, slow circles. 

"I'm going to fuck you hard and fast," he promised, rubbing his now very hard - and by the feel of it - very large erection against my ass, "and then, ma chèrie, I am going fuck you slow and make you scream my name, d'accord?" I whimpered and managed to nod. "Parfait, I am glad we are in agreement. Now let's get you out of this…," he growled into my neck and I shuddered. "By the way, this outfit…très chic. Very…classy. I like it," he added and then bit down on my neck. 

"Ohhhhh gggooodddd," I moaned, pressing my forehead to the wall, a wide, happy grin on my face.

"Your team is very lucky," he mused, brushing the hair that was stuck in the sweat on my cheek back and then cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand.

"Uh-huh," was all the answer I could manage, grinning up at him. I felt like every bone in my body had been turned into liquid. I couldn't even raise a hand to run my fingers through his long, dark hair. It was still perfect as if he hadn't exerted himself in the least. 

"Especially one guy…or that's what I hear," he added with a bemused expression.

I frowned. "I don't do favoritism," I blurted out defensively and then immediately wanted to take it back. I guess I did, sort of, with Kess and Juice but…that was two guys. 

"Sorry, I guess what I should have said," he grinned, rolling onto his back and stacked both arms behind his head so his perfectly formed chest was on display and his biceps bulged, "was that one guy in particular has a thing for you." I blinked at the ceiling and then rolled over so that I was looking down into the Pens' defenseman's handsome face. 

"Who?" I asked, going through the roster in my head. If anyone it was probably Tanev. I'd been teasing him pretty relentlessly. But then again it could have been Cody….

"No, that would be telling and what happens on the ice…," he smiled up at me and then yawned and closed his eyes. 

"Oh no you don't," I snarled and climbed over him, straddling his hips with only a thin sheet twisted between us. "You can't just say something like that and then not tell me," I added, flexing my fingers right above his chest, the deep blood red nail polish on my fingernails catching the half light looking as menacing as I'd hoped they would next to his lily white, unmarked skin. 

"Why does it matter?" he asked, running his hands up my thighs. "You can't get involved with anyone anyway." I blinked down at him. He was right, of course, but I wanted to know anyway. I wanted to know because he seemed to know Max and the guy who hung around with Max the most was….

"Chris?" I asked, his name catching in the back of my throat. I knew it. I mean he'd told me himself at Christmas time but since then everything had gone so wrong and he seemed to hate me but if he'd said something to Max…. "Well?" I said, grabbing his hands and pinning them to the mattress on either side of his Kris's head. "Is it?" 

"You like him," Kris smirked up at me, his sexy dark eyes glinting in the moonlight. He tilted his head to one side and regarded me with an amused but sympathetic look. "Is it true he won't have sex with you?" I growled, let go of him and rolled away, putting my back to the sexy Frenchman. 

"Yes," I replied curtly, staring at the wall and inwardly cursing Higgy, his adorable grin and his big blue eyes. I felt Kris curl his bigger body around mine and dig his chin into my shoulder. 

"If I may say, il est un imbecile. I am going to be bragging to everyone at the skills tomorrow how amazing you are," he whispered in my ear and then pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder. "Vous êtes très belle, verrrrry sexy," he added, rolling his r's which he'd also done when he'd been going down on me and it send a shiver straight down my spine making my girl bits clench deliciously. "And that thing you do with your tongue, mon dieu," he added with a chuckle. 

"He thinks I'm a slut," I whispered into the darkness surrounding us. Kris squeezed me like an anaconda and made an unhappy sound deep in his throat. 

"Not all women can be satisfied by one man," he said with a sigh, "but unless he shares…how will he know?" It was a question that had been running through my mind since the first fight we'd had in Kess's driveway. 

"How do I get him to do that when he won't even touch me?" I asked quietly, that leaden puck I always felt in the pit of my stomach every time I thought about Chris felt larger and heavier than usual. 

"My advice would be to get naked and be waiting in his bed," he chuckled, his hand moving up from around my waist to cup one of my breasts. "Je pense que vous êtes irresistible," he added, biting playfully at my shoulder, "even if Lappy said you were a little softer than you are." 

"Holy fuck! Not you too." I all but threw my arms in the air. "Fine, order some fucking room service!" 

"So, did you enjoy your night off?" 

I looked up from fruit cup, in which I was trying to dig around the cantaloupe for the strawberries and grapes and found Holly sitting across the table from me, a mug of something hot held in both of her hands.

"Night off?" I asked, stabbing a red grape and lifting it to my mouth. Holly grinned briefly and then put her mug down glancing toward the table where Kris was currently sitting with Steven Stamkos from Tampa and his Pen's teammate Neal who had made the cut since Ovechkin was serving a suspension. "I think I got about an hour's sleep, but if you call that a night off, then…" I thought about my answer for a moment and smiled, "it was a nice distraction." My response seemed to satisfy her and Holly sat back in her seat and picked up her mug again, regarding me over it with her head tilted to the side. 

"I'm glad. When I saw you checking in yesterday you looked…tired." I did my best not to roll my eyes. It seemed as though suddenly everyone had turned into my mother. 

"I'm fine," I replied as brightly as I could, reaching for the little metal teapot and raising the lid to check on the status of my brewed tea. I prefer it strong enough to stand a spoon in it. 

"Getting along with everyone?" I pulled on the string of the tea bag, swirling it around in the hot water as I carefully considered my next reply. I could tell, just by her tone, that she wasn't just asking the question to fill dead air. 

"No one can please everyone all the time," I replied honestly while being intentionally vague at the same time. I put the top down on the teapot and tipped the steaming and fragrant liquid into my cup. 

"So the scuttlebutt I'm hearing about Chris Higgins…?" she made it a question, her voice rising at the end. I knew if I looked up at her that her eyebrows would be raised and she'd be watching me expectantly but I had to keep my head down. I knew if I looked up she'd be able to read everything from my expression alone and I silently cursed my parents for giving me such an honest face. 

"Chris just…he doesn't agree with what I do," I shrugged, reaching for a packet of Sweet and Low taking my time tearing it open and shaking it into my tea. She was silent for a long moment while I deliberately took my time stirring the sweetener into my mug and I knew she was waiting for me to say more. I racked my brain for something else to say that wouldn't be incriminating but all I could think of, especially after what Kris had told me, were questions like `how do I get him to accept me?' and `is it okay if I'm more than in a little in love with one of the players?'. 

"So…there's nothing going on with the two of you?" My head snapped up and my gaze met hers before I'd had a chance to remind myself to keep my head down. Juice was right; hockey players really were as bad as high school girls. 

"No!" Maybe it was too emphatic an answer but her eyebrows both went up and her lips curled into the kind of smile that said that she thought I was protesting too quickly and too loudly. So I repeated my answer more quietly, in a more controlled tone and then took a sip of the still too hot tea. It scalded the roof of my mouth. 

"Well you know if you're forming a special kind of attachment to one player it adversely effects the relationship you have with the other players on the team," she reminded me carefully, watching me over the rim of her coffee cup with eyes that felt like they were boring into my sole with a diamond head drill bit.

"My relationship with everyone is just fine," I reiterated and then grinned, baring my teeth at her like a feral dog on the street protecting a scrap stolen from a dumpster. I dropped my eyes back down into my tea as if I expected to find some mind-blowing revelation in the bottom of the mug. I couldn't trust myself to hold her gaze. Anytime I started thinking about Chris and his big blue eyes I ended up blushing like a virgin on prom night. Kess, Juice, hell even Lappy had enjoyed pointing that fact out to me. 

"Are you still enjoying your job?" `Enjoying', I had to think about the word for a moment, several definitions running through my brain until, finally, I nodded. 

"I love it," I told her honestly, eventually looking up to meet her appraising and shrewd stare and immediately wondered if I've picked the wrong word as her eyes narrowed. "Y'know, the guys are fun and we all get along and I am really enjoying all the perks." Sitting back she tapped the outside of her mug with her fingernails and watched me do my best not to squirm. 

"Everyone gets along?" she asked and I rolled my eyes. 

"Yes, everyone," I insisted, putting my tea down. My palms felt sweaty. "Even if he doesn't approve of what I do and even if he won't take advantage of all of the services I can offer, we do get along." She pursed her lips in a thoughtful kind of way and I felt like she was waiting for me to break so I stared back at her, careful now, not to so much as blink. 

"So if I asked…every one would be happy?" I took in a sharp breath and picked up my tea again. 

"Yes," I replied, feeling almost a hundred per cent confident about my answer. "Except maybe the rookie," I amended with a grin partly because it was probably true and partly to allow my face some kind of expression other than deer caught in the headlights. 

"Well…that's the thing about being a rookie, you have to wait your turn," she grinned at me in that kind of big sister way that I was more used to. Quietly I released a breath I hadn't realized that I'd been holding.

"Plus it's just so much fun to tease them. They go such divine shades of pink," 

With that I couldn't help but agree. 

"Whazzup?" The expression on his face reminded me immediately of Joey on Friends. I waited, expecting him to say `how you doin'?' but he just gave me the look instead. 

"Mr. Price," I nodded and turned back to continue to tease Eddie. He hadn't got the special attention I'd promised him and he was feeling a little left out. I was currently preventing him from getting his jersey on because I was having too much fun playing with the laces on his hockey pants. 

"So is it true what they say about her? Is she a complete wild child?" Eddie frowned and looked down at me and then over my shoulder at where Price had taken up residence. Almost all of the guys had changed already. Carey was still in his black jeans, matching muscle shirt and cowboy hat. I was guessing it was an outfit that worked with a certain percentage of the female public but to me it just looked like a costume; maybe a Chippendale's costume but still a costume. 

"You'll never know," Eddie said quietly, his blue eyes steely cold. A shudder of pleasure ran up my spine as he laid a protective and yes, even possessive hand on the small of my back. 

"Well now, that's not strictly true," Price replied, taking his hat off, laying it beside him on the bench and running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Lappy, for one, tells me she's a screamer." The corner of Eddie's jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed. The fact that the Canucks only played the Habs once every other year was the only reason that Montreal's goalie didn't realize that he was about thirty seconds away from a body check that would have him waking up in about a week. I put my hand flat in the middle of his chest. Eddie looked down at it and then covered it with his other hand. I beamed up at him. Whatever anyone said now wouldn't matter. "Of course whenever Higgy gets a piece of her poon tang I'll get the lowdown on that too." 

A low, menacing growl erupted from the usually quiet and gentle defenceman. I stared up at him waiting for his attention to return to me. He hesitated, glaring dangerously at the other man, then glanced down at me and his nostrils flared when I shook my head, warning him against whatever he had in mind.

"Please," he said in a voice that barely escaped his clenched teeth, "just one." A fight erupting in the room at the All Star game was definitely not something the league wanted, unless of course it was maybe between Malkin and Hartnell. I shook my head again. So many of the guys in the league hated my boys already, I didn't want them to have any other grounds. Not that I believed they really had a good reason to hate them now.

"Let it go," I whispered. I wanted to add that if he wanted to punch Chris in the face for me when we got home I wouldn't object but I wasn't about to air our dirty laundry in public. It was bad enough there was any kind of conjecture about us already. 

"So what is the deal with you two anyway?" Price asked, ignoring the daggers Eddie's gaze was sending his direction. I glanced over my shoulder and watched the Habs' goalie pull his t-shirt off. He flexed his guns. Ha. Nothing of the display he was trying to make was much to write home about. All of the guys on my team looked better than that fully dressed. "You waitin' for him to beg or what?" 

"Yeah that's it," I replied caustically. He smirked like he thought it was funny. "The fact that he's crying on your shoulder about it tells me that we're getting there," I added, making a note to myself to have a word with dear Higgy when we got home. 

"I don't think Higgs has ever begged for it in his life," Carey smirked, unsnapping the top button on his jeans and shoving them down over his hips. I looked away. It was one thing seeing my boys get out of their gear. I felt strangely uncomfortable with a stranger getting naked near me. "In fact, I bet he's in Honolulu right now dipping his wick in some hula babe." I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes against the vision that came immediately to mind, Chris pouring himself over some tanned beach beauty. 

"Good for him," I said hoarsely and then went up on tiptoe to press a kiss to Eddie's lips. "I'll see you after the skills. Go get `em Tiger." 

I could feel more sets of eyes than just Eddie and Carey's on my back as I practically ran out of the room but I didn't turn around and blow a kiss or anything that might have suggested I was un phased. I was plenty phased and I needed to be somewhere that didn't smell like hockey gear and that didn't remind me of someone I was supposed to be getting out of my mind.