Mike seethes the rest of the weekend. He ignores his phone, stomps around his loft, and forces himself to eat if only to keep himself busy. He feels like a fool, an idiot, but he should have known better. A girl that amazing and beautiful and nice doesn’t come without some magical baggage that makes its presence known at the worse possible moment.

She’d looked so exhausted in the dim light of the bar but her face had lit up when she’d glanced back at that guy. She’d called him Rich and she’s smiled at him after seeing Mike. How fucked is that? He’d come home and gotten black-out drunk, regretting the decision greatly on Sunday and just stewing for most of the day.

By Monday he’s still angry, packing his gear harshly into his bag for practice. He keeps telling himself that it didn’t mean anything anyway. Three days. That’s all they’d really had. It means next to nothing, actually, because- fuck he doesn’t know.

It did matter. It does matter. She fills his head up with confusion and desire and anger and memories of sweet smiles. He finally turns his phone back on before he leaves, intending to send a quick text to Nicky. The final round of the Cup had been last night; Mike didn’t even bother to watch and he certainly hadn’t called afterwards. He’s sort of a dick friend for that so when Nicky calls him as soon as he’s sent the text, Mike answers.

“Hey Nicky. How’s it going?” He drops his bag and leans against the wall in his front entryway.

“Well. We won last night but Russia won overall. Ovie will not be letting me hear the end of that I’m sure.” Nicky laughs a little; his words are crackling up over the line. “You didn’t text me last night. Is everything was okay?” The guy is a mind reader. And also his best friend.

“I’m sorry, man. It’s been a rough couple of days.” Mike doesn’t mention Dell, even though he’d told Nicky about her after she’d stayed over. “Just missing everyone, ya know. I went to bed early anyway.” He usually doesn’t flat out lie to Nicky but he knows what the Swede will say. There’d be some consoling and then some questions followed by some cautionary advice.

“Talk to me about the game! How’d you do?” If Nicky notices Mike changing the topic, he doesn’t let it show. He chats away about the game, four to nothing but Nicky only had one assist, and then talks about the trip back to Moscow. He’s in his rented apartment now, just puttering around. Moscow, described through Nicky, sounds cold and snowy and fascinating. Nicky has an interesting way with his English of making everything seem more vivid than it really is. He’s learned too many big words.

“So did you see your Dell again? You were very pleased on Friday.”

Mike closes his eyes and lets his head bang against the wall. Nicky would’ve asked, no matter what. “No, not really. She’s got stuff to do, I guess. We’re not really talking.” He hates how bitter he sounds. He’d gotten his emotional shit together over the summer and he’s learned to deal with bad feelings. But this all came so quick that he’s drowning again, right back where he was after his injury last season.

“I’m sorry Mike. You really like her. I hope its nothing too serious?”

Mike stares over at his kitchen, frowning at the spaces Dell had seemed to fill so easily that seem impossibly empty now. Everything seems so hopeless right now, and so very frustrating. Mike hadn’t intended to burden Nicky with his problems but as it usually happens, he can’t keep his mouth shut around his best friend. It all comes tumbling out: the night at the bar and the subsequent shut-in act he’s been pulling.

At the end of his rant, Nicky is quiet for a very long time. Mike knows it’s mostly because Nicky likes to think his English through, make sure he has all his thoughts correct. “School is difficult, Mike, and time consuming. Dell is working on her doctorate?”

Mike nods, uselessly because Nicky can’t see him. “Yeah. Second year, I think I heard her mention.”

“What she is writing, it is very important. If I remember correctly a doctorate student must submit a book length piece of work.”

The problem is, Mike can’t remember if she’d said if she had writing for a book or a paper. He feels like he’s splitting hairs but this could be big. “What does it matter? She blew me off to go out with another guy.”

When Nicky grunts he sounds disapproving. Very much so. “You are sure they were on a date?” He pronounces date as though it has immense significance. Maybe it does.

“No, not really, but I’ve been on dates. Seriously. Small, cozy table. Drinks. Talking. Feelings, that kind of stuff.” For some reason Mike feels like he’s a teenager again but really, that’s what dates are like.

“Oh, Mikey. I think you might be an idiot.”

“Well, thanks friend.” Mike laughs bitterly.

Nicky tries to back track for just a second but gives up, going full steam instead. “No. Really. You really like this woman and she seems very nice. Why would you assume things? It is not like you, not any more, to act like this. I don’t understand.”

Mike doesn’t understand either and he can’t even begin to explain this to Nicky. He doesn’t even bother to try.

“You should apologize.”

“Why!? I didn’t do anything wrong.” When Nicky groans, yet again, in an incredibly condescending manner Mike has to maybe reconsider his earlier actions.

“Mike. Apologize. You might feel better after. That is a good thing, by the way. I do not want you to be sad when I come visit.”

Ummmm, yeah, Mike thinks. He definitely forgot Nicky was going to come visit with all this other shit going on. “Remind me when you’ll be in again?”

Nicky laughs and Mike feels the sound like a punch to his gut. He misses his friends so much. “This week. Thursday, remember?”

The thought makes Mike smile. He forgot, like a boss. “Oh yeah, for sure. Do you still need a lift from the airport?” Nicky hums his affirmation and Mike is so glad he’ll get some time with Nicky before the holiday insanity.

The conversation with Nicky lifts him through the rest of the afternoon, even after practice kicks his ass again. He’s almost hoping that the lockout doesn’t end in the next week. He needs recovery time. Needs to get his head back on straight and he thinks step one is going to be apologizing, just like Nicky had insisted. He should just call her, get a legitimate explanation. A little voice in the back of his head pokes him and asks if she even owes him an explanation. If Nicky is right, she doesn’t. If he’s not, it’ll at least help him move on.

Calling would be a good step. So would just going over to see her. She may not answer her phone. She has called him five times since Saturday and sent one text. A cryptic one liner early Sunday morning that just read: Dick. That had been an unpleasant discovery.

Beagle hits him with a wad of tape and Mike glares up at him. “So the weirdest fucking thing happened after you ditched on Saturday.” Mike frowns. He doesn’t like where this might be headed. “So, that check that I pointed out, the one that was giving me the total sex eyes? She ran off right after you did and then came back fifteen minutes later shaking and all frowning. So I get curious and I go over to the table she’s at with that weird dude. I’m all, ‘Hey, I noticed you were watching me. You all right?’ and she just glares. Like she wants me to die. And I’m thinking there must be something in the water because really, she should be honored that I’d care how she’s feeling, you know. I’m stone cold sex even with a wife, right?”

Mike has to clench his hands to keep from punching Beagle in his stupid face. He has no right to talk about Dell that way. Mike doesn’t analyze the fact that he’s still willing to go to blows over Dell’s honor.

Beagle either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because he goes on. “So she’s glaring at me and I say, ‘What’s wrong sweetheart?’ And before the guy even has a chance to defend her honor, she points a finger at me and says, ‘Don’t call me sweetheart.’ So I hold my hands up and tell her no worries and ask if I can buy her a drink, because I’m a nice guy like that. But she says nope, she’s seeing someone already.”

Mike watches Beagle pantomime the whole thing. His blood starts to boil again and Beagle shows no signs of slowing down.

“So I point at the guy with her and I laugh because, really, no girls would go for that guy even if they weren’t all that good looking. I mean, I pretty much only talked to this one because she was clearly upset. Anyway, so I point to the guy and the girl gets this look on her face like she’s disgusted. Clearly not, ya know. But rather than denying it she stands up and tells me to pass on a message.” Beagle leans closer to Mike, a sneaky grin on his face.

“A message for you.” Beagle’s eye brows waggle and mike continues his attempt at not punching him in the face. “She said to tell you that you’re a dick for making assumptions. And then she stormed off into the night. Weirdest fucking thing. Did you know that girl?”

Mike hangs his head and takes a deep breath. He really doesn’t know her. Not really. He’d been living in a three day bubble of joy and new relationship.

The question now is if he wants to fix this, to go talk to her for real. Or if he just writes this off.

Mike Green is not a quitter.

It’s easy enough to blow off Beagle and Johnnie and Chimes. He claims a head ache, not enough sleep, and drives out as soon as he can. His car winds through Arlington and crosses the Key Bridge into Georgetown without him ever really meaning to turn at any intersections.

Soon enough he’s standing outside her apartment building, asking what the hell he’s thinking. He’s thinking that he hates being angry and that he hates the fact that she lead him on, if that’s even what happened. If so, he needs some closure so he can get back to not playing hockey and being bored.

The door buzzes for him after he rings her bell without anyone asking who it is. He thinks that she must have someone else coming over and that makes him frown. He ignores the thought though. It’s not going to help him at all. Her door is answered by her roommate once more and Andrew raises his eyebrows at him.

“Um, hi. Is Dell-“

“DELL! Your DATE is here!” Andrew turns right back around. At least he’s wearing a shirt now. Mike lets himself in and stands awkwardly in the hall way because if Dell really is expecting a date then he’s about to be in the middle of a situation he absolutely wants nothing to do with.

“Did you say date?” Dell clears the corner and Mike sucks in a breath at the sight of her. She looks sloppy. But in an adorable, exhausted sort of way. She’s got on old sweats and a ratty shirt- when she turns to look at the door, at him, he shakes his head. The shirt is a familiar god-awful yellow with the Bruins logo on the front. Of course. She stares him down in the hallway and he notes that she’s got her hair back again and a pair of simple black glasses on.

She looks like she’s been tugging her hair for days. Her shoulders round when he doesn’t go anywhere and she leans against the wall. “You’re not the date I was expecting.”

Mike shrugs. “Sorry. Can we talk?” He’ll keep this simple. Figure out what was really going on, get over it, go home and watch some porn. Or something. He’ll need to. When she bites her bottom lip and looks down at the floor, he is flooded with memories of her beneath him.

She nods eventually, pushing back from the wall and retreating back the way she came. Mike follows her down the side hallway and into her room. She putters around for a few moments, picking up dirty clothes and clearing a spot off her bed. She’s got a little office set up that looks destroyed. The desk is covered with coffee mugs and empty chip bags. Her laptop is open, Word on the screen. He doesn’t wait for her permission. He takes the seat in front of her desk. The Word document reads 31 pages. 11,000 words. Roughly. His eyebrow hit his hairline and he looks back at her.

“Is this what you’ve written?” She’s hugging a pillow tight to her chest. He can’t tell if she looks insecure or just wary. “That’s a lot. Like, way more than I would have expected.”

“It’s one chapter for a book. And it’s almost done.” She sounds really damn relieved when she says that and Mike leans back in the chair, away from the screen. So she really was busy all weekend. Eleven thousand words in four days? He doesn’t even know how that’s possible. He feels like less of a fool and more of an ass now. “I’d really like to finish now so whatever you have to say . . . now would be the time.”

She’s definitely wary. Mike takes a deep breath. “I think I’ve realized that I was way out of line on Saturday.” Just saying it out loud makes him feel worse, but better. Worse because he’d been a dick to her but better that she wasn’t making dates with others after blowing him off. He’s usually not this possessive with girls and it sucks. A lot.

For her part, Dell just gives him a ‘fucking DUH’ look and readjusts her glasses. They make her look way more nerdy and he loves it. She certainly hasn’t become any less attractive. “Was that it?”

Was it? He has his closure, he thinks. He could walk away now and feel fine. But he won’t. “No. I’m sorry. Will you give me another chance?” He wouldn’t have been so pissed off if he wasn’t so invested already and he doesn’t think he’s ready to let that go. He knows he doesn’t want to let her go.

Dell sighs and throws the pillow behind her. Without her shield, the Bruins logo feels like a punch to his chest but he swallows and ignores it. “Are you like this all the time? If I say yes will you get on my ass every time I have school work? Will you question every guy that I spend time with who isn’t you? There’s a lot of them; most of my friends are guys. Do you even want that, now? What happens when the season starts and you’re gone all the time?”

His head spins. She’s been thinking about this a lot. Maybe more than him; more long term at any rate. “I don’t do guarantees in relationships but I can promise to try, I guess.”

She frowns. “Guessing isn’t good enough. I can’t do any sort of sexual relationship, period, if it gets in the way of school and my career. There’s thousands, thousands, of people in this country alone who would love my job or my position at Georgetown. One mistake and I lose everything. Everything, Mike.”

He thinks he might feel the full weight of the last few days for her on his shoulders. He should have thought, yeah. He shouldn’t have assumed. But, fuck. He had been so jealous. He really despises the feeling. He doesn’t have a whole lot of words so he stands up instead and walks over to bed. Kneeling in front of her he ignores the Bruins logo and takes her hands.

Mercifully, she lets him. “I won’t guess, then. I’ll know. I’ll do my very best. Who knows what’ll happen when the season starts but when it does, I’ll adjust. I’m pretty good at it. Been doing it for twenty years now.”

That doesn’t net him a laugh but it does get a smile and he beams up at her. She looks so so tired. He wants to drag her down into the soft look mattress she’s got and curl up for days. Dell leans her forehead down and takes a deep breath. “You’re pretty calm about all this. I’d be really pissed off if someone did this to me.” He’s going for light and teasing but what comes out is nervous and unsure.

She presses her cheek against his temple. He feels life in his limbs for the first time in days and it is thrilling. Her breath ruffles the hair there. “I knew why you were upset. And it made me angry, only because you weren’t taking the time to consider the angles. If you’d have just talked to Rich, or really talked to me, you wouldn’t have been worried.” He can feel her smile and he waits, not moving, for her to continue.

“I was so happy to see you at the bar. I’d actually forgotten-“ Dell trails off and Mike leans back so he can look up at her. Her eyes are fixed over his shoulder for long seconds until she shakes her attention back to him. “I’d forgotten how much I like looking at you.” Her grin is all cheek so Mike does what is right and just.

He kisses her.

It’s a quick peck that she returns for the brief contact. When he pulls back she’s still smiling which he takes as a good sign. She sobers though, bringing a hand up to his cheek. Her fingertips press through the scruff he’s got going on before they settle low on his jaw. “I like other things about you too. The saddest part was that I’d never get to make you laugh again. You have a nice laugh.”

He uses it then and is overjoyed when she giggles along with him. She is . . . something else. Out of this world. Women don’t just understand why he’s being an ass and roll with it. They give him flack and demand explanations but apparently not Dell. Not Adlai.

“I really am sorry. And I missed you. Everything about you. Seven hours in my place and you’ve ruined it forever.”

She doesn’t blush but she does smirk a bit when she says, “You make me want to stop sleeping with other guys.”

That’s . . . awkward and Mike frowns. “What?”

Dell sighs and brings her other hand up, cupping his cheeks. “There’s no way you haven’t seen Goon. No way. That’s the best hockey movie ever since Mystery, Alaska. Which, you know, doesn’t really disclude too many. Any, at all. But the point stands. It’s a good movie.”

Mike has seen it and he does remember the line now. He brushes another kiss against her mouth and tells her she’s got a pretty face. Dell doesn’t blush but she does smile wider before her gaze wanders over to the computer on the desk. Her smile dies away, replaced by a frown and he knows he should go.

He really doesn’t want to. But, if he’s serious about helping her out and supporting her, if he’s serious about having a relationship with her fucking hell whathashejustagreedtoandwhyisn’thefreakedout? If he’s serious he needs to show. He’s a grown up. He’s a goddamn adult that can eat chocolate cake for breakfast if he wants to.

“I’m going to let you get back to writing. Because, if we’re cool and all,” he gestrues to the two of them comically. “I distinctly remember you asking to be locked in my bedroom and after the last few days I think that would do us both a world of good.” Dell leans in for another kiss but he jumps up and away instead, out of her reach.

They feel too tentative for anything more than flirting. Alright, heavy innuendo. Even though she’s got this look in her eyes that he has to push just a little more, he won’t. He’s going to be an awesome boyfriend.

He shoves down the feeling that they’re going way too fast by backing out the door with a grin. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll pick you up.” She watches him all the way out the apartment, chuckling like crazy. When he’s got the front door closed he leans against it and sighs.

Holy fucking hell. What in the world is he doing?

Mike isn’t completely sure. But he’s sure enough. For now.

Notes

Sorry about the delay everyone. I was really sure the end of the world was coming. Since it hasn't we can resume our daily updates!