The Games We Play

Ali kicked her own ass at the gym and had fun doing it. She hit the treadmill twice as hard, did enough squats to last a lifetime, and then went to a Pilates class afterwards. She talked with some of the girls she knew through the class; catching up with them a little since Ali hadn’t been to Pilates in a while. It was good to get back and chat with them.

Emerging from the large room with the rest of the class, Ali was visibly sweatier than any of the other members. The tight, black Under Armour capris she wore didn’t reveal much, but her light pink workout top did. Sweat stained the neck of the top and dotted between her breasts, along with her face that was dripping wet and flushed pink.

Ali waved by to the girls and headed for the locker room, taking a much needed seat on the bench by her locker. All around her various other women roamed; some finished with their workout, some just getting ready to begin. The scent of hair products and the occasional wave of heat from hair driers being used filled the space about her, but Ali was in a post-workout daze. She dug out her gym bag from the locker, rummaging for her phone in one of the outside pockets. What she was hoping to see was there, making her smile right out loud for everyone to witness:

Two months to the day until you’re my bride, babe! Hope the gym gave you as good a workout as I do

It almost did, Ali thought to herself. She tapped back a flirty response and sent it off.

It was James’ last away game of the regular season, which would be played in New Jersey that night against the Devils. Ali looked forward to meeting up with Becky later to watch it. Becky would be coming over to the house and Ali would provide the booze. It was a recipe for success in every aspect.

Finishing up at the gym, Ali headed out into the warm, late-April sun. She slipped her aviators over her nose, still having to squint in the hard light. The sun was definitely stronger, the days longer, and the temperatures much warmer day by day. Tiny green buds were just starting to pop on the branches of trees, the last of any snow-covered grass turning to soggy, squishy turf. The air smelled of mud and water, mixed with the usual layer of pollutants that Pittsburgh carried with it. All in all, it smelled the freshest it’s smelled in months, and Ali inhaled deeply as she moseyed through the parking lot.

Before Ali reached her SUV, she almost didn’t feel vibrating inside her bag, signaling an incoming call. She fumbled a little to dig the phone out, but was able to answer before it went to voicemail.

“Becca, hey!”

“Ohmigod, Ali, guess what?”

She could already tell by the sound of Becca’s voice that the girl was about to spill over with excitement. “What? Tell, tell!”

“I goottttt myyy dddrrreeessssss!” Rebecca’s laughter rang out cheerfully, causing Ali to become instantly excited.

“You did!? Do you like it!?!?”

“Um. YES. Hello! It’s AMAZING! The color is perfection!”

Ali laughed. “That’s great, I’m glad you like it and it’s not one of those wretched things most other people force their bridesmaids to wear.”

Rebecca blew a raspberry. “Please. You do nothing wrong. Except date my brother, but I can forgive you for that.”

“Well good, otherwise the dress wouldn’t mean much, huh?” Ali teased. She walked up to her car, but decided to sit on the ledge of the hatchback. A few more minutes in the sun would only do her more good. “I’m afraid to ask, though……does it fit?”

“Yes! My mom was worried my boobs might be hanging out because of the style neckline I chose, but they aren’t.”

She face palmed and shook her head. Parents.

“So what are you doing right now?” Becca asked.

“Just left the gym, actually. You?”

Rebecca set her up. Ali knew it the minute she heard her start to giggle excitedly. “Oh nothing, just standing here in my DRESS.”

“You are too much, Becca.” Ali tried to envision the scene in Whitby: one tall blonde with big eyes and her brother’s nose, standing in a knee-length, A-line dress in a deep shade of grape. She wondered if Becca was twirling like a fool like she’d done in hers.

“I look so pretty” she said, her voice having a far-off, dreamy sound. “I can’t WAIT to see you in yours!! Aren’t you ever going to send me a pic?”

“Nope! It’s a secret until the big day” Ali replied. “But don’t worry; it’ll be worth the wait. I think.”

“Oh it will, fershure.”

Ali smiled to herself and kicked at a small stone beneath her sneaker. At least she’s confident. I’ll just keep doing squats until my ass turns to stone to ensure it..

“Can I send you a pic of what I look like in mine, then?”

“Well duh!” Ali said with a laugh. “I’m surprised I’ve had to wait this long!”

Rebecca squealed. “Okay, I need to hang up then. Text me when you get it!”

Ali went around to the driver’s side of her car and tossed her bag into the passenger seat. She sat, one leg still out the open door to let the cool breeze in, waiting for the picture to show up. When it did, Ali literally gasped out loud.

“Oh WOW, that turned out way better than I was hoping.” Her mouth remained opened in surprise as she wrote back to Rebecca as closely of a reaction to the one she just had.

When Ali pinched to zoom into the dress on Rebecca’s leggy figure – it made it all seem to come alive for her. That was it: her bridesmaid dress, the one she picked out, in the color she wanted….and it fit! It fit, and Becca liked it, and she looked amazing in it.

And the wedding’s only two months away, to the day.

Ali chewed her lip and studied the picture, her thoughts drifting off to how each of the girls might look. She wondered how she would look as well. What would everyone’s reaction be? What will James do when he sees me for the first time in my dress?

It was stuff from a juvenile fairytail Ali didn’t bother daydreaming about past the age of 10, but she was doing it now. For too long, Ali was just trying to keep it real, not turn into a bridezilla, and just keep calm and plan on and make sure everyone was good and everything was set. But seeing Rebecca in her dress…..it just kicked Ali into full princess mode. In two months, to the day, she was marrying James Neal.

Who the fuck would have thought? It was something Ali pondered all too often. I was just happy he talked to me. I was flabbergasted when he forced the hotel to give him my name under some ridiculous story he made up, just to talk To ME.

“Who the fuck would have thought” Ali repeated aloud, a smile permanently fixed on her face.

* * *

James sat at a table with the regulars who went out to dinner before a road game, as was their typical pre-game. Their drinks had come, but they still had some time before their food came out. As they waited, all discussion was on James’ bachelor party.

“I say the MGM” Joe Vitale said, a sparkle in his eye.

Dupuis made a face. “The MGM is for amateurs! We need something more Nealer, if you know what I mean.”

James laughed. “No, I actually have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“What about the pyramid? What’s, uh….what’s that one?” Geno asked as he leaned forward. He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember the name.

“The Luxor” Vitale replied.

Chewing on an ice cube, Sid looked over. “How the hell do you know all this stuff?”

“I grew up in the States, dude. Vegas is a right of passage.”

Their waitress came with a pitcher of water, refilling each of their glasses. Talk hesitated momentarily until they were alone again and free to chirp at will.

“So we stay there?” Geno nudged Sid in the side, since he was sitting right next to him. “You can roommate with me for once.”

“Who’s staying with me, then?” James asked, his eyebrows rising. “You ditching me already, G?”

“Stripper stay with you, Lazy.”

A round of laughter rose from the table, and James played it all very cool.

“Fine, but only if she’s blonde.”

Fleury leaned over. “A little ying for your yang, buddy?”

James laughed. “Yeah, guess you could say that.”

To be honest, he had no clue what would transpire in Vegas. He’d only ever heard about wild stories from there; he’d seen The Hangover, he knew the drill. But really, when he tried to picture hitting the town with a mix of Canadians, Russians, Swedes, and maybe one or two Americans, all he could picture was a giant clusterfuck of hilarity.

“Wherever we stay, it needs a pool” he said, directing his statement towards Vitale, since he seemed to be playing tour guide. “We’re talking drinks, women, pool, sun….”

“Yeah, a pool is necessary” Sid replied. “Because I plan on sitting right beside it the whole time, hung over as fuck.”

“Ohhhh!! Listen to the Kid!” Dupuis chirped. “Talking big already!”

“There might be a waitress or two that might help ya out, Crosby” James added, a smirk crawling across his face. “I bet you could even upgrade to a showgirl.”

Sid chewed on another ice cube. “I’ll leave those to you.”

“Yeah, Nealer – how many do you think you’ll bring back?” Glass taunted.

James immediately raised his hands in a defensive pose. “Nooooo, no – I’m innocent here, I will not be touching any pussy the entire time I’m there, you got that?”

Half a dozen sets of eyes stared at him.

“You’re joking, right?” Beau asked.

“No?”

Beau snorted. “Nealer. It’s your bachelor party. You only get ONE.”

“Well…..” Dupuis raised an eyebrow and laughed as the others caught on. “It IS Neal we’re talking about here.”

James took it as best he could. He knew, with the amount of stress they were under as of late, that everyone was looking for a distraction. James’ bachelor party was their topic of choice, especially since it loomed so close on the calendar.

“We need a place to stay before we talk about anything else” James said, elbows going back to the table. “Mike said that if we choose, he’ll book.”

“Where do YOU want to stay, Nealer?” The question came from Sutter, just a few chairs down from the main focus of the discussion.

James had no idea, so he casually took a drink of water to delay answering. They all seemed like great choices, and how long would they be in a room anyway? Visions of the Strip flashed in his mind from his limited knowledge of the place. One place did come to mind, however.

“There’s that new place….” he said. “Right on the center of the Strip—“

“The Aria?” Vitale asked. “Fuck man, that place is swank.”

James slowly moved his eyes around the table, gauging how everyone thought about going full out on this thing. Were they really all talk, or were they in this for its full potential?

“Whaddya say, boys…” He looked at Geno, then at Sid. “Go big or go home?”

Only Geno gave him the signal he was looking for. “Ha haaaa, Nealsy, yeeaah.”

Sid smiled. “I’m in.”

“Guys?” James looked down the table. “Champagne suite at the Aria?”

Sutter raised his glass. Then Vitale, Duper, and Sid raised theirs. Geno looked at Beau across the table from him, and they both raised theirs.

James lifted his glass as well. “The Aria it is.”

* * *

Sweatpants, t-shirts, sloppy hair. Both Ali and James looked almost exactly alike, save for their different physical features.

It was pouring rain outside, rain running out of the gutters loudly enough that the pair could hear it in the living room, almost over the sound of the television. It functioned as background noise for them as they sat together on the couch working on wedding invitations. James did the writing; Ali sealed the envelopes and wrote down addresses. There was a steadily growing pile on the far couch cushion next to them as they worked happily with one another.

“My hand hurts.”

Ali licked the fold of an envelope and set it on the pile. “You’re a wimp.”

“Hey!” James shot her a look of surprise. “I’m delicate.”

She smiled. “Please.”

“I am!” James grabbed a blank invitation. “My right hand is my life, you know.”

“I know. Isn’t that the hand you jerk off with?”

James looked at Ali as if she just told him his mother died. “Excuse me? I do no such thing.” He handed her the invitation, watching as she penned down an address and licked the flap.

“I’ve seen you, James.”

“Yeah, but….that was, ya know…” he stuttered, knowing he wasn’t going to win. “Whatever, I’ve seen you too.”

Ali remembered, because it was burned in her memory as one of the hottest things her and James did. Early on in their relationship, they were pushing limits with one another sexually. James wanted to watch her play with herself, more than the typical reach-down-and-help-yourself-while-I-fuck-you type of touching. Ali gladly obliged, but wanted to see him, too. Strangely enough, she found it incredibly erotic. She remembered how her mouth salivated as she watched him. There was so much power in his hands as he stroked himself while she teased other parts of his body at the same time.

She shuddered just thinking about it. “Stop it, you’re turning me on.”

“Oh yeah?” James pointed at his lap. “You ain’t got nothin’ on me, babe.”

“Oh my God! Does it ever rest?” Ali said with a laugh. She waved her hand for him to hand her another invitation. “We have to keep going! Only a hundred more to go.”

James slid one of his large hands around the back of her neck, squeezing gently. “You sure you don’t wanna—“

She slapped his thigh. “Focus!”

“Alright, alriiiight.” James reluctantly picked up another invitation. “But if my hand breaks from all this, it’s your fault.”

They settled back into the groove they’d been in: sign, address, seal, stack. Over and over they went, laughing and talking in between about whatever came to mind as their pile of blank invitations dwindled. They went through all of Ali’s family and friends, then James’ family (which had twice as many people needing invites), then his hometown friends, players from his junior leagues all the way up to everyone he considered close in the NHL (and in many cases, were in both).

“Tavares?” Ali asked him. “Islanders, right?”

“Yeah. Huge loser.”

She licked the envelope and set it on the stack. “Next?”

“Stammer.”

Ali took the card, wrote out the address, licked the envelope, then set it on the stack. “Think he’ll bring anyone?”

James shrugged, writing out the next invitation. “Maybe? I think he’s got a girl. Who can keep up.” He handed it over.

“Well I hope some of these guys bring girls so it’s not a sausage fest at our own wedding.” She glanced over to see James smirking at her.

“What about all your girls? You invited like 100 people you went to college with.”

“So?” Ali licked the envelope, smiling.

“Who do you think Brittany will bring?”

“Oh god….”

“…think she’ll hook up with Beau?”

They looked at one another, considering the major possibility of that happening. Slowly, Ali smiled and went back to penning Matt Cooke’s address on the next envelope. James saw that look, which answered his question for the both of them.

Sign. Address. Seal. Stack.

“Who’s this?” Ali studied the invite. “Richards?”

“Ali!”

Her eyes went wide. “What? Oh no…did I miss something?”

“Brad Richards.” James stared at her, mouth slightly open. “My boy from Dallas?”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, THAT Brad…”

“Yeeeah, don’t let him hear you say that.” He nudged her with his elbow and gave her a smile. “You won’t have issues remembering them once you meet them.”

Sign. Address. Seal. Stack.

“Hey, you know what? Did we do one for your aunt?” Ali went searching the address book she made to accumulate everyone’s addresses all in one spot. “I don’t seem to have her address even in here.”

James leaned over exaggeratedly to look at her notebook, but ended up resting his chin on her chest. “I can’t seem to see it either…”

“You are such a dork.”

“You love dorks, though.” He kissed her nose. “I have it on my phone, hang on.”

While James retrieved the address, Ali flipped through the rest of the scribbled addresses that were left. They had about 15 people to go, then they would finally be done. Ali would mail the 400 invitations the next morning, and then all they had to do was coast into June. That was, unless the playoffs got out of hand, but she promised to only cross that bridge if or when she got to it.

“Here.” James handed her his phone and she jotted down the address. He watched her as she bit the corner of her lip while she wrote. He couldn’t help it; his hand went back to her neck.

She smiled and gave him back the phone. “What’s up? What’s that look for?” James’ eyes were half-lidded and heavy as he smiled at her.

“You’ve just been working so hard with everything” he replied, rubbing her neck slowly. “I think you deserve a back rub.”

“Really?” She loved James’ massages. Any time he treated her to one, she was in a blissful state long after he finished. His hands were strong and skilled at working muscles, and hers were no exception. Hockey came with many, manyperks, and a man who knew what he was doing when it came to muscles was her favorite.

“Lay down” James instructed. He watched as Ali moved the piles of envelopes to the floor and stretched out on her stomach. Placing his knees on either side of her, then lifted the tiny t-shirt she had on up above her shoulder blades, exposing the curve of her back. The bright yellow band of her bra was the only thing littering her perfectly smooth skin, so he unsnapped it.

“Sorry, it’s gotta go.”

Ali settled deeper into the cushions, getting comfortable. “Whatever you need to do. You’re the professional.”

James chuckled. “Shhhh……relax, Als.” He skimmed her hair away from her back, then let his hands do the rest. He prided himself on how good he could give a girl a rub-down…in more ways than one, but particularly this way. He’d gotten enough positive feedback in the past to know it was an acquired skill, but Ali was particularly complimentary.

“Good god, James.”

“You like that?”

“Just shut up and rub.”

He laughed and kept going, happy with the outcome already. Ali was slowly dying from the outside in. His hands were too good; they knew too much about her body, his thumbs pressing into exactly all the right spots. She sighed, feeling James press a little harder into a tense spot near the base of her neck. Around and around his hands slid, a perfect blend of rubbing and squeezing, pressing and folding.

Since Ali’s bra had been unclipped, it slid up a little and exposed a hint of skin. James’ fingers always took just a little extra time when he brushed past the bare underside of her breasts. Ali felt herself getting turned on, but she didn’t want James to know. She wanted him to keep going until she either fell asleep or his hands fell off.

“You’re not aloud to stop, by the way” she mumbled, feeling his fingers press hard into the muscles around her spine. “Ughhh, see? So good….”

James did the same move again, smiling behind her. He paid attention to every tiny move or hitch in her breathing, wanting it to be as enjoyable as possible. He pressed the large pads of his thumbs all the way up the length of her spine to her neck, then squeezed. It got another moan of gratification. “I’ll go as long as you want me to, babe.”

Ali pressed her face into the couch cushion to hide her smile. She could feel James’ weight near the bottom of her legs, the pure energy in his hands and his arms as he worked every tendon, every muscle responding by melting at his touch.

“Damn. You have a pretty big knot right here.” He pressed the flat of his wrist hard into the space just beneath her left shoulder blade. “Feel that?”

Ali winced a little. “Oww…go easy, wouldya?”

James leaned towards her face. “Trust me, wouldya?” He kissed her cheek before returning to his kneeling stance, his wrist working the pad of skin beneath it.

Powerless to do much of anything, Ali submitted to the intense kneading James was giving this particular spot on her back. It was amazing how attentive he was…the same as when he worked other parts of her body.

Easy, girl. Just let him treat you.

“Feel any better?”

“Mmm hmm.”

James smiled. Slowly, he moved from where he felt Ali’s knot and worked his hands back down, sliding them first around her waist, up her ribcage to the base of her breasts, back down her back and across the span of her hips, admiring every inch of skin his hands touched. Small moans and hushed little groans came at will, letting James know he was still doing well. He strived to keep his massage as innocent as he could, but it was a challenge to keep from slipping a finger or two beneath her tightly fitted sweats and whatever panties she had on.

“You know what?” He bent forward again, hands sliding up to her shoulders where he clasped firmly. “You have a nice body.”

Ali laughed. Leave it to James to say something like that in the middle of something like this. “Well thanks, James.”

“I mean it.” Sitting back, he let go and simply admired the taut figure in front of him. Inches and inches of smooth, flawless skin; curves that begged his tongue to lick from start to finish. “I could work this canvas all night.”

Canvas. Ali would’ve swooned if she wasn’t already lying flat. She sat up a little and looked back at James, who allowed her to swivel around finally so that she was laying beneath him. “You know…when these go out in the mail tomorrow…there’s kinda no turning back.”

James nodded, following Ali’s finger as she trailed is down the center of his gray v-neck shirt, hooking it at the collar. “I don’t wanna turn back.” He searched her gaze, but all he saw were giant doe eyes full of affection. “Do you?”

She shook her head, pulling James forward with just her finger on his shirt. “I just want to hear you say it.”

“Ooo. Greedy.” He nuzzled his nose against hers. “You first.”

Ali smiled, happy he was indulging her. “Do you know what June 29th is?”

”I do.” James licked his bottom lip and smiled. “How’d it sound?”

“Great. I think you’re getting better at it.”

James actually loved the way it sounded when he’d said it. In less than two months, he’d say it and probably feel his heart explode, but it’d be worth it.

“Now you” Ali said excitedly. She slid her hands around his ribs back to his shoulders where she hugged him. “Go.”

“Do you know who you’re marrying on June 29th?” he asked, smiling bashfully.

”I do.” Ali grinned wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head and their lips met. “I think you got the hang of it.”

* * *

Notes