The Games We Play

“Babe, I can explain.”

There was a heavy exhale on the other line. “Oh, I think I got the message.”

James sat down on his hotel bed, feeling heavy with fatigue. His face hurt from the punches he took, and his knuckles were still leaking blood slowly from the cuts sustained from Phaneuf’s helmet.

“I wish I would’ve never told you.”

James rolled his eyes. “Your face said it all, I hate to tell you.”

“Whatever.”

With his free hand, James slid his fingers over his face and through his long hair. After all the fanfare of the game, the Pens had lost in overtime. The level of frustration James felt left him wishing he had something concrete within his grasp. Something that made him feel less scattered, less conflicted, less stressed. In other words…he wanted Ali. Instead, he had another empty hotel bed and an early flight.

“Are you mad?” he asked.

She sighed. “No…not mad. I just…”

“Are we still getting married?” When James heard Ali’s bright laughter, albeit more subdued than usual, he felt the tension in his shoulders and neck ease a bit.

“Yesss…”

“Good. You had me worried.”

Another laugh; louder this time.

They talked for a while longer, both of their moods becoming lighter. James asked Ali how her shift at work went, how her workout at the gym was, what she had in store the next day...anything so he could focus on her voice and the way it made him feel better.

“So a haircut tomorrow, eh? You going short?”

“Oh my god, nooo! It’s barely over three weeks ‘til the wedding!” Ali replied. “You know I’d never do that.”

The sound of the hotel door opening broke James’ attention as Niskanen came walking in with Paulie. His head against the headboard, James followed the pair with his eyes, giving them both an acknowledging nod.

“Uh oh, visitors?” Ali asked.

“Yeah, I should probably go…” James waited for Nisky and Paulie to start talking to one another again before he proceeded. “…love you, babe. Sorry again…if I went overboard, but that asshole deserved it.”

“I know, James. Just get some sleep and ice that handsome face of yours.”

He smiled. “Will do, Nurse. Night.”

“Night.”

James hung up, but didn’t move from his spot on the bed. Paulie turned around and started laughing at him.

“What!?” he asked Paul.

“Nice shiner, Nealer.”

James touched his face. It felt a little puffy, but it wasn’t one of the hardest jabs he’d taken in his history on the ice. Shoving himself off the bed, he went over to one of the nearby wall mirrors and took another look. Indeed, a little bit of blueish tint was welling beneath his right eye.

“Fuck.”

“Better lay off fights until the wedding, dude” Niskanen said, removing his suit jacket. “I don’t think Ali would want you to have a black eye in all of your wedding photos.”

He hadn’t considered that. The one he was currently wearing would heal in a week or so, but if he kept this up, Nisky would be right. Instead, he took Ali’s advice and continued to ice it. Regardless of the outcome, or how it looked on tv, or what Ali thought of him…he did the right thing. He settled it on the ice, and he wouldn’t take it back. In the coming games, if Phaneuf or Kessel came at him, he would be ready.

* * *

Ali flipped lazily through a People magazine while she waited in the lounge area of the salon. Page after page of celebrities, advertisements, and random articles wasn’t even enough to get her mind off of all the wedding stuff she needed to do in the coming weeks. The final weeks, as she had come to call them.

In a few days, Ali would be meeting up with all her girls to celebrate her bachelorette party. They were staying in Pittsburgh, but they’d gotten a master suite at one of the ritziest hotels downtown, thanks to Brittany and her fine hotel sleuthing work. They were essentially just having a girl’s weekend, and likely Ali would have to be part of the usual bachelorette antics.

As she paged through the magazine, Ali wondered about her hairstyle for the wedding day. There were so many tiny details she felt she was missing, as much of her attention up to this point was focused on the bigger aspects of the wedding. Spotting a hairstyle on Jennifer Anniston within the pages made her think of this, even as her hair stylist called her name.

Ali set her magazine down with a smile. “Hey Rachel! How are you?”

“Long time, no see, girl!”

They hugged, and the petite blonde immediately ran her delicate fingers through Ali’s long hair.

“Oh my God, look how long this is! It’s gorgeous! You’re not here to get it chopped, are you?”

Ali laughed. “No, no, just a trim, maybe a refresh on my long layers…nothing fancy.”

“I think that’s easy enough!” Rachel nodded firmly and lifted her hand towards the hallway that led back to the rest of the salon. “Let’s get you started.”

As Ali retrieved her purse and headed towards the hallway, Rachel gasped in surprise and grabbed her arm. “What….is…..THIS?” She held up the hand that contained Ali’s four carat stone, her mouth hanging open. “Wait. Is this…?”

“It is.” Ali nodded, feeling that proud, blissful swirling of emotion in her tummy. “A lot’s happened since the last time I was in here.”

“Aahhhhparently!” Rachel exclaimed. “I want all the deets. Stat.”

So while Rachel washed and styled Ali’s hair, she filled her in on the past six months of her life, ending with her and James’ amazing trip to Colorado and the surprise engagement.

Rachel had been Ali’s hair stylist for several years now and was just a few years older than Ali. Since that first haircut, Ali had gone through her a breakup with her past boyfriend, and then her stroke of luck meeting James. Rachel was a typical Pittsburgh’er: she bled black and gold for all three of the city’s teams, and the Penguins most of all. When she’d found out that Ali was dating one of the players, she almost died. Now…with news of an engagement…it was almost too much for her to handle.

“I can’t believe this.” Rachel had to put her scissors down. She looked over her thin rimmed glasses, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re marrying him in less than a month!?”

“I can’t believe it either” Ali replied, rolling the ring around her finger beneath the black cape draped over her entire body.

“Do you have the dress?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my God! What are your colors?”

“Dark purple.”

Rachel flipped a piece of her light blonde hair out of her face, making a noise with her tongue. “You lucky, lucky girl. And you look so…..so composed.”

Ali had to laugh. “Oh, Rachel, Rachel, Rachel…” She tried not to move her head as she laughed, since she could hear the scissors snipping again behind her. “…if you only knew how nervous I really am.”

“WHYYY?” She looked into the mirror they were both facing and pointed her tiny black comb at her. “If I was marrying a Penguin, I would be so f’ing excited—“

“—I’m excited, silly!” Ali said. “It’s just a lot, you know? It’s a LOT.”

“Trust me, I know. I just can’t believe how calm you are.”

Calm on the outside…dying on the inside, maybe, Ali thought. As Rachel continued to trim her layers, she debated this fact a moment longer. James’ entire team was coming to the wedding, not to mention some of his old teammates, friends, training buddies, and some of his brothers’ teammates who knew James from back in Whitby. It was beyond overwhelming. Ali had barely met and befriended members of James’ inner circle, let alone half of the National Hockey League who were attending the wedding and/or reception.

The thought alone made Ali’s heart beat in double time. Her dad would be overwhelmed the most, even moreso than her, having that many of his favorites in one room.

I wonder what they’ll all think…

Ali bit her lip and stared at the floor in front of her. Last year, she watched the Pens annoynymously, from her old condo across town, with the passive thought that many of them were attractive. Now…she was marrying one of them. The one she waved to, because she thought she had nothing to lose by doing so.

Nothing to lose, and everything to gain…and here I am.

“There you go!” Rachel spun Ali around to face the mirror.

With her fingers, Ali let her freshly styled, freshly blow dried hair play through her fingers. A flash of her in her wedding gown, her hair done perfectly, appeared in her mind and she smiled.

“I love it.”

* * *

That evening, when James got home after returning from Toronto, the couple lounged outside on the back deck while steaks sizzled on the grill. It was too nice of a night not to be outside; the late spring temperatures were comfortably in the mid to upper 70s, complete with a cool breeze.

“Now this is more like it” James said, tipping back a Corona. Through his dark sunglasses, he looked over at Ali, who was dressed down in tiny workout shorts, a plain white v-neck t-shirt which was just thin enough to show a hint of her pink bra beneath, with her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She turned her head towards him and they clinked their bottles.

“Just make sure you don’t get too comfy” she replied, taking a sip. “I’m not eating burnt steak.”

“Haa haaa.” James made a face at her, and she giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m on it, babe. Let success handle itself.”

“Uh huh. Suuuuure.”

“This might be the last time I get to relax, you know.” James pushed his sunglasses down his nose to look at Ali. “You, on the otherhand, have all weekend.”

“A bachelorette party isn’t quite like a bachelor party, you know.” Ali pushed her aviators down similar to James, looking at him over their silver rims. “And I’ll be the one having to do all the work.”

“Like drink?”

“And dance.”

“Oh boooyyy…” The sarcasm in his voice matched the smirk on his face. “You lead a rough life.”

“Shut it” Ali said, resting her head against the back of the chair. “I’m trying to relax here.”

From his chair next to her, James watched the corner of her mouth lift into a smile. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek before standing. “You get away with everything because of that smile.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ali wiggled an eyebrow at him, to which James merely shook his head. She let her gaze linger on him as he lifted the hood of the grill, a puff of smoke and the aroma of their dinner wafting into the air. Her eyes traveled down the perfect V of his back, all the way down to his stereotypical hockey butt. She smiled and took another drink, reveling in the moment.

James glanced over his shoulder, still wearing his smart aleck smirk. “I might not be able to see your eyes through your sunglasses, but I know you’re staring.”

“So sue me! My fiance’s hot and he can kind of cook now.”

“Kind of!?”

Ali laughed, but when James set his tongs down and came over to put her in a headlock, her laughter turned to a fit of giggles.

“You just wait, Future Mrs. Neal,” he said as Ali squirmed in his arms, “Not only will I be the best dad ever, I’ll eventually turn into the best chef ever.” He let her go and to his surprise, Ali kissed him…except it wasn’t a casual kiss; it had a startling amount of oomph to it.

“Best dad ever, huh?” She smiled, her fingers going to his growing playoff beard. “And now a chef?”

He nodded. “I passed the first test, remember?”

“You passed the chef test too, babe.” Ali kissed him once more. “At Thanksgiving?”

James chuckled. “Youtube video dinners are what you consider a success?”

“For James Neal? Yuuup.”

Deciding to let her little chirp slide, James gave her another quick peck and then went back to tending to their dinner. In her chair, Ali let James’ words run over and over through her mind. Best dad ever. Best chef ever. Her eyes dropped to the label on her bottle.

He wants to do it all. He wants to be it all….for me.

When Ali lifted her eyes, she watched James fuss over the food on the grill, his 406 t-shirt and favorite mesh shorts the perfect attire for the relaxing evening they were having. His hair, which was the longest it ever was during the history of their relationship, stuck out in curls and waves from beneath the bill of his hat, which he wore backwards. It was her favorite look on him. The level of comfort at that moment made Ali feel good. The nerves that came and went whenever she had to deal with wedding details were gone, forgotten…only a tattoed boy in his lounge gear and backwards hat were on her mind.

“Hey babe?”

James turned around, tongs in hand. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “I love you.”

“And the sky is blue.”

“And you’re an ass.”

“Hey!” James folded his arms over his chest, the curve of his biceps becoming more pronounced. “I’m just playing, ya know.”

“I know…” Ali smirked. “But you’re right. This might be one of the last times we get to relax. And you’re just so damn cute right now.” She saw his mile-wide smile grow even more. “Sorry. I’m having a moment over here, I guess.”

“You’re allowed” James responded. “But no apologies here. Got it?”

“Yes, Sargeant.”

“Steak Sargant. Get it right.”

Ali lifted the bottle to her lips and let the cold beer refresh her as their eyes remained locked on one another’s.

“Cook my steak, bitch” she said, and James barked out a loud laugh.

“God I love you.”

Ali motioned playfully for him to turn back to their dinner. When he did, she couldn’t help but smile. God I love him.

After another five minutes, the food was done. Ali set out two plates and silverware on the small table on the deck, and grabbed another set of Coronas for her and James. The sun was going down now, and it cast an orange-yellow color across their expansive back yard and across the wooden deck. James scooted his chair closer to Ali, even though he didn’t need to, so that their legs touched while they ate. It felt more like a date than just another Wednesday night dinner.

“Yep.” Ali was nodding as she chewed her first bite. “You weren’t lying. This is damn good.”

“Told ya.” James took a bite, feeling pretty good about the outcome. He’d teach this girl yet that he was serious and that he was in this for the long haul.

“So you’re getting together with the guys on Saturday, then?” She took another bite of the steak, pairing it with a scoop of baked potato. “And if so, are you going to grill for them like you just did for me?”

James wrapped a hand around her neck, pulling her close. He placed a kiss to her forehead. "Yes, and hell no. They don’t deserve it half as much as you.”

“I’d love to be a fly on that wall” Ali said with a giggle. “Literally. A fly. On the wall.”

“Why?” James asked, mouth full. “So you can watch me fail miserably at trying to get a bunch of nervous, worn out, goofy bastards to work on wedding and reception details?”

“Yes!” She leaned into him playfully. “Besides, I would love to see what you’ve cooked up.”

James felt a jolt of excitement. Even between all the pressure of the playoffs, he’d spent a decent amount of time formulating a plan for him and his groomsmen to do something special during the reception. Even some of the guys from the team were joining in, hopefully to make for a very memorable, silly moment for Ali. He couldn’t reveal the details of the plan, but he did tell her he had to meet with them so they could run through it.

“Shit, that reminds me…” Ali wiped her mouth with her napkin before she continued. “The Hall is ready if you want to go check it out on Friday…Paul got back to me; said it would be open if we wanted to get a sense of the size and space for table placement and decorations.”

“Yeah? Okay, let’s do it.”

Ali’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You don’t have to…I don’t know…do some weird ritual or whatever on a day before a home game—“

“—Babe.” James set his fork down and lifted his glasses off his face. His hand came to rest reassuringly on her thigh as he looked at her. “Believe it it not, and I hope you do, but you’re keeping me sane through all of this.”

His eyes took on the look of a sad puppy, but mostly because of the darkened patch of skin beneath his right eye where he’d taken a punch. It was a darker shade of blue, almost back, and was a stark contrast to the ocean blue of his eyes.

“Plus, I kind of want to see how big this place is.” He squeezed her leg and smiled. “There are a lot of Neals.”

“I know.”

“All yours in just a few weeks.”

“I know.” It made Ali feel all giddy inside; the Neals were about to become part of her family. Holidays, both Canadian and otherwise, would be celebrated with them. Pete and Debrah would be her in-laws.

In-laws for Christ sake.

She cut another piece of the tasty steak and chewed, watching James knock the butt end of his steak sauce bottle with such force she thought he’d break it. He had so many quirks, most that others never got to see…like how he could never get anyting to come out of a glass bottle no matter how hard he tried, or how he switched hands to eat all the time, never sticking with one too long. Ali always wondered if that somehow had to do with learning to shoot a puck using both hands, but she never understood much about it and felt silly asking. Instead, she watched and felt her love for him grow day by day.

James lifted his eyes to the side, noticing Ali watching him. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”

He hit the bottle again. “I’m doing it too hard.”

“I’d be the last person to tell you that you’re doing anything too hard.”

James saw the twinkle in her eye as she said this, knowing exactly the hidden meaning behind those words.

“Here. I suddenly can’t concentrate.” He handed the bottle over to her. With three taps, Ali had the sauce draining from the bottle.

God, I love her.

* * *

The next night was Game 4, and the Pens fell 3-1.

James knew what was happening, he just didn’t want to witness it for the third year in a row: he and his team were getting emotional. Tension was building, injuries were racking up by the game, and James was getting angrier. Whether it was with himself, the team, or the outcome of the series so far, he couldn’t tell.

Ali went to the game and sat in the suite, watching in restrained silence as James struggled to score, or do much of anything to stop the Leafs. It was an odd situation to be in, and she could only imagine how the guys felt. With each game, she was witnessing the confidence of the underdog Leafs build, while the Penguins became more and more frustrated. A loss at home was a downer any game, but during the playoffs – the crowd reacted much differently. Ali was no different, except her emotions weren’t the same as the crowd’s; when the final horn blew, she excused herself from Maureen and the others to the restroom, where she allowed a few tears ran down her face.

In the car, James and Ali were mostly silent. They’d hugged one another when they met up, but Ali knew she had to give James her space. The series was now 3 to 1, in favor of Toronto, and it was written all over James’ face. Bright headlights of cars passing on the other side of the road illuminated the stress and strain of the night in his unyielding gaze as he drove them home.

Their time in bed wasn’t much different. James craved Ali’s touch, but he wasn’t in the mood for sex. He wanted to lay with her, touch her, feel her, smell her…anything to let him know he had something on the other side of the game. He knew comebacks were possible, but it would come at a price…he just didn’t know what that price would be. Tempers? Extra practices? Exhaustion? He’d take all three if that’s what it meant to win.

“Babe, I’m scared.”

Ali wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him from her position next to him. “I know. You guys aren’t done yet.”

“I don’t want to go through this another year.”

Ali lifted her head. “I know, James. Take it one game at a time. Just focus on that next game, and we’ll go from there.”

She caressed his face, and James felt instantly better. Her voice was soothing; a baby blanket to his worries and fears of losing the race for the Cup. Her touch was medicine for every ache in his body he sustained playing hard on the ice, throwing his body at anyone he could to give his line the advantage. His wrists hurt, his head hurt, and his heart was slow to follow, but he felt it…deep inside, he was scared.

“Here” Ali said, her voice almost a whisper. She sat back so that she was on her back and James cuddled up to her. “We’ll try life again tomorrow. For now, just rest.”

James listened to her slow and steady heartbeat, feeling her soft skin against his face. His eyes closed as Ali ran her fingers through his hair, brushing past his ear, lingering on his neck. She was the only thing keeping him together.

He fell asleep to the feel of Ali’s touch. That night, he dreamt he was skating alone on his pond back in Whitby as a kid again.

* * *

Notes

I'm back! :) Thanks to all for being so patient and waiting for my busy butt to get back into the story. I'll be submitting chapters all week until I have to leave this weekend again.

<3 you guys!